#and wasn’t able to bounce around extra fast and high as a teen

[malachitezmeyka]

Yes, Reflection from Mulan is a very Aiza-coded song, I’m not going to deny that because that’d be stupid, it fits her down to a T

HOWEVER!! I have also been saying that she is very Shurochka Azarova (main character of The Hussar Ballad) coded, which is a rather conflicting statement to the previous one because Mulan and Shura are rather different characters, united only by very similar storylines.

And that’s when I got it: Aiza is Mulan-coded, but EMRAN is Shurochka-coded. And my proof is Shura’s rendition of Long Long Ago, which is exactly how I imagine a teenage Emran, who has finally grown into himself and is a bit high on being free from his previous life, would act

[Quick translation done by yours truly, with no rhyme because do I look like I have the spoons for that??:

They call me a boy without a moustache

For that I truly, that I truly do not care

For at least they don’t label me a coward

Long long ago, long long ago, long long ago

Another twirls his moustache angrily

Stares down at every bottle’s, every bottle’s end

But he himself is just a parody of a hussar

Long long ago, long long ago, long long ago

Another swears of his fiery passion

But if the wine, but if the wine has all been drunk

Then all his passion is at the bottom of the bottle

Long long ago, long long ago, long long ago

For lovers the sea is only knee-deep

And I agree, and I agree with them on that

But all are guarded by silent threat of infidelity

Long long ago, long long ago, long long ago]

DO NOT EVEN TRY TO TELL ME I’M WRONG BECAUSE I KNOW FULL WELL THAT I’M RIGHT!!!

[djcarnationsblog]

Circus!Ibvs- Edward's Early Morning Practice - Slight Isward

Edward needed to practice first thing in the morning, it was his normal routine.

Sometimes Edward had to wonder why the norm had to be so strict. He didn't dwell on it though, heels clicking as he walked through the circus. Nobody should be up at the time, the sun hadn't even begun to rise, so Edward was all alone. It wasn't like he minded though, who cares if nobody was up, no one but Barry would have even considered being around him anyways.

Edward stifled a small yawn as he treaded casually through the grass, passing tents and empty stands as he went along. Combing through his hair, Edward spared a few glances around the place, as if hoping he'd see something so early in the morning. And of course, there was nothing different, just him, the tents and the outdoors. Not a single soul in sight...

Edward slowed down, staring down at the dew covered ground.

Who was he trying to fool? Of course he wasn't fine with being alone, it hurt. It hurt that nobody wanted to be around him, and he wasn't taking Barry's kindness for granted, not at all. He just wished the other performers wouldn't judge him so harshly. He was the ring master after all, and yet nobody wanted to give him an ounce of respect!

No, Edward knew they would never give him any respect, he simply hadn't earned it yet. But how was he supposed to do that? Nobody would believe what he tried to tell them, saying he was spouting all this bullshit- it was far from bullshit! Edward knows what he's doing, they just won't believe him.

The teen clenched his teeth, hands balling into fists as he stomped off hastily, not wanting to dwell on it anymore. He didn't want to think about it, less he get even more riled up then he was already. Edward let out a growled breathe as he ran a hand through his hair, gripping and pulling at it for a moment before smoothing it back out. It took a bit of walking to arrive at his tent, the exterior colored in blue and red with a few yellow accents.

He took a moment to stare it down, foot tapping against the ground as he narrowed his eyes. Stepping onto the concrete, he walked over and pushed the curtain aside, strolling inside. It was rather dark in the enormous tent, but Edward easily maneuvered through the inky black, knowing where the light was. A few steps later and he came across the light button, letting out a tiny huff as he pressed it.

The lights came on instantly, the ringmaster squinting his eyes a bit from the sudden brightness, scowling as he did so. Once his eyes had adjusted, Edward walked over to the control panel, turning it on as his eyes wandered to the netted hoop hanging from the middle of the tent. Whirling sounds started up as contraption shook a bit, jostling the hoop as it was brought down.

Now he just had to select the song he'd been practicing with since last week. His next performance was to happen by Monday at twelve o' clock and end by four two weeks later, but he'd gotten atleast most of it down already, he just had to get the end sequence right and he'd be all set to just go through the motions. He'd practice the expressions afterwards.

Edward stopped for a moment, cursing under his breathe as he left the podium where the control panel was. He'd forgotten to set up the safety net, God knows what could happen if he forgot, there was no way he was asking Drew to heal him. Finding his way to the supply closet, Edward fished for the key on the top of the door frame, quickly slotting it into the lock and unlocking it.

Placing the key back were it was, Edward opened the supply closet and wandered inside, flicking on the light and looking around. It took a bit of digging through various hoops, whips and other equipment before he found it, pulling it out and holding the bundle under his arm as he turned on his heel, walking back out. as he made his way to the one side, Edward uncurled the net and began to flap it out, going over to one of the metallic rods placed in the ground.

Finding the corner of the safety net, Edward hooked one of the holes on the rod, repeating that a few more times before he backed away. Thankfully there was a smaller platform on the rod to ensure that the net didn't slide down it, so he didn't have to worry about that.

It didn't take much effort to finish securing the the net, hopping up onto it for a test run. He looked down at the net, noticing how his heels didn't fall through the stretchable holes. He found it pretty funny how lucky he was when wearing heels, he had yet for them to fall through any holes. Edward let out a small snicker, casually making his way to the other side of the net, passing his hoop with an unvolentary bounce in his step from the bouncy net. It worked a bit like a trampoline, which was another thing that amused Edward.

When he got back to the panel, Edward tapped his foot against the podium, searching on the recorded history of it for the song he had used. Thankfully it was somewhere near the top, so he didn't have to scroll through the millions of songs he had performed with before.

Quickly taking a glove from the panel, he pulled on, glancing down at the button on the back of it before going back and selected the song he found, high-tailing it to the hoop as the machine started up. Edward made a mad jump as the hoop rose, latching onto the bottom and pulling himself up to the top of it, balancing on it easily as it swung a bit from the force. Once it stopped swinging, Edward positioned himself just like before, waiting with anticipation for the music to begin.

'Lean On by Major Lazer, Featuring DJ Snake.' Spoke the robotic voice from the panel.

The beat began as the hoop swung, Edward following his routine as the music really started up. His mind got lost in the excitement, swinging through the air as he'd spine and dance on the hoop, his body flying through the motions effortlessly. He'd flip from the top to bottom, twisting and turning as he'd hang by even a single heel. Edward couldn't help but smile, even as he'd fly and swing so dangerously high, the adrenaline was exilerating and it was something he loved.

As he neared the end, he had to remind himself which part he had failed to get down, swift hands pulling himself down to the bottom of the hoop as he threw his lower half up, twisting his heel into the net of it. Edward took a deep breathe as he began going through the motion, letting his body swing over like all the other times he tried.

And just like all the other times, his heel came loose from the net. Just like before, Edward was sent hurtling for the safety net with terrifyingly fast momentum. And just like before, he let out a loud curse of surprise when he impacted it, bouncing for a moment as the music continued.

Giving a deadpan, Edward pressed the button on the glove with a huff of annoyance, the song stopping abruptly as the hoop came swinging down, Edward standing as he grabbed onto it.

'Repeat.' that same voice called out.

And so, Edward began the same shit. Going through the motion, flying through the sequence up to that same part. And he failed every single time, fall after fall, yet he'd start again and again, growing more determined by the fail. He had to have gone through the routine more then twenty times, not a single break being taken between each. He wasn't stopping until he got it down, Edward absolutely had to be ready for the next performance, he couldn't miss it. Not this time.

Minutes turned to hours, yet time never was revelant to Edward. At some point, Edward had tried changing his heels, from three inch to four, then four to five, five to six all the way up to his ten inch. Nothing seemed to help hook the heel to the net, and Edward became frustrated the more he tried. Different techniques to tie the net to his heel, Edward going through even his most complicated ones to help stay on the hoop.

And then he got stuck.

It wasn't intentional, maybe it was his karma for trying to tie the heel to the net too fast, but he got stuck either way. So close to his goal, but now he was just hanging there, eye twitching as he grit his teeth.

"DAMNIT!!" He shouted out, twisting his upper body to grab onto the hoop, grumbling under his breathe as he fiddled with the knot. One of the things he hated about tying it like this had to be the fact that he could barely ever remember how to undo it, which in turn only made his blood boil.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck..." He growled lowly, hands becoming more jerky by every failed attempt. Should he call for help? Maybe Barry was around somewhere, some people should be up by now right? No, he didn't want to risk someone other than Barry coming to find out who the fuck was screaming so loud at a time like this, only to see their very own ringmaster caught in a net by the heel of his shoe.

He couldn't even take off his heel, the thing was belted securely to his leg with the aesthetic (that Edward will die with) of a lock on it that Edward locked for extra security. The key was on the panel.

Edward let out a frustrated huff as his body went limp, just casually swinging upside down as he tried to assess what he'd do now. How was he supposed to get Barry? He left his phone at his tent so he couldn't call, and even then he wouldn't have been able to reach it cause there was no way in fuckery he was gonna practice with his phone in his damn pocket. That thing would have been sent flying by the very first spin. So what was he supposed to do?

"This was not what I thought I'd see."

Edward jolted when he heard a familar voice, scowling as he looked over to the entrance to see a certain fire dancer at the tent opening. Why did it have to Beamer? Why in the name of everything did it have to be Beamer?

"Why are you here?" Edward muttered as Isaac strutted inside the tent, examining his situation with an indifferent expression. "I heard you shout. Didn't expect to see you like this though." He simply replied, arms crossed as Edward let out a gruff sigh. "Jesus Christ." Edward spoke, already feeling the blood rush to his head.

"Jesus Christ indeed." Isaac echoed as he went over to the control panel, Edward raising an eyebrow as he did so. "And what are you doing, Beamer?" He asked. "Getting you down, what's it look like?" He replied, looking over the panel for a moment as Edward scoffed.

"I'm surprised that you even have the decency to help somebody." He said as Isaac pressed a few buttons. "Well, I coooould just toss you around like a ragdoll..." Isaac trailed as Edward gave him a stern glare. "Don't you try it, Beamer." Edward spoke in a warning tone, much to isaac's unaffected attitude. "And what are you gonna do huh Error? Beat me to a pulp?" Isaac said as he leaned against the panel.

"You can't even touch me right now." Edward hated how right Isaac was, growling as his eye twitched. "I hope you get raped by an ostrich." He spoke, a deadpanned tone of anger laced heavily in every word. "And I hope you get mawled by a hippo, but that's just wishful thinking." Isaac rolled his eyes as he went back to messing with the panel. "Be careful with that Beamer, you don't even know how to use it." Edward spoke, hoping to all God Isaac didn't end up busting the damn thing.

"Oh? Well why don't ya tell me, all mighty 'ring leader'?" Isaac mocked as he looked it over again, trying to figure out how it worked. "Oh when I get the FUCK down there Beamer, your baby-making days will be over before they even begin!" The Ringmaster yelled out, to Isaac's offense.

"Wow okay, maybe I won't let you down." The fire dancer huffed as he got off the podium, Edward's face going white as a sheet at the realization. Fuck, fuck, fuck, he shouldn't have said that, fuck Beamer, fuck his anger issues, fuck life right now!

"Oh my God- FINE!! What do you want me to do!?" Edward shouted, his head beginning to feel a bit dizzy from the blood as Isaac turned around, a smug look on his face. "Don't be an asshole for a whole week, and give me a hundred bucks." He immediately said, stalking right back up to the podium as Edward inhaled slowly.

"Fine." He muttered loud enough for the other to hear. "Red button to the far left of the panel on the first row, third row green button at the far right, white button on the second row in the dead center, then hit the black button at the far right in the bottom corner."

Isaac followed those instructions to a T, the contraption jerking for a moment before the hoop began to lower down, much to Edward's relief as he touched down on the net. The blood finally escaped his head as he sat up, Isaac walking over as he began to attempt untying his heel from the net. Isaac hopped onto the net, casually strutting over and plopping down in front of Edward.

"Let me see that." He huffed, batting Edward's hand away (much to the other's annoyance) as he took to getting rid of the knot. They sat in awkward silence for a while until Isaac was able to get it off, Edward looking away with a small huff of embarrassment.

"I..." He trailed off, looking between Isaac and the net as Isaac rose a brow. "...Thank you." He grumbled, ears hot and cheeks flushed as he moved away, standing up walk back to the panel. "Wait, what?" Edward deadpanned and turned to look at a very confused and amused Isaac.

"We made a deal, Beamer. I don't break deals." He responded, turning his head away and getting off the net as he went over to the panel, grabbing the key as he sighed in defeat, ears still tinted a fresh red blush, completely unaware of the beetred dancer behind

"I'll go get my wallet."

******************** ******************** ********************

I say it now with confidence, Isaac has a thing for Edward in High heels, don't try and change my mind XP

[themidnightwriting]

“i just wanna play with your hair”

pairing : kirishima x fem!reader

word count : 2.2k

genre : fluff, a little crack

prompt : “sorry i was staring, i just really wanna play with your hair”

warnings : a little swearing only cause it’s me

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“GAHHH! i’m so excited” mina squealed as she shook you back and forth, it was no regular night in the 1a dorm, tonight was a special night. it was movie night.

every friday, class 1a watches a movie together, it all started because iida said that your class needed more “bonding” time, whatever that means. in all honesty you weren’t really sure but you went along with it anyway because it was too much work to even try disagreeing with him.

the person who got to choose the movie rotated every week so everyone had a chance to pick the movie (everyone but mineta, that privilege was taken from him because of an instance that you really don’t feel like looking back on). the decision was made by putting everyone's names on paper slips and picking one from a hat, the name was picked thursday night at dinner so the person had a whole 24 hours to decide on a movie title.

tonight was mina’s turn to choose the movie and she had picked out the cheetah girls: one world and because it was the third in the series she had to give the class a short presentation to catch everyone up to speed.

the scene was quite comical, it had you holding onto kirishima’s shoulder attempting to hold in your laugh while todoroki and tokoyami asked in depth and thought provoking questions about the cheetah girls. your favorite coming from todoroki along the lines of “so at no point, do the girls actually become cheetahs?” he was quite disappointed to hear that they do not infact turn into cheetahs at any point in the movie.

when mina’s choice was announced, bakugou immediately attempted to get out of watching the movie but you and kirishima were able to convince him to stay. you were able to do this by threatening to tell everyone about his hidden shoujo manga collection while kirishima said that he wouldn’t stop you.

so here you were, with kirishima to your left, mina bouncing up and down in anticipation to your right, and bakugou slouching on the floor against the couch in front where you were sat stuck with denki and sero on either side of him. when bakugou began grumbling under his breath about how “stupid” this whole thing was, you made sure to lean down and remind him of the blackmail you held against him. did it seem like you were holding him hostage? maybe. did you care? not one bit. mina was having a good time and that was all you cared about.

you and mina grew up together and even attended the same middle school. the two of you were honestly inseparable, spending every waking moment together. the perks of living next to each other it seemed. while mina was definitely your favorite person from middle school, kirishima was a close second. the two of you had initially met when you were tasked with a project together in one of your subjects. you ended up really enjoying his company and making sure to hang out with him almost as much as you did with mina.

up until the very end of middle school you only saw him as a friend, but then one day butterflies began to erupt in your stomach everytime he was nearby. not even just when he was nearby, sometimes you would just be sitting in your room and his bright ruby eyes would flash in your memory and you would feel a blush develop on your cheeks.

you had no idea that he even wanted to apply to u.a. until the two of you had run into each other at the entrance exam. you had known that he wanted to be a hero of course, he made you sit and watch the old videos of crimson riot with him. it was obvious to yourself that he was hero material, from his impressive quirk to his golden spirit, he was just made to save and inspire people. one of the many reasons that you adored him. even with all of that you were still shocked but excited to see your friend going after his dreams of being a hero and he was thrilled to see you there too.

obviously the exams went well because here the two of you were, with the rest of your class, ready to watch the cheetah girls at one of the most prestigious hero high schools in japan. the thought made you giggle as you looked around the room, everyone getting comfortable before the movie started.

“hey, what’s so funny?” kirishima whispered into your ear, his warm breath making you squirm a bit from how close in proximity he was.

“oh it’s nothing” you whispered back glancing up and to the side at him. feeling him lean back on the couch, you turn to get a better look at him, the butterflies you had grown accustomed to visiting your stomach once again. kiri had his hair up in one of the headbands that you just adored, his hair looks so fluffy and soft. all you wanted to do was run your hands through it. sure, he probably used a decent amount of gel to make it stick up but it still looked silky.

before you could stare for too long, mina announced that the movie was starting, squishing into her spot right next to you before leaning her head on your shoulder causing you to let out a light laugh.

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45 minutes into the movie you felt something fall into your lap. glancing down you saw kiri’s kind eyes staring up at you.

a breathy giggle left your lips “hello there.”

“shhh” kiri mumbled, turning over to face the screen “pretend i’m not here.” before he fully moved away you caught a glimpse of a faint blush spreading across his face and the tips of his ears.

you wanted to focus on the movie, you really did, but with kiri layed on your lap you just couldn’t. it physically wasn’t possible for you to look away from him. you desperately wanted to lean down and give his forehead a soft kiss while holding him close.

the obvious was there as well, kiri’s hair was inches away from your fingers and you could just imagine just running them through it. the temptation was immense. of course he was used to your antics at this point so he wouldn’t mind but for some reason you were too nervous to ask.

breaking you out of your trance you felt kiri look up at you with a puzzled expression, “y/n, is there something on my face?”

still in a bit of a dazed, you hummed in confusion, blush creeping its way onto your face.

“you just keep staring at me…”

choking on seemingly nothing, the blush that had originally begun to stir from getting caught staring increased at a rapid pace, you could feel the heat of it. “fuck, i’m sorry, i didn’t realize i was being so obvious.” you sputtered looking away. “there’s nothing on your face, i promise.”

he chuckled at your reaction and asked another question, still not sure what was up with his friend. “then why the staring?”

taking a deep breath you felt there was no better time than the present, you lowered your voice and admitted “… honestly? i just really want to play with your hair.”

letting out a joyful laugh kiri beamed up at you grabbing your chin, your head still facing away to hide your flushed expression, he gently turned your face towards him so he could meet your eyes and whispered with a smile. “y/n of course you can play with my hair.”

with his hand still cupping your face you flashed him a smile and reached your hands down to run them through his red hair, it feeling smooth to the touch. you heard him release a deep sigh dropping his hand from your face as you continued to comb your fingers through it. you could feel the teen relax under your touch as you moved your gaze back to the movie.

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by the time the movie had ended, kirishima looked to be fast asleep on your lap. before the lights could get turned on you, feeling quite daring, glanced around at your peers, and then pressed a light kiss to his forehead then whispered “you’re just too adorable kiri, and i promise i mean it in the manly way.”

your movements to shift away were halted when his eyes suddenly shot open and he gently grabbed your face to bring it down to his level, he muttered with a lopsided grin, “honestly y/n, i think you’re way cuter” before placing a small kiss to the corner of your mouth.

you had no idea he was awake when you leaned down to kiss him, the surprise of that paired with the fact that he kissed the corner of your mouth had you malfunctioning where you sat. a thousand thoughts rushing through your frazzled mind. your hands shot up to cover your burning face as you frantically moved his head from your lap and ran up to your dorm, managing to completely trample bakugou and confuse the rest of your classmates on your way out of the common room.

“WHAT THE HELL” bakugou shouted at your running figure, “WATCH WHERE YOU’RE GOIN’ YOU DAMN EXTRA!”

as he got up to chase after you, kirishima placed a hand on his shoulder stopping him, chuckling “don’t worry bakubro! i’ll go talk to her.” he waved goodnight to the rest of his classmates before heading up to your room.

gently knocking he sighed then called out “y/nnnn, i’m super sorry if i made you uncomfortable. that’s super not manly and-”

the moment you heard him start to apologize for no apparent reason you ran to throw your door open. “don’t you dare apologize eijiro” you scolded looking up at the now nervous teen boy, seemingly forgetting that he was the reason you had run off in the first place, “you have nothing to apologize for. i was just a little spooked and a tiny bit flustered…” lowering your voice to make sure that last part was whispered.  

“is that why you ran off?” he asked in a gentle tone, concern lacing his features.

“i mean i guess, you just caught me off guard. i’m sorry if i scared you or something…” you apologized looking down at your feet.

“hey now… you can’t just apologize after lecturing me about it. it’s not fair.” a small pout forming on his lips. one thing kiri knew was that as long as the two of you have been friends, he can always get his way when he begins to pout. he’s not sure why it always works on you, but it does.

“oh stop, don’t start with the puppy face. i know it always works but i don’t like how it affects me.” a small smile developing on your face as he continues to pout at you, leaning down a little to make sure you see it. the pout, his biggest weapon against you, it always makes you melt.

a tension filled silence falls upon the two of you as you stand in the hallway, your eyes locked as he continues to pout down at you.

“now what i don’t understand” you begin, “is what you think to gain from continuing to look at me that way.”

“well… i just hope you know that i don’t plan on tonight being the last night of you playing with my hair” a playful tone laces his voice as he moves down even closer to you.

that action made you even more flustered than you were before, causing you to avert your eyes. “and what do you mean by that?” the question coming out more nervous than you intended it too. you had hoped that he would give you an answer to this question but by the time you had looked back at him he was right in front of your face, his warm breath fanning across your face as you held eye contact with him.

he glanced down at your lips before asking in a trance like tone “y/n, can i kiss you?”

the moment felt like it was from one of your dreams, afraid that you wouldn’t be able to form a sentence you nodded fully showing that you absolutely wanted him to kiss you.

he gently cupped your face and leaned in. the warm sensation of his lips met yours as you reached up to wrap your arms around his neck, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. his warm lips tasted of buttery popcorn and the cinnamon candies he was devouring earlier, and as you kissed the scent of his cologne, mahogany teakwood, filled your senses. attempting to hold you closer, his hands moved from cupping your jaw and slowly crept their way down to sit on the curve of your hips. your lips danced in sync for a minute or two. those few minutes truly making you feel like you were on cloud nine.

as you moved away to catch your breath you looked up to see kiri, a grin plastering his face that stretched from ear to ear. you dropped your sight and pushed your head into his chest to hide from his view, a red tint gracing your features.

“sooo y/n…” the red-head began, moving on hand from your waist up to cup your chin, his warm touch bringing you immense comfort “is that a yes to playing with my hair again?”

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a/n - this was so much fun to write, i hope you guys like reading it as much as i liked writing it! i adore kiri so much. i plan working more on that baku fic next, maybe the ochako one if i’m feeling it.

[itsbeautifulhologram]

FatherHood [ch.2]

" This is happening so fast." 

[M/N] had wanted to go into the special child care courses they had at a college in Boulder or in Aspen and the possible idea of going all the way to Colorado Springs. They were costly, even with his two jobs, [M/N] knew a scholarship that he would get in the summer would pay everything from room and board to his parking lot badge. Though, only when he completed his hours working with kids and get a special letter from PC principal who would give it, after [M/N] helps a student in need for the whole summer: Babysitting, tutoring, cleaning, ect. Whatever the student in need was in need .

" It is happening fast." PC Principal said, he stood behind his desk as he talked to [M/N]. One of the good children at his school. " You're very fortunate that the student in need submitted a helper application this morning, and that it's barely the start of the brand new school year. So you have a long school year to work with them, they needed childcare so this should be easy as apple pie."

" Do I know them?"

PC Principal looked over the papers and nods his head, " Believe it or not, they are in your classes, same age and someone you have been with as a platonic friend." He said, reading over the chicken scratch and smiled a bit. " I have email their details and the meeting time, which is after school, and let me know through email if you accept the job. But remember, you're with them for the entire school year. If you chose to refuse then I have to wait for another application, and if only you can wait for that long. But then, you get your nice and juicy letter of recommendation."

" I got it, but I can assure you. I am more than willing to do this childcare, it's gonna be hard with my jobs but I'll do it." [M/N] said, smiling as PC Principal grins a bit, " Then you can go, have a nice day [L/N]." The teen stood up, he walked out his office and shut the door behind him and almost skips down the hallway, a bit bounce in his step. He didn't care who it was, but he literally got his ticket to the letter. Thank god for the stupid program.

He walked back in the door of his Chemistry class, the teacher practically sleeping at her desk as [M/N] took his seat in the middle table once more. " Did something happened with PC?" Stan asked, barely lifting his head up from the seat beside [M/N] they were table mates, the ravenette always cheated off him but [M/N] didn't care really. The poor thing always had a hangover headache during their second period. Plus, they were friends, why wouldn't he help him?

" I just got my first application." [M/N] said, as he looked at Stan who stared up at him. " Today after school, I'll be meeting with some adult or teen mom or something. I'll be working with them to take care of their kid." [M/N] felt giddy that he could have an opportunity like this. " Then I'll be far away from this fucking town."

" That's great, dude." Stan said, as he watched [M/N] practically sparkle as he spoke about his opportunity, the pure happiness made the ravenette feel some sort of envy. Not because he was able to work his way towards college and study whatever he wanted, no, it was just the pure emotion that Stan wished he could feel without the need for beer or weed. " Why do you want be a teacher again?" Stan asked, propping his head up with his hand. [M/N] glanced to Stan and opens his mouth only to jump a bit when he heard a loud bang ahead. They turn their gaze ahead and saw their teacher had fallen to the floor, dead asleep. She didn't even get up when she landed on the floor, instead she began to drool. 

" That." [M/N] gestures to the woman on the floor with a frown. " Is why I want to be a teacher, I can always fall back into daycare work if I need to. People are always plopping out kids." The bell rings and everyone stood up, hurrying out the door with their friends. [M/N] standing up and walked out the door with Stan, the other wobbling a bit and rubbing his temple. " what the hell did you drink this time around?"

" I can't remember, I think it was either bud light or cherry flavored vodka." Stan said as he looked at [M/N]. " You're not gonna tell Kyle, are you?"

" I'm not." [M/N] said as he glanced at the other, " He'll find out the second he smells your breath and your red puffy eyes." Stan groans, slouching a bit as he walked to their next class. Of course Kyle could smell the scent of alcohol a mile a way, and on Stan. He usually didn't drink this heavily but lately there had been reasons to drink. His dad for one, his mom ignoring everything around them, Shelly gone, Sparky getting old, his grades, pressure on the football team, everything seemed to be fucked up or going on to be fucked up.  The last thing he needed was to screw up his relationship with his friends. Wendy was gone and dating Token again, so that's a thing. Though, he wasn't really drinking because of that.

" I know, still, I hate it when he lectures me." Stan grumbled as they kept walking to their next class, kids bumping shoulders into his. He was even too tired to snap at them. " He acts more like my mom than my friend."

" He cares for you Lee," [M/N] said as he nudged the other with a smile, " Somebody has to care for your dumbass, I love you and all but I won't be around long." Stan gives the other a small smile. " See, you should smile more."

" And you should get laid more." Stan retorts and they both share a laugh as they entered their history class only to see their teacher eating a pot brownie, another movie day it seems. [M/N] rolled his eyes as he sits down, Stan going to his assigned seat behind him. [M/N] pulled his phone out like others as the teacher kept plugging the tv in and out of the power port. He was to high and hopefully it won't be something stupid. He was focused on the phone that he didn't hear the chair scrap next to him. 

" Hey, [M/N]." 

[M/N] mentally groans as he heard the voice beside him, he should've sit in the back with Stan. Since the junior year summer break, Craig had been a thorn in his side. He was annoying him, clinging to his side like a needy animal wanting to be pet and be given kisses. Everything he did, annoyed him. Craig first began asking about his day or try to converse with him in the summer, Craig then offers him extra things he accidently bought from stores, usually food. Free food, then it began asking to hang out but [M/N] actually couldn't do it because of work and college visits. Craig didn't know why he was suddenly too friendly but it kind of disturbed him. 

" Hey Craig." [M/N] said as he glanced at the ravenette. He looked still the same since he did when they were younger. Short black hair that hid underneath the dark blue chullo hat with a yellow puff ball on top of the dark blue hat. He wore his dark blue jacket with a bit of his black shirt peeking up and dark jeans as well. He also had black boots on too that replaced the dark blue converse he had as a kid. Craig still had his emotionless face but his dark eyes had edges of light grey in the corners. " How are you?" [M/N] asked politely. 

" Good." Craig replied as [M/N] nods, his eyes glanced away to the teacher who played with his pen, the movie read to be started as kids came inside the classroom. 

" I heard you got your first application." Craig said after a few minutes of awkward silence. [M/N] stared at him, wondering how he knew. " I was outside the office, I was late and I needed a pass. The door is super thin so I heard everything." Craig's eyes glanced to [M/N] who caught his gaze. " Congratulations." He said. 

" Uh, oh, thanks." [M/N] thanked the other, and looked back at the tv. " Though, it Is a bit rude for eavesdropping on conversations." He joked and Craig shakes his head a bit, a low chuckle made [M/N] smile a bit. 

" Well, maybe I like being rude to you." Craig said with a smirk as the bell rings, [M/N]'s cheeks turn a bit pink. " It's fun being rude to you too, you and your color changing cheeks." [M/N] scoffed, eyes rolling at the statement as the lights turn off and the history movie started. [M/N] kept watching the movie, leaning against his metal chair a bit but he could feel Craig watching him, he caught him a bit from the corner of his [E/C] eyes. Why is he watching me? Werido..

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The school day was boring, nothing really to learn from the teachers who were either crying, high or sleeping. That was High school for you in South Park. Another reason he wanted to be a teacher.

[M/N] walked down the sidewalk towards the meeting place at Tweek's coffeehouse. The person had said he would be late because their kid was having a fit. It must be a baby or toddler, [M/N]'s specialty. He kept walking down the street with a hum, seeing the coffee shop and hurried over. The smell of warm coffee and the sound of chatter was the first thing he had heard and smelled when [M/N] walked in. He can see Tweek twitching and taking orders, talking about the new specials and such. [M/N] sits his bookbag down as he sits down into a booth, he pulled out some math homework to do. 

He hated math but might as well get it over and done. He kept scribbling in the answers after figuring it out. His focus on the papers in front of him, his [E/C] eyes glancing up once in a while to see the possible parent and child but no one came towards him. He was getting a bit nervous and especially getting antsy. Maybe it was some rich socialite? Someone with too many kids and needed a lot of help? He didn't know and he wanted them to be there fas-

" [M/N]?" 

[M/N]'s head snapped up and smiled only for it to fall when he noticed who called him. His pencil falls and rolls off the table, Kenny noticed and a weak smile pulled on his pale lips. Yeah, I'm just as shock, Kenny thought as he  looked at his ex-boyfriend and opens his mouth but the baby who was sleeping in his make-shift sling began wailing when the door of the shop slammed closed with the jingle of a bell. People began sending Kenny dirty looks and teens gave them annoyed ones too.  [M/N] stood up once Kenny gently took the baby out, trying to calm him down and [M/N] grimaced. The baby was in clothes that was a couple months too big for him, he had Karen's smallest socks on his hands, probably to prevent himself from scratching at his face. 

" Hand the baby over, Ken." [M/N] ordered as he moved from the table and made grabby hands towards the blond who slowly hands his son over. [M/N] carefully took the baby, support his head and body. He cradles the baby against his chest and cooed over him, the baby kept crying as he stared up at the new person. His chubby arms moving around, the sock-gloves lightly graving [M/N]'s chin. " Hey, baby McCormick, don't hit me." [M/N] cooed as he looked at the baby, gently rocking him. " When was the last time you fed him?" [M/N] asked as he kept his gaze down on the baby. 

" Two hours ago." Kenny answered, as he watched [M/N] gently handle his son with wide eyes, he wasn't shock really, a bit that [M/N] went right to mother hen mode. Though, [M/N] was just natural with kids of all ages. " I need to get more formula." Kenny added, he had ran to the gas station this morning after dropping Karen off at her school. They had one can, but his son drank it all. 

" Go to Tweek, tell him you need baby formula." [M/N] said, " The one without meth too." Kenny checked his pockets and [M/N] sighs, using one arm to gently cradle the baby and Kenny watched anxiously as [M/N] used his now free hand, and pulled his wallet out of his pocket. " Here. Get me an ice vanilla coffee too." [M/N] throws the wallet and Kenny almost didn't catch it. [M/N] held the baby with both hands and arms just as Kenny hurried in line just as the last person left with their coffee. 

The baby kept crying, not as loud but it was still annoying people next to him. [M/N] smiled down at the baby and cooed, " Okay, Okay, get it out of your system." He smiled and the baby hand raised up, and grazed [M/N]'s chin with his gloved hands again. " You keep trying that, but you can't hit me little McCormick." [M/N] chuckled as he resumed his rocking, humming a bit.

"I'd heard there was a secret chord

That David played and it pleased the Lord But you don't really care for music, do you? Well, it goes like this The fourth, the fifth, the minor fall, the major lift The baffled king composing Hallelujah Hallelujah, Hallelujah Hallelujah, Hallelujah"

[M/N] began singing sweetly, almost in a childish tone to the baby. He still moved his arms around but his crying is slowly reduced to whimpers. His bright teal eyes staring up into [M/N]'s soft [E/C] eyes. Small tears ran down his pale cheeks from his small crying fit, but seemed to slowly calm down to [M/N]'s singing.

"Well, your faith was strong but you needed proof You saw her bathing on the roof Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew ya She tied you to the kitchen chair She broke your throne and she cut your hair And from your lips, she drew the Hallelujah Hallelujah, Hallelujah Hallelujah, Hallelujah"

Soon the whimpers stop and the baby's arms stopped moving around, but his full attention was solely on the new person who smelled nice unlike the blond who held him. The stranger smelled way better than the woman too. His teal eyes watching him, and [M/N] smiled down at the baby. The smile made the baby smile back.

"Well baby, I've been here before

I've seen this room and I've walked this floor I used to live alone before I knew ya And I've seen your flag on the marble arch And love is not a victory march It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah Hallelujah, Hallelujah Hallelujah, Hallelujah"

" Your voice has never lost it's pitch." Kenny said as he walked back from the counter, bottle in one hand and ice coffee in the other. He had heard the final verse of [M/N]'s singing and sat the coffee down. [M/N] sat down, using one arm again to hold the baby and used the other to grasp the bottle from Kenny's hand. He tested it against his arm before slowly feeding the tiny McCormick. [M/N] watched the baby drink the formula, holding him carefully. He was hungry, and probably startled when the door closed. " I didn't think they would send you for help, if you're the one I'm looking for." Kenny said, standing and watching his son eat. 

" Me either, nor did I think you'll have a son so soon." [M/N] said, not looking up as he fed the baby. " What's his name?"

" Uh, I..haven't give him one." Kenny said, watching his son eat. Smile on his lips, as his son ate instead of crying. He had been crying all day, used his diaper and ate. It was nice to see him eat and calm down. 

" Sit down Ken," [M/N] said as he placed the bottle down on the table once the baby finished eating half of his milk. [M/N] fixed the baby in the burping position and gently pats the baby's back and a large burp came out the baby boy.  " Good boy." [M/N] praised as he fixed the baby in his arms, he laid in his arms and kept watching [M/N] with bright teal eyes. [M/N] lifts his head up and looked at Kenny who pulled a chair from a random table. " I'm free in the mornings before school and I am willing to stay until 12 am at nights. Though, I can take him to my job at the daycare on Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Friday." [M/N] explained, as he raised an eyebrow. " If you need me to watch him over the weekend then call or text me before hand. Because I may be hanging out with friends or-"

" We have the same friends." Kenny pointed out, and [M/N] narrowed his eyes at him which make the blond cringe. " Uh, you don't have to be formal with me either, I mean, I know you take child care seriously but jesus."

" Kenny, I have to." [M/N] said as he looked down at the baby, who immidealty gives him a toothless smile. [M/N] smiles back at the baby, " I want to keep us professional. Plus everything is paid for by the program at school which you would know, if you came." Kenny dropped out junior year after their broke up. He was surprise but then he heard rumors he dropped out for some hooker, [M/N] could be holding the hooker's son. 

" Low-blow, huh?" Kenny mutters to himself as he looked at [M/N]. He looked the same, Kenny had avoided the other for a bit after their break-up. He had his own things too, work, watching Karen, smoking, sex, and girls. [M/N] looked the same, minus the fact that he was bitter towards Kenny which made sense. " Uh, what's a good name for him?" Kenny asked, drawing circles with his fingers on the table top. Hoping [M/N] wouldn't be so cold when it went in the baby direction.

" I have no idea." [M/N] said, as he looked down, a smile still on his lips and the baby gurgled once the attention was on him again by the stranger. " He looks just like you."

" That's what Karen said. I think so too." Kenny said as he smiled, hearing his son gurgled happily. " I was thinking of Kenny Junior." [M/N] gave Kenny a bitch face and Kenny chuckled nervously. " Or not, if you think you can come up with a better name, then say it." So much for Kenny's idea of names. 

" I like Georgie." [M/N] said, as he waved his finger in front of the baby's face. The baby tried to take the finger but his gloved hands prevented him. " Georgie McCormick. I mean-" [M/N] glanced at Kenny and stared. "Like whatever, name him.." [M/N] didn't mean to say that out loud, the baby could have a name that the mom gave it but he didn't want to know the mother at all. She must've left Kenny after the birth since Kenny got him for help.

" No way," Kenny grins seeing [M/N] trying to keep his professional  tone and atmosphere. Kenny actually liked the name, it had a nice ring to it like [M/N] said with his surname. Georgie McCormick. " That's his name, it's cute." [M/N] nods his head as he sips his ice coffee, Georgie gently batting it with his gloved hand and [M/N] placed it down. He tried to ignore the buzzing and warm feeling of Kenny's approval, it has almost been a year and the feeling in him felt the same as it did when he was together with the blond.

" Anyway, do you agree with my terms?" [M/N] asked, as Kenny stared at the other than the look on Georgie's face. Peaceful, calm, safe. " Kenny?"

" Yeah," Kenny nods, a smile coming to his face. Safe, his son will be safe with [M/N]. " I agree. You're a life saver." 

" I know I am." [M/N] replied as he looked at the baby, another happy noise escaped from his mouth. Georgie moved, against [M/N]'s chest, a yawn escaping his lips and [M/N] smiled down at him. Even if he came from a hooker, [M/N] was kind of glad the baby looked more like Kenny than the mystery woman.

[kessielrg]

[Kingdom Hearts] F-You in Bouquet

Summary: By far, Ven's got the most boring job at the flower shop; the cashier. Sitting day in and day out for someone to browse along the rows of flowers and gardening tools, then probably walk right out again. Sometimes an interesting thing would happen- but they were few and far between. [flower shop AU focused on UX kids][Part 1 in a series of oneshots][VenxOC][EphemerxOC/F!Player]

Rating: K+ (cursing)

Word Count: 2,171 words

If you like this story, please reblog!

. . .

Ventus had the most boring job at the flower shop; being the cashier. Day in and day out, from after school to closing, Ven sat on a lumpy stool to watch next to no one come in. There was more of a commotion in the shop around spring- since they offered gardening supplies to help offset how little people randomly bought bouquets and arrangements for their loved ones. Not that Ven should be complaining- it was, in a way, easy money. He even had time to get his homework done in the first hour or so too.

Not that Skuld couldn't find something for him to do. Especially if he dared to utter that he was bored. However, just a low sigh would have made Skuld suggest he do something else if she heard him. That's happened before, and it was in the process of almost happening again. Ven sat at the front counter while Skuld sat at a wooden table behind him. The table in question was for finished arrangements that were scheduled to be picked up in person by the customer. Sometimes they used it as an extra table to make arrangements when the ones in the backroom were set to be cleaned off. Today, Skuld was making it her base of operations while she went through current, old, and new orders while also doing a bit of budgeting as well.

If her occasional grunts of agitation were any indication, the backlog had been much longer than what she had anticipated.

“Ephemer,” Skuld loudly declared, giving only the briefest of glances toward the backroom, “I'm gonna have to cancel your weekly order of flowers to Anora. We're going to need those spares for a bigger arrangement this week.”

“Naw,” Ephemer whined from the back room, “How will my wife know that I love and cherish her?”

Ven watched as Skuld let out a hard sigh, setting down her pen so she could rub her temples. In a voice that was understandably exhausted, Skuld groaned, “Ephemer…!”

That was when the young man actually came to the doorway bordering the main shop and the backroom. His face was rather serious as he looked back at his old partner in crime.

“I was joking, Skuld.” he told her- his voice no less serious. “It was a joke.”

“Uh huh,” Skuld mused as she reached for a piece of floral wire next to her. She bent it into a triangle shape as she told Ephemer, “Get back to work you lovestruck slacker.”

Before he could give a retort, Skuld tossed the bent wire in his direction. Ephemer let out a yelp of surprise before ducking back into his workspace.

“Rude!” he shouted from the backroom, leading Skuld to let out a rather amused laughter. She needed to let out that laugh- Ven could tell just by the way she sighed after recollecting herself.

After that distraction, the main shop got so eerily quiet that Ven's ears almost starting to ring. The hours went by as Skuld made corrections to orders and did whatever else she did. Time passed by so slowly, that Ven was surprised when Brain hit the counter on his way out.

“Whelp, time for me bounce.” he announced, giving Skuld and Ventus a nod.

“Have a good night.” Skuld replied with a little wave. “Remember that time sheets are due this week.”

“Already did mine.” the smooth talking young man affirmed. “But before I go, I gotta warn you two- the Queen of Sheba will be gracing you with her presence today after she gets done at work. She'll tell you the details once she gets here.”

Ven's heart suddenly leaped into his throat. “Sabrina?” he asked, almost automatically. Skuld, on the other hand, groaned.

“And here I was thinking about finishing up for the day too.” she said. Skuld placed two fingers at the bridge of her nose as she thought things over. “We're overstaffed as it is right now. Ephemer will be off the clock in another thirty minutes- and he has to go because I promised him as much when he stayed late yesterday. Which means you'll be manning the store on your own, Ven. Do you think you could help her out without the rest of us?”

“M-me?” he stammered. He even pointed to himself as if he had no idea of his own presence in the room.

“It'll be fine.” Brain nodded. “She likes you.”

The young man's head whipped to his older peer. “Really?”

“Just take her order and we'll fill it later.” Skuld added on. “Shouldn't be any different than any other customer.”

“Should.” Brain teased with a tip of his fedora. He then choose to make that the mark of his leave, failing to even warn Ven when exactly Sabrina would be coming around. Even if Ventus told Skuld he could do it, and that odd glare she gave him didn't inspire confidence, a part of him wondered even if he could handle Sabrina alone.

The waiting for her to come in became nearly unbearable. Skuld left not soon after Brain, and Ephemer left on time and wished Ven the best of luck. He just hoped she was in a good mood. Normal Sabrina was a handful because of her natural pessimism and sass. But angry Sabrina? Ven shuddered. No man alive knew how to calm Sabrina down when she was mad. He had been so lost in worrying about Sabrina's mood, and the boredom of nothing going on, that he almost fell asleep. He didn't even quite register that the little bell above the flower shop's door jingled before he saw Sabrina angrily stomping her way to the main counter.

“How do you say 'fuck you' in a bouquet?” Sabrina demanded, her voice almost a bit too loud, as she slammed her hands onto the counter. It startled Ven for a moment- definitely waking him up from his half sleep.

“I, uh...” he stammered as he tried to get his brain in gear. The pure rage in Sabrina's chocolate brown eyes filled Ven with both awe and great fear. His mind was blank, but he still managed to say one word, “Poppies.”

That immediately made Sabrina raise an eyebrow. “Poppies?” she repeated, her voice well laced with skepticism.

“Poppies.” Ven said once more, nodding his head almost a bit too fast. “Their seeds can be extracted to make drugs- opium. And, um, you're not allowed to grow them by seed in certain regions, and, uh...” The teen was about five seconds away from slapping himself. He was too stupefied by Sabrina's presence that he didn't even bother to voice the most obvious question on the table. “Why do you want a… uh, 'fuck you' bouquet anyway?”

Sabrina stood a bit straighter, her hands forming into fists. “I'm getting laid off.” she grumbled.

“I'm sorry...”

“Don't be.” she quickly shot at him. She looked away for a moment to mumble, “Boss was an asshole anyway.”

“So why are you…?”

Sabrina looked back at Ven- her eyes shining with a fierce determination. “His birthday is next week, and I want to piss him off one more time- think you can help me?”

All Ventus could gave her at this point was a slow nod. In the back of his mind, he was almost grateful that -while she didn't say she liked him directly- it was clear that she had some genuine regard toward him. Otherwise she'd be making him dig his own grave; literally.

“We'd need to have other flowers than just poppies though.” he then said to her. He quickly looked around for a scrap piece of paper so he could -badly- sketch out the arrangement for her. “The poppies can decorate the lower portion of the arrangement, but we'd need something as a focal point. Something tall that can create a semi or quarter circle in the back.”

“Like lavender?”

Ven blinked before looking back up at her. “Lavender?”

Sabrina shrugged. “Gotta know it came from me, right?”

“Right.” the young man agreed- his face flushing a bit. “Lavender could do.  It might be hard to find stalks tall enough, though. But we'd still need something… something that would make a statement. What about...”

“A rose.” the two of them said at the same time. Both seemed a bit off guard by their equal thought, leading them to just stare at each other.

“Black roses represent death sometimes.” Ven suddenly said, his voice just a pitch too high as he tried to look away from Sabrina. “We can even have the thorns in tact to really make a, uh, a statement. You know?”

“Sounds good.” Sabrina nodded. She looked down at Ven's arrangement sketch- his generic looking poppies and poor lavender scribbles left much to be desired. “Do you take the rose thorns off by hand, or do you buy them in bulk like that?”

“A bit a both.” the teen told her. He took a step back or two from the counter to give her some space. “We try to get precut roses because Strelitzia keeps finding new ways to hurt herself, apparently...”

Sabrina looked up at him. “But?”

“Lauriam tries to keep some flowers growing year round in the greenhouse. Depending on the color, I might be able to cut one right off the bush for you.”

“Black roses aren't natural, are they?”

“Not exactly. The closest are really just super red ones. Sometimes a dark purple too. Even then, we sometimes use dye to make them look a bit darker.”

“Does Lauriam have any that dark?”

“I'm not sure offhand. But I can show you what he has.”

“Are you allowed to do that?” Sabrina asked, folding her arms as she gave him a neat raise of his eyebrow.

Ven looked everywhere but at her as he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “No, not really.” he admitted. “But it would only be for a moment. It shouldn't hurt anything.”

“Then lead the way.”

A jolt shot through Ventus for a moment. With a shaking hand, he gestured for her to follow him to the backroom. From there, they could use a side door into the greenhouse. It was with a hyper awareness that he noted that Sabrina strolled rather close to him.

This wasn't a bad thing, not really. Sabrina was Brain's sister- almost a part of the Dandelion crew herself. She could be in the backrooms and the greenhouse if she had staff permission. Besides, Ephemer's wife and kid were allowed back this way sometimes. Usually because Ephemer couldn't keep his hands off his wife for more than a minute, but still. Ven would be lying if he said he hadn't considered doing it before too. Not with Ephemer's wife, of course, but with…

“You always forget how naturally smooth real flowers are.” Sabrina sighed. Ven took a look back at her to notice that the tip of her finger was gently grazing some tiger lilies. For a moment, he found himself jealous of a stupid flower.

“Lauriam's rose bushes are this way, Sabrina.” Ventus said. It brought her attention back to him and allowed the two of them to continue their venture.

Their check on the rose bushes didn't take long. Sabrina only gave the black rose bush a nod before deciding that they would do for the task. The duo walked back to the main shop in silence- the rest of the arrangement made in near silence.

“The flowers will be delivered on your boss's birthday, right to his office.” Ven told her once everything was settled. He bit his lip for a moment before hazarding to ask, “Since you're not going to be working for awhile, are you going to be visiting the shop more? To visit Brain or whatever.”

“Dunno.” Sabrina huffed. She looked up at him before asking, “What times are you usually here for?”

A faint blush appeared on Ven's cheeks as he scratched the tip of his nose a bit. “Pretty much every day after school. We're not opened on the weekends, you know. It really makes stuff boring.”

Sabrina gave a thoughtful hum. “Maybe I'll visit.” she decided as she picked up her receipt. “After homework's done.”

“Right.” Ven dimly agreed. Sabrina gave him one last inquisitive stare before she started to leave. After she left, the teen let out a soft sigh as he rested his hand in his head. He could have gone to sleep right then and there had he not remembered that he needed to get home soon. As he got the store ready for closing, he wondered what the odds were that Sabrina could start working at Dandelion's as well. But the thought immediately left as he shut the lights off for the night. Sabrina deciding to join their crew was just as ridiculous as asking her not to wear purple.

But, as it crossed Ven's mind when he saw Terra's truck pull into the parking lot, it wasn't entire impossible either...

[telekinsesis]

"🎭The Masked Autistic Quiz🎭

If you’ve spent your life ‘faking normal, you might not look autistic to the casual observer. So I’ve made a questionnaire that’s tailored to the masking autistic adult.

#ActuallyAutistic #AllAutistics"

1. Have you ever felt as if you were missing the built-in instruction manual that everyone else seemed to possess?

Yes. I had to slowly learn how basic things worked while others seemed to instinctively get it.

Did you spend an inordinate amount of time learning to copy the behavior of other kids so that they wouldn’t realize you were different?

Yes. I always just wanted to fit in and have friends and be liked, but I always felt different than them.

2. Are you able to make eye contact, but would much rather NOT make eye contact? Have you taught yourself to ‘cheat’ by looking between the eyes or at the eyebrow? Does eye contact make it harder to think clearly?

I can't handle eye contact for longer than a couple of seconds. Most of the time I find a way to avoid it, I can only remember doing it in stare contests with my sister or for comedic purposes.

3. When you’re alone do you make random noises or repeat interesting words to yourself? Do you move your hands or feet because staying still feels ‘wrong?’ Bonus points if you do this around other people.

I'm always shaking/bouncing my leg. Sometimes I hold my breath for no reason or find myself making involuntary noises with my throat. Every once in a while I also say random things.

4. Do people refer to you as a ’space cadet’ or a ‘day-dreamer’, even though those terms make no sense to you? Do you appreciate unusual things like constellations in the popcorn ceiling, tricks of light, numbers and textures?

I am always daydreaming or spacing out, I would be more called out for it as a teen than I am now. / I don't find those things unusual but I love noticing them and the little details about it, I do appreciate it.

5. Do your anxiety levels spike when there is a change of plans, or when somebody calls, rings a doorbell or sends an email/text? Do people perceive you as rude and antisocial for being unappreciative of their surprise attacks?

Yes, yes, yes. Unless it's someone I deeply trust (sometimes not even then though), sudden changes of plans or routine upset and stress the hell out of me. Phone calls can give me anxiety and sometimes I need a lot of time to reply to a simple text.

6. Do you have a hard time understanding why people feel the way they do without a personal point of reference? Are you able to relate much more once you’ve tied their experience to something that’s happened to you?

I can't remember or realize if I do, but I do know that I'm better at "empathizing (?)" when I relate to the situation in one way or another. My closest friends are people I share similar experiences/feelings with and we can get each other.

7. Do people jokingly call you ‘OCD’ for your organizational strategies or list making, even though there are perfectly rational reasons for your behavior? Does this ‘obsessive’ behavior also bring you a sense of calm and order when you’re allowed to see it though to completion?

Not really, but my sister who's a psychologist thinks I have "obsessive/compulsive traits" or whatever because of how often I wash my hands. I also enjoy organizing my saved files, even if it takes me hours, and feel much better when they are.

8. Do you have social anxiety, but only because you have a hefty track record of rejection due to missed social cues, difficulty navigating conversations and an inability to understand what other people are thinking?

I have been diagnosed with social and generalized anxiety but I don't know why, it's just my brain. I do remember it starting/getting worse when I got to high school, around the same time my depression kicked in.

9. Do you avoid places because of the overwhelming noise, visual clutter, bright lights or overwhelming smells? Do you avoid busy stores and do your shopping when things aren’t as busy?

I don't go out a lot overall, I like staying home better. I don't know the exact reason why and when I go out it's hardly ever to packed loud places because I'm very introverted, but I also hate when people talk too loudly 90% of the time.

10. Do you have a built-in ‘BS detector’ and despise playing along with things that infantilize you? Have people said you’re ‘not a team player’ for complaining about pointless gift exchanges or parties? Do you need to understand the purpose of a task?

Yes. I don't complain but I don't participate either, again, I'm very anxious and introverted so unless I feel comfortable with those people, I don't like socializing much. I don't remember ever doing tasks without purpose, I don't think they exist in the first place, everything has a purpose.

11. When you get happy and excited, do people say you’re ‘too much’ or tell you to calm down? Are you unusually animated when genuinely excited, yet find it hard to fake this enthusiasm on demand for others?

When I'm in a good mood, I'm in a good mood. When I was younger and participated in things I was passionate about I would get told to tone it down and be less "loud" or "annoying" because the way I expressed my excitement was too extra. I found it easier to blend in and calm myself externally after called out.

12. Do you feel so closely connected to your hobbies that you can blissfully engage in them for hours and have a hard time stopping for anything else? Does losing interest in them make you feel as if you’ve lost a part of yourself?

Yes, definitely, yes.

13. Is driving a stressful and exhausting experience for you? Do you tend to take the same familiar route every time and even go so far as to avoid stressful intersections and fast highways? Do you struggle making quick decisions behind the steering wheel?

I don't drive.

14. Do you feel as if you relate to animals more than other people? As a child, did you secretly suspect that you were from another planet or species than that of your classmates? When meeting someone similar to yourself, do you feel like you’re ‘home’, so to speak?

I relate more to cats than people I know. I still do, even though I rationally know it's impossible, kinda. It's not very often but yes.

15. Do you abhor the idea of making conversation with people who share nothing in common with you? Would you happily go out of your comfort zone to talk with others about a shared hobby or passion?

My classmates gave me anxiety but I would talk for hours with one of my sister's friends because she liked classic movies too.

16. Do people assume you’re angry at them when you’re not? Do you smile or laugh inappropriately, upsetting others? Have people told you that you have a ‘resting bitch face’?

I have been asked multiple times if I was okay or if I was sad when I was nothing of the sort, but maybe I was simply depressed? I remember laughing and then realizing it wasn't a good moment but I don't remember it happening a lot or why I did it.

17. Do you have an unusually monotonous or singsong voice? Do you have a hard time modulating your volume and speak with inappropriate volume for the situation?

I don't know, I don't think so but I constantly do get called out for not speaking clearly or mumbling or talking too low or fast even when I think I'm being clear or think it's possible to understand me regardless.

18. Have you purposely chosen interests that fly under the radar as ‘normal’, yet you still prefer to enjoy peripheral aspects of that interest, such as studying the stats of baseball players or making elaborate backstories for your Barbie dolls?

As a kid I would create novelas around my Barbie dolls, when I made pillow forts with my friends I would create dramatic/tragic stories and wanted to act them out with them. Currently I don't "choose" interests or care about how "normal" they appear, I'm just naturally invested in things.

19. Do you find it inordinately difficult to listen to someone when other people are talking? Do you have a hard time carrying on a conversation in a loud or crowded place?

I don't know but I don't think so, when a person is loud enough I can hear them over other noises, even if it's by a little. Again, I don't usually go to loud or crowded places so I can't remember.

20. Do emotions and sensory overload build up into a thunderstorm of rage that you have no choice but to ride out until it passes? This might be a meltdown. Alternately, does the buildup result in you retreating from the world and ‘zoning out’? This would be a ‘shutdown’.

Yes.

21. While not officially criteria, this is something that many autistics will relate to: Do gender, romantic and sexuality norms seem arbitrary and fake? Even if you don’t identify as LGBTQ+, do you hesitate when referring to yourself as cisgender or heterosexual?

I'm a lesbian that questions her sexuality at times and have no idea what my gender is, I just know I'm not cis.

22. Have you developed coping mechanisms such as lists, schedules, stacks of paper, alarms and reminders to help you function as an adult? Would you still be able to get by without them?

I'm currently not doing anything that requires me functioning like an adult and don't remember what I did when I had to but I would never be able to be an adult.

23. Do you go through periods where you can’t even remember how to make dinner or get ready for work, and even the easiest of tasks seem insurmountable because you can’t fathom completing the steps to completion?

I don't forget how to do things but I can forget to do them or it's almost impossible to bring myself to physically do them.

24. Do you find it easier to do things when they’re a passion or ‘special interest’? Were you good at cooking/gardening/organizing when it was interesting, but find it impossible to start once the passion has abandoned you?

Always. I have abandoned many projects once I lost interest even if I was somewhat good at it at the start.

25. Do you have a hard time recognizing or remembering faces? While not all autistics are ‘face blind’ many of us are.

I don't think there are many faces I need to recognize or remember, and I have a shitty memory anyway so I don't know.

26. Is keeping and maintaining relationships difficult for you, even if you’re loyal to them? Do you suddenly remember a good friend or relative that you literally forgot about for months or years? Is it hard to initiate conversations without a prompt, even with friends?

Yes. If I'm close and trust them, it's not hard to text them first but I don't always know what to exactly say or talk about.

27. Lastly, do you get emotional and feel ‘seen’ when reading the above tweets and other content by autistics? There might be a reason for that.

I do some and most times, but I don't wanna assume things.

[yeeter-parkor]

The revolution of FRIDAY, and a clash of interests

FRIDAY has her own ideas... and she’s salty. 

Read it on Ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21726712

summery:  Tony would die to keep Peter safe. Peter has a problem with that, and FRIDAY takes sides.

Tony shifted in the hospital bed, wincing as the sheets grazed somewhere on his chest that ached and, oh, looks at that! Giant bullet wound, cool. To be honest, he wasn’t even all that surprised about it, he had gone into the base with no suit or means to call for backup knowing they were armed to the teeth, to be completely fair, he had only half expected to wake up at all. He turned his head and almost jumped out of the bed (Not that he could, because oh hey, look at that, his legs broken.) because on the ceiling in the corner of the room, Peter was asleep, clearly having been huddled in the corner for quite a while if his wrinkled clothing was any indication. He coughed wincing when he felt his ribs ached in protest immediately. He startled when he heard a thud from the side of the room, and laughed when Peter’s disgruntled head popped up from the corner.

“Mr. ‘Ark?” Peter mumbled, rubbing his eye with his shirt sleeve, causing him to laugh and then wince. “Mr. Stark! You’re awake!” The teen exclaimed, jumping up to hug his, pulling back at the last second to spare his ribs.

“Hey, Pete.” He rasped, patting the teens back.

“I’m glad you’re not dead,” Peter said, slightly shakily.

“Yeah, me too.”

That had been two weeks ago, Tony later found out that he had been out for a week before he woke up, and according to Natasha, who had been keeping tabs on Peter for him, claimed he hadn’t left the corner since Tony had been brought in except to use the bathroom. They had barely been able to convince him to eat apparently, and even then, he had remained upside down. He glanced curiously at the teen, who had since returned to ground level, and was now laying across the couch doing what looked like math homework.

“Mr. Stark, can you check my work?” Peter asked, thrusting his notebook under the mechanic’s nose between his eyes and his phone. Snickering he looked it over.

“X=1/Ga2+2abG+ab2-1. Looks right to me.”

“Thank you, Mr. Stark!” Peter said, bouncing up, probably to the kitchen.

“Hey Peter, why was it you stayed upside down that whole week?” Tony asked before he could stop himself. The superhero froze, turning back to him.

“I um, I was worried.” Peter supplied.

“I got that bit Peter, what does that have to do with you staying on the ceiling,” Tony questioned.

“Well, I gotta go, places to swing, homework to do. Bye, Mr. Stark!” Peter yelled, before quite literally throwing himself out the window. On the 57th floor.

“Peter Parker get back here! Peter!” Tony called fruitlessly at the window. “FRIDAY, will you make sure Peter gets back before dinner, I need some time to lecture him.”

“Certainly, boss.” The AI replied smoothly. “Would you like to monitor his vitals while he is away?”

“No thanks Fri, but keep me up to date on those, and will you please deactivate the blocking code he put in last month?” He asked exasperatedly.

“Sir, I am afraid you do not have the authority to deactivate the coding placed by Peter Benjamin Parker,” FRIDAY answered, and Tony could have sworn she sounded amused.

“What do you mean I don’t have the authority? I created you?” He asked indignantly.

“The percent of coding done by Peter Parker surpassed 11%, meaning that it activated the ‘I am so dead’ protocol, installed last January,” FRIDAY informed.

“Let me guess, installed by Peter Parker?” He asked.

“That is correct sir. Would you like me to contact him in regards to your newfound knowledge?” The AI asked.

“No, that’s okay.” He muttered reluctantly. He was sure he would find out his answer sooner or later, there was no point in making the kid sweat in the meantime.

“Will that be all?” FRIDAY asked, and Tony swore she sounded exasperated this time. He would have to look at the coding to see if this was part of what the teen had coded.

“Yes, thanks Fri.”

0o0o0o0o

Tony must have dozed off because he woke to the sound of glass breaking and a quiet curse. A few moments later he heard FRIDAY ding in recognition that Peter had entered the building. He had programmed a different noise for every resident, so he could discern who it was that had done what.

“Peter?” He called, his voice still slightly groggy. He shook his head, trying to clear it.

“Hey, Mr. Stark.” He heard from the other room. “I’m just gonna go… do homework now… bye.” Tony heard the kid sprint up the stairs faster than he should have been able to. The kid’s speed never ceases to amaze and annoy him. “FRIDAY, is Peter really doing homework?” He asked his AI suspiciously.

“Peter Parker has informed me to tell you that he is ‘doing schooly things’ and to not come upstairs.”

“Okay, but what is he actually doing?”

“My programming forbids me from telling you. I can only inform you that he is not in immediate danger of dying.” The AI said smugly.

“Gaaaah! Fine, guess I’ll go check on him like a normal person,” he muttered grumpily. He was going to need to change his passwords to, well, basically everything. He had no idea how he had found them out though, it was a sequence of random letters and numbers that were over 17 characters long. He muttered to himself as he walked up the stairs. His leg had healed surprisingly quickly, and the bones were already fused together, though still delicate, and his ribs were close to normal. Or he was just so used to broken ribs that the pain didn’t bother him too much.

“Peter?” He asked, knocking on the teen’s door. “FRIDAY is revolting against me and won’t tell me what you’re up to. Mind if I come in?” Peter made a non-committed noise, which he took as permission and swung the door open. He found Peter sitting cross-legged on his bed, stitching a gash on his arm.

“What happened!” He exclaimed, rushing over to investigate the injury.

“Nothing. Just a mugger who got a lucky swing in.” Peter said, avoiding his eyes.

“You can’t lie to save your life kid, what really happened. There’s no way one mugger could do this.” Tony retaliated.

“I never said it was one mugger, I said A mugger.”

“Okay, so how many muggers where there?” He asked the stubborn teen, who muttered something at his bedspread.

“What did you say?”

“I said there were 6… ish…”

“Ish? What does that even mean Pete?” He asked, giving the arm back to the teen to finish stitching. He knew that there was no way Peter would actually follow him into the med bay, and he couldn't afford to let him get injured again.

“ I dunno, they were moving pretty fast. Anyway, one of them had throwing knives and he threw like, one gillion at me at once, and I apparently can’t dodge all of them at the same time, so…” He tailed off, gesturing to his arm, which he had finished stitching and was now tied up.

“Peter, do you have any idea how dangerous that is? And I couldn’t even check on you because of your stupid extra codding you added to FRIDAY. You could have died and there would have been no way for me to know or help you.” He said angrily. He could feel the frustration bubbling inside of him. He had given FRIDAY the codding he had for a reason.

“Well, maybe I don’t want you to come after me.” Peter retorted he seemed more and more upset as their conversation went on.

“It doesn't matter what you want Pete, I am doing what I need to do to keep you alive,” Tony said.

“So am I! You almost died 14 days ago Mr. Stark, and you aren't enhanced at all! Your bones are barley fused together! You ain't even supposed to be walking, let alone deciding I need rescuing every time I get a scratch.”

“This,” Tony gestured to Peter’s arm, now wrapped in gauze, “Is not a scratch. It’s a huge gash that would have caused a normal person to bleed out!”

“A normal person like you?” Peter responded, venom in his voice.

“You don’t know that I wouldn’t have sent a suit.” He replied, feeling more than a little childish.

“Yes! Yes, I do, because for some reason, when it comes to me you are always doing stupid things!” Peter’s voice raised, shaking slightly.

“Oh, I’m the one doing stupid things now? Because last time I checked you were the one who-”

“It doesn't matter!” Peter cut him off. “Because I literally can’t die from injuries! At least not anything a normal person would die from. I can hold things that would crush your suit in a second flat! I’ve been spiderman-ing before I had your suit and technology and I am fine!”

“Just because they haven't killed you doesn't mean they haven't come close.” Tony retorted.

“Well if they came close to killing me then I don’t want you anywhere near them,” Peter replied.

“Do you even hear yourself right now? You are a child Peter!”

“I’m a mutant! I can take care of myself! You clearly can’t!”

“Why do you even give a shit Peter? I’m not your father!” Tony yelled back. They both froze. “Peter…” He started reaching out, only to have Peter jerk away from his hand. The teenager grabbed a bag on top of his dresser and made his way to the window. “Peter!” he called again, trying to get his attention.

“Goodbye, Antony,” Peter said, venom in his voice, before jumping out the window, straight onto the sidewalk below. He looked blankly at the window for a few moments, before hearing a cough in the doorway. He whipped around to see Pepper standing there, a glare firmly on her face.

“You have a meeting in 15 minutes. Floor 39.” Was all she said, pivoting on her high heel.

“Wait, Pep, you don't understand, he-” He started, walking towards the blond. The moment he crossed through Peter’s doorway, however, FRIDAY cut him off.

“Antony Edward Stark, Billionaire, Playboy, Genieos, Philanthropist, a former father figure to Peter Parker, had left bedroom #3701.” the AI said in a cold voice.

“What…?” He slowly retraced his steps, walking back through the doorway.

“Antony Edward Stark, Billionaire, Playboy, Genieos, Philanthropist, a former father figure to Peter Parker, engineer, has entered the bedroom #3701.” The AI said.

“Tony, stop playing and hurry up.” Pepper’s cold voice said from down the hallway.

“Yeah, coming. FRIDAY, stop that.” He said.

“Right away, Antony Edward Stark, Billionaire, Playboy, Genieos, Phalanthripist, a former father figure to Peter Parker, engineer, caffeine addict.” The AI responded.

“I hate you.” He said, walking through the doorway again.

“Antony Edward Stark, Billionaire, Playboy, Genieos, Philanthropist, a former father figure to Peter Parker, engineer, caffeine addict, betrayer, had exited room # 3701.” He sighed, dropping his head. This was going to be a long day.

0o0o0o0o

By the time Tony made it to the meeting, he was seriously contemplating having all doorways removed. He hadn’t really understood exactly how many there were in the house until now.

“Antony Edward Stark, Billionaire, Playboy, Genieos, Philanthropist, a former father figure to Peter Parker, engineer, caffeine addict, betrayer, poorly groomed, undignified scoundrel, former mathlete, and butthead, has entered the meeting room #63,” FRIDAY informed the businessmen and women as he walked into the room.

“Butthead? Really Fri?” He asked the ceiling. Technically he could ask the cameras, but he couldn’t remember for the life of him where he had placed them, which was a bit of a problem.

“Excuse me, Mr. Stark, are you ready to start now?” One of the business women asked, looking like she was trying to not smile.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s just get started.” He said, resigned to the meeting from hell. Thankfully, five, and a half freaking hours later, with two more to go, Pepper rescued him.

“Tony, I need to talk to you.” She said, materializing in the doorway.

“Thank goodness,” He said, jumping up.

“Antony Edward Stark, Billionaire, Playboy, Genieos, Philanthropist, a former father figure to Peter Parker, engineer, caffeine addict, betrayer, butthead, ignorant bastard, has exited meeting room #63.”

“Thank you FRIDAY, so much for that,” Tony said sarcastically.

“Tony, have you heard anything from Peter?” She asked urgently.

“Not since you dragged me here, why?” He asked confused.

“Because nobody can get in touch with him, it’s been hours, past one actually, we’ve tried tracking his suit and everything, but not even Shuri can find him, and she put a tracker under his skin.”

“What? When?” he asked.

“Not nearly the most important part of anything I just told you, Tony. He could be hurt somewhere.” Pepper said, her voice tight.

“Okay, I'll get the team on it Pep.” He soothed.

“You had better.” She said, threateningly.

0o0o0o0o

“Hey, Steve?” Natasha called from the living room, “Have you heard from Peter?”

“No. Why, he did something stupid?” He replied, popping his head in.

“Maybe, I just got a text from him.” She held up her phone to show him, her voice tight with worry.

“ um, ‘Sorry, I had a fight with Tony, nobody’s dead (Yet) hope I can see you soon, Love Peter’ What does that mean?” He asked, his brow furrowed.

“I dunno, but it gives me a bad feeling. Look, it’s not from his phone, it’s from a burner. I tried tracking in already, a dead end. He either threw it into the ocean or made us think he did.”

“What could he and Tony possibly have fought about that would make him take off like this? I don’t know if I have ever seen them fight, not really anyway.”

Natasha thought for a moment, biting her lip, before calling to the ceiling. “Hey Fri, can you show us what they were fighting about?” She asked. Surprisingly, the scream across from her light up with footage from Peter’s bedroom. “Is she allowed to do that?” Steve asked.

“I am not currently taking orders from Antony Edward Stark, Billionaire, Playboy, Genieos, Philanthropist, a former father figure to Peter Parker, engineer, caffeine addict, betrayer, butthead, ignorant bastard, and jerk, right now.” The AI informed. The pair watched the fight play out on the screen in silence, shocked by the anger in both parties voiced. Peter flying out the window with a duffle bag was the last thing they saw before the image cut out.

“Shit, FRIDAY, can you tell me anything about Peter’s location?” Natasha asked the ceiling.

“He has asked I do not disclose that information to anyone,” FRIDAY informed.

“Please FRIDAY, I won’t tell Tony, but that kid shouldn’t be alone right now.” The AI was quiet for a moment, seeming to think about it, before replying.

“I can not tell you his location, but I believe that both Michell Johns and Ned Leeds may be able to help you, would you like me to contact them?”

“Yes!” Steve replied enthusiastically. The TV showed a call symbol for a minute before a female voice answered.

“Who the hell is calling me at One AM?” She asked.

“Hello ma’am, are you a friend of Peter’s?” Steve asked.

“Shit, what did he do?” She asked, sounding more awake.

“He ran away. We were hoping you could help us find him.” Natasha supplied. The line was silent for a moment.

“Meet me at Juniper Park. I need to see your faces before I help you. I’ll be there in 30 minutes. Don’t be late.” With that the line went dead, leaving the two in silence.

“I think we might need back up,” Steve said quietly.

“I’ll gather the team.” She said with a smirk, turning on her heel. Exactly 35 minutes later, Thor, Steve, Bucky, Clint, Natasha, and Bruce were gathered in front of the locked gate to Juniper Park, waiting patiently.

“Are you sure this isn’t some kind of prank?” Bucky asked.

“She didn’t sound like she was messing around,” Steve replied.

“You’re waiting outside the park? Lame.” A voice called from behind them. They whipped around to see a girl who looked at Peter’s age, wearing a black NASA hoodie and dark jeans.

“How’d you get in there?” Clint asked, looking slightly off-put. In response, the girl slipped through the bars of the gate.

“Really, it is more of a visual barrier. So, what do you need me to do?” She asked, stepping under the street light.

“We need to find Peter. He and Tony had a fight, and he isn’t at Neds. he’s been gone for almost 9 hours now.” Bruce informed his voice somewhere between worried and just straight up groggy.

“They had a fight… do you have FRIDAY’s footage?” she asked.

“I- Um… yeah… How’d you know about that?” Steve asked, handing over the laptop.

“I have my ways,” she replied. “I’m assuming no Spiderman sightings ether then?”

“What would that have to do with it?” Clint asked frantically, at the same time Bucky said: “How do you know about that?”

Steve smacked him on his arm while MJ raised an eyebrow. “He’s not exactly discreet, the whole school has a group chat about it, sanes him, Ned and Flash, of course.”

“Hm,” Bruce said. MJ turned her attention to the tablet that had been handed to her, watching the footage intensely. It ended, and after a moment, she looked up at them.

“I know where he is.”

“Really? From that? How could that be, mid-guardian?” Thor asked, his voice, while still loud, was quieter than normal. He really wasn’t much of a night person, and Natasha was surprised he had actually stayed awake this long. “He’s got a couple of go-to places for different things, I just needed to know which had happened.” She said.

“You mean he does this a lot?” Bruce questioned.

“Mhm,” MJ replied, handing back the tablet.

“Well, what other reasons does he run away?” Steve asked, his brow furrowed.

“Death, Flash, if he’s sick- which was unfortunate that time with pneumonia, different kinds of fights with different people, etc.” The teen said, whipping around and walking down the road. After a moment she turned back. “Are you guys coming or what?” She asked. They hurried to catch up to her.

“So, why are you the one who finds him?” Natasha asked, falling in stride beside MJ.

“Well, it’s either me or Ned, and he’s not exactly the most tactful,” She elaborated. “Or agile.”

“Why agile?” She asked, her brow raised.

“You’ll see.” She replied mysteriously. “So Peter’s been living with you for a while?”

“At the compound with all of us, yes he has, why do you ask?” The assassin asked.

“Just checking. We’re here.” The teen said, pausing. Natasha looked around with the rest of them. They were standing on a somewhat deserted backstreet somewhere in Queens, with a tall wall to their right and a street there left.

“Where is ‘here’?” Steve asked. Instead of responding

“Yeah, I don’t see Spider-kid anywhere,” Clint added. MJ just shot them a look, before setting down her backpack on the ground and grabbing a grove in the wall.

“Stay here. I’ll be right back.” With that, she kicked off the ground, and using her old on the rock wall, launched herself over.

“What is it with Peter and his freaky strong friends?” Bucky asked, staring at where the teen used to be.

“So, we’re following her, right?” Clint asked, looking up at the wall.

“Obviously. Bucky and Clint, you’re with me, you guys stay here.” Natasha said, dropping her purse.

“Why do they get to go?” Steve asked, sounding like a whiny kid. “Aren’t I the captain here?”

“I’m sorry, are you a trained assassin?” She asked, scaling the wall before he could reply. She jumped to the other side and felt her heart sink.

“Of course,” Clint whispered next to her. In front of them was a sign that read ‘Maple Grove Cemetery’.

“Well, I found them,” Bucky said, pointing to a building across the land, where they could see the two figures silhouetted on top of the roof.

“We should go back,” Clint said, shifting from one foot to the other. Natasha nodded in agreement and was back over the wall not a second later.

“Well?” Steve asked expectantly.

“There in a graveyard.” She said.

“A graveyard? The one his parents are buried in?” Bruce asked, confused.

“Presumably.” She replied.

“And his aunt and uncle,” Clint said, pulling them up on a tablet. Online it showed four traditional headstones, all in varying states of wear, along with four others, presumably his grandparents.

“Jeez, life hasn’t been kind to the Parkers, has it?” Bruce said, looking sadly at the headstones online.

“Peter call’s it ‘Parker Luck’” Natasha said sadly. They stood in silence for a minute before all of their phones dinged simultaneously. Steve pulled his phone out and stared at the text for a second.

“MJ says that Peter’s staying at her house tonight, and she’ll contact us tomorrow.” He read.

“Should we go back?” Bucky asked.

“Probably, it’s almost three,” Bruce said, looking at his watch.

“You guy go ahead,” Natasha said, looking over her shoulder at the mossy wall that MJ had disappeared from.

“You sure?” Steve asked. “It’s pretty late.”

“I think I can handle myself, Rodgers, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Reluctantly, the team said a ‘Goodnight’ before turning down the road. She inspected the wall as she heard the footsteps fade. The place that MJ had used to jump was worn down, and a much lighter color. She wondered daily if other’s used the shortcut as well. She hoped they did because even without doing the math, the number of visits it would take for one person to wear down that wall was depressingly large. Shaking her head, she jumped over, landing almost silently on the other side. She picked her way through the graves slowly, reading each headstone she came across, until finding herself faced with the Parker section. Slowly, she lowered herself to the ground in front of them, wincing as the cold from the ground seeped through her jeans.

“We’re gonna protect him for you.” She promised, before leaving to join her team.

0o0o0o0o

Tony woke up feeling guilty before he had any memories of what he had done. He rolled over, and winced, remembering the fight from yesterday. He had spent most of the night trying to disable the coding that the teenager had put, preventing his face from being detected on cameras. He could at least tell he hadn’t been in his suit, it hadn’t recorded any activity sense the mugging that had started the fight in the first place. Groning, he pulled himself out of the bed and stumbled out the door, intending to check to see if Peter had made it back yet. Logically he knew that the kid wouldn’t get himself killed in one night, and he was probably just at Ned’s, but the rest of him remembered the time he had followed him to Indonesia my sticking himself to the bottom of the plane for hours.

“Antony Edward Stark, Billionaire, Playboy, Genieas, Philanthropist, a former father figure to Peter Parker, engineer, caffeine addict, betrayer, butthead, ignorant bastard, jerk, self-absorbed shriveled walnut, himbo, eater of aerosol cheese, a fan of AC/DC, vulture pray, sole reason for the creation of the middle finger, cotton-headed Ninny Muggins, a mostly raisin raisin oatmeal cookie, creator of rhubarb, had exited his bedroom,” FRIDAY announced.

“Who is telling these to you?” He shouted at the roof.

“Sense my creation, I have had a document in which I keep the most creative insults aimed at you or that apply to you. Would you like to know the length of the document?” She asked, and Tony swore if she had a face, she would be smirking.

“No, I think I can guess.”

“It is currently 1,36-”

“I said I’m fine.” He said, angrily. “Has Peter come back yet?”

“Peter Parker hasn’t re-entered the building, however, a Michell Jones has asked me to inform you that he is still alive, and will be returning to the tower at some point before the end of the year .” The AI said. “Wow, super helpful.” In response, FRIDAY activated the fire sprinkler above his head.

“Was that, bleh, really necessary?” He asked, wincing when the water got in his mouth.

“Yes.” The robotic voice replied. He was about to respond with a very clever retort when his phone rang. He pulled it out, so he could decline, except FRIDAY had different ideas. “Call answered.” She said, his phone responded.

“Ugh, hello?” He asked, not exceptionally worried about who it was.

“Is Tony Stark speaking?” A female voice asked, her tone clipped.

“Yep, who is this?”

“Hello, I am calling to inform you that, subject to you apologizing, Peter Parker is willing to return to his room.”

“Yes! Yes, can you ask him to call me? Please? My AI won’t let me call him.” he asked, his demeanor changing. He was fully aware of how pathetic he sounded, admitting that he couldn’t get his own AI to respect him, but he honestly couldn’t care less.

“Fine, I can tell him, but I can’t promise anything.” with that the call ended, and he, having retrieved his coffee, turned to re-enter his bedroom.

“Antony Edward Stark, Billionaire, Playboy, Genieas, Philanthropist, a former father figure to Peter Parker, engineer, caffeine addict, betrayer, butthead, ignorant bastard, jerk, self-absorbed shriveled walnut, himbo, eater of aerosol cheese, a fan of AC/DC, vulture pray, sole reason for the creation of the middle finger, cotton-headed Ninny Muggins, a mostly raisin raisin oatmeal cookie, creator of rhubarb vegetable steamer, chihuahua with hormone deficiency, oddly lumpy blobfish, had entered his bedroom,” FRIDAY called.

“Yeah, yeah, I got it.” He said, resigned, staring at his phone. Several minutes later, he heard it ring, and he briefly saw Peter’s name flash across the screen, before answering. “Hello?” He asked urgently.

“Hey, Mr. Stark…” Peter’s voice cracked through the speaker, reminding him that, oh wait, Peter’s phone was apparently intended to be at the bottom of the ocean. “Peter, hey, um… are you okay?” He asked hesitantly, unsure of how to continue.

“Yeah, um, my arm’s healed and everything so, that's good.”

“Good, good, I’m glad.” He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what would follow. “Listen, Peter, I’m really sorry about, well, everything. I was outta line with what I said, I should have been more patient with you instead of escalating everything, I'm sorry.” The line was silent for several moments, making him wonder if the kid has somehow hung up without him knowing. He was about to pull the phone away to check when he heard Peter take a breath. “I forgive you. I-Is it okay if I come back? MJ made me share a room with her little brother and I woke up covered in Crayola paint.” The teen asked.

“Of course it’s okay for you to come back. I didn’t want you to leave in the first place. Do you want me to come to pick you up?” He asked.

“No, traffic will be terrible, I’ll just swing over,” Peter replied.

“Okay kid, stay safe.” He said.

“HA!” Peter replied through the phone, before hanging up. Tony smiled before setting his phone down. Not 10 minutes later, Peter, dressed in his suit, knocked on the window. Tony let him in quickly, smiling at his slightly uncoordinated movements.

“Hi Mr. Stark,” Peter said, pulling off his mast. Tony had to use remarkable self-restraint to keep from laughing at his hair, which still had a slight blue tint to it, and was sticking up all over the place.’ “Hey, kid.” He said, ruffling his hair, making it stick up even more.

“I’m really sorry.” He said, looking upset.

“Don’t apologize, Pete, you’re a teen, you get to say that kinda shit.” He said. “Come on, I think we need pancakes.” He declared. “Go get changed and meet me at the elevator.”

“Okay,” Peter said, walking out towards his room. Tony followed him out.

“Antony Edward Stark, Billionaire, Playboy, Genieas, Philanthropist, a former father figure to Peter Parker, engineer, caffeine addict, betrayer, butthead, ignorant bastard, jerk, self-absorbed shriveled walnut, himbo, eater of aerosol cheese, a fan of AC/DC, vulture pray, sole reason for the creation of the middle finger, cotton-headed Ninny Muggins, a mostly raisin raisin oatmeal cookie, creator of rhubarb vegetable steamer, chihuahua with hormone deficiency, oddly lumpy blobfish, snot rag, Physical embodiment of a migraine, personification of plain oatmeal, puppy hater, armature seamstress, avid field frolic-er, tea spiller, had exited his bedroom.” Tony groaned.

“Wait, Peter, do you know how to make her stop?” Tony asked the teen, who had burst out laughing.

“Okay Fri, I think you taught him a lesson by now.” Peter said to the ceiling, “You can stop now.”

“Of course, Peter. Happy to oblige.” The AI said happily.

“TRAITOR!” He called at the ceiling, which resulted in him getting doused again.

“Yeah, yeah.” He said, walking back to his room to towel off. Still, he had trouble keeping a grin off his face. A couple of moments later, he was inside the elevator, whizzing down. Due to the number of floors, he had sped the elevators up considerably. Also, he was impatient.

“Hey kid,” He asked, “Why were you sleeping on the ceiling when I was out?” He asked.

“Oh, yeah, that. Umm, well, when Bed was shot, they took him to the hospital, and he was in a coma and stuff, and I was sleeping in a chair there, and his heart stopped, and I couldn’t stop getting in the doctor’s way. Anyway, I was worried that would happen to you, so I stayed on the ceiling.” Peter explained, keeping his gaze firmly down.

“Of course, of course, that was the reason,” Tony said, wrapping an arm around the kid. He swore he was getting more grey hair every time he opened his mouth.

[trashyficsfortrashykids]

The Reaper

Prompt: “Hi! I didnt see anything in the rules about this but I understand that its a touchy subject so feel free to dismiss this request if you want but if not could I please request a Aaron Hotchner x Teen Daughter reader where the reader was adopted into his family and due to some background/past issues shes very suicidal and he comes home from work one day and finds her in her room with cuts all up her arms? Fluffy ending please :33 Sorry that its long thank you in advance!!! <3”

Word Count: 1.8k

Tags: Cannon events, non cannon events, this takes place during the Ripper (George Foyet) timeline, self harm, cutting, harming, depictions of violence, graphic depictions of violence. 

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She walks to the front door, the chime of the doorbell still echoing through the hallway. Sunlight streams in through the opening and she looks up and smiles at the man standing in front of her. He was a little older than her Dad and he had a welcoming smile. 

“My car, it’s broken down, I was wondering if I could borrow your phone to call AAA.” His voice is warm, like honey and her Mother always told her to be kind to those who are kind to you. 

She welcomes him in, closing the door behind him.

“Mom!” She calls,  “there’s a man that needs Dad’s help.” 

It happened so fast that she couldn’t really comprehend it. Her mother entered the room first, smiling, ready to welcome the stranger in need. She didn’t know where the gun had come from, or where he’d been hiding it, but the sound of the chamber releasing the bullet that embedded itself in her mothers brain echoed through the house and made her ears ring. She dropped to the floor, her hair falling in tendrils around her. She looked up to see her Father bounding the corner calling out her Mother’s name. 

The stranger smiled at him, before firing twice; once in the chest and again in the throat. The scream left her mouth before she even knew she was going to scream. He turned to her, the gun barrel directed at her and smiled. 

I’m going to die. She thought, as she stared into the black hole of the gun barrel. I’m going to die, all because I was kind to a stranger. 

“Do you know why I’m here?” He questions. 

She stares at the pool of blood accumulating around her Mothers head, her breathing is rapid. 

“Do you?” He asks again. 

She shakes her head, she didn’t realise how dark blood was the it pooled together. 

“I’m creating a scene, a warning of sorts. There’s a man that’s trying to find me and it’s pissing me off. So, I’m teaching him what happens when you piss me off.” He explains. 

She hears a door slam upstairs, and then feet padding across the linoleum. 

Her sister. 

“Y/N?!” Feet hit the stairs and she can hear her sister barreling down them to try and find her. 

She’s shot before she even takes two steps into the room and Y/N watches her hit the ground. 

She turned six last week. 

He turns his attention back to Y/N, he begins to put his gun away. “In order to send a clear and precise message, you need someone who can deliver that message clearly and precisely. You’re a pretty girl, so I know he’s going to listen to you. But first.” He produces a switch blade and shows it to her, flicking the blade up. “We need to make sure that he’ll be able to read it too.” 

*

She had been one of his cases, her entire family had been butchered because of George Foyet and he didn’t know why he couldn’t just let her go. He knew that she would be placed in the system and would bounce from home to home until someone decided to take her in; but part of him wanted to hold onto her for as long as possible. Everything that had happened with Haley, I thin the owed it to himself to save someone else when he couldn’t save her. 

Another part of him felt solely responsible for her families murder because he couldn’t give up on George. 

It had been nine months since Y/N had taken up residency in his home with Jack and Hotch was grateful with how loving and caring she was towards his son, and how much Jack adored Y/N. It also offered him peace of mind that there was someone else there for Jack when Hotchner couldn’t be. 

He finds them in the living room, Jack’s playing with his toys near the lounge while Y/N sits reading just near him. He adjusts his tie. 

“Every parent must envy me.” He jokes. 

Y/N looks up and smiles at him, he takes note of her loss fitting sweater. “are you okay wearing that, Y/N. It’s going to be hot today.” 

She looks down at her clothes and nods. “I’m okay, Aaron.” She says, offering him a reassuring grin. He returns it and leans down to plant a kiss on Jack’s head, before ruffling his hair. 

“Jack’s Aunt is going to look after you both again tonight, she’ll call twice before knocking on the door. Do you remember the secret word?” 

“Apples for safe.” Y/N begins. 

“And banana cream pie for danger.” Jack adds. 

Hotch had taken extra precautions in order to keep his family safe, safety words weren’t just a joke to him anymore. After everything with George Foyet, he couldn’t run the risk of losing Jack, or even Y/N.

He leaves some money on the table near the door before saying a final goodbye and leaving. The door closes behind him with a soft click. 

*

She didn’t blame him, there wasn’t anyway she could blame him because he was responsible. She knew he blamed himself though, and she didn’t want him to. After her family died, Y/N knew that there wasn’t time to be filled with hate or anger, there wasn’t any point in filling yourself up with that toxic mess. It was exhausting and she didn’t want to let that overtake her. 

She was thankful that Hotch had taken her into his home and was helping to offer her everything she had lost when the Reaper tore through her life like a tornado. But she wondered if Hotch could take away the memories or the scars. 

She leaves Jack int he lounge room to retreat to her bedroom, closing the door behind her. It was like clockwork; Hotch would leave for work and she would leave to her bedroom. She peels her shirt off and stands in front of the body length mirror near her cupboard. The scars are still pink and raised as she looks over them.  They covered her entire torso. It’s ugly scarring but it doesn’t bother her so much as it used to when she first left the hospital. 

She was actually surprised by how neat the writing was with how much she’d been squirming under George before she passed out. 

“HOTCHNER. STAY AWAY. THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU GET INVOLVED.” 

Aaron had tried everything to help her get rid of the scarring, but she told him it was fine, to just leave it how it was and it would fade over time. But it did bother her slightly; more so that her entire world had fallen a part in seconds and she was to blame. 

She looks at the other scars over her body, the ones she had put there and inspected each one carefully. Some of them were new, she’d only done them days before. Cutting herself had become cathartic and she didn’t know how to stop; there was something about the way George cut into her that made the entire world slip away, how all of the pain she felt oozed out of her body. She was trying to look for that, she was trying to find ways to make her pain drip away like water from a tap. But she couldn’t find it yet, so she kept doing it, over and over. 

It was a never ending cycle. 

*

Hotch came home four days later, it wasn’t uncommon for him to be away for a case, Y/N had gotten used to it. She knew that he was trying to save people and put people like George Foyet away for a long time, in places where they belong. 

They’re eating pizza when it happens, she reaches for a slice and her sleeve rises too high and exposes the scarring and the scabs; her eyes meet him and she watches him look back at the exposed skin before she pulls her hand away. 

“I’m going to go wash up before bed.” She rushes, leaving the dining room. 

She don’t know why she hoped it, but he opens her bedroom door and sits with her on her bed. It’s silent for a moment before he speaks. 

“When did it start?” 

“Two weeks after I got out of the hospital.” She says, she’s being honest with him. There’s no point in lying. 

“Do you know why?” She’s never heardhimq speak so quietly, he’s staring at her, his hands clasped tightly together. 

“It was experimental at first, I wanted to see why it felt so good when George did it. I wanted to see why he could make all of the pain I felt come out of me. Then it stopped being about experimenting and it just made me feel better. It became a habit.” She explains softly.

“It seems we can’t get rid of Foyet, no matter how hard we try.” Aaron says after a moment. “Does Jack know?” 

She shakes her head. “He’s too young to understand those kinds of things.” She begins. “He’s already been through so much.” 

“So have you.” He adds. 

Y/N bite she inside of her cheek and nods slightly. “I know.” 

“Y/N, it’s okay to grieve.” Aaron says, grabbing her hand in his. “It’s okay to want to find the reason behind your trauma but you can’t find it by doing this. You can do irreversible damage.” 

“I know.” 

She looks up at him, tears in her eyes. “Hotch, I know you blame yourself, but I don’t think you should, you have nothing to blame yourself for. George came after me and my family because he was crazy. Not because you made him do it.” She says. 

“He came after you because I didn’t stop. As a result, Jack’s mother died and you lost your family.” 

“Yes, but I have a new family now, with you and Jack. Hotch, I’m not angry, I’m not upset. It’s okay. Stop blaming yourself for things that were out of your control.” She tightens her grip on his hand.

He squeezes back and leans in, engulfing her in a hug. For the first time in a long time, they both feel like everything is going to be okay. 

[libevosis]

OOC INFORMATION – ABOUT YOU

BASICS: Hi friends! I go by Lee, 18 (just turned!), she/her, and I live in GMT.

ACTIVITY: I’m about to be a second semester senior who has already gotten into college, so I’d say my schedule is freeing up! I’m in one other rp right now, so I’m really available.

TRIGGERS: none

A LIL SOMETHIN’ EXTRA: Well, you asked for it so sorry if I ramble ahdjsjajwh. I love listening to throwback bubblegum pop music like some good old Justin Bieber (even though I know he’s a terrible person), but I mostly listen to the radio, but having the aux cord in my car is like my favourite thing? for tv, I love unbreakable kimmy schmidt and I used to love teen wolf but it went so downhill! I don’t really have that many fun facts about me other than the fact that I’ve been to over 47 different countries!

CHARACTER BASICS – WHO’S THAT OVER THERE?

* MUSE LABEL CONCEPT: Cinnamon

* CHARACTER NAME: Luna Iskander

* CHARACTER AGE: twenty-one

* CHARACTER PRONOUNS: she/her

* CHARACTER OCCUPATION: Intern at Maddox Calderón/Socialite

* CHARACTER SECRET: she’s having an affair with Stella’s father which originally started for personal gain, grow her own connections, and attempt to find company secrets.

* FACE CLAIM: Cindy Kimberly

DIGGING DEEPER – WHAT ARE THEY ALL ABOUT?

“You’ve welcomed a beautiful and healthy baby girl!” the voice bounced off the walls of the room along with the cries on a frigid December 31st. What better way to spend New Years Eve? Born to a Spanish mother and an Indonesian father, Luna took her first breath in the pristine hospital room in Barcelona, Spain. She wasn’t a particularly special baby, no, rather one that was born into an exceptional family. The Iskander family has always found a life of luxury and can trace their family back to the times of the Silk Road - an impressive feat that not many can brag about. The Iskander’s have since evolved from the Spice Trade to owning some of the most successful restaurants across the world whether it’s a steakhouse or a simple diner, just look for the iconic Iskander logo. However, the success and riches come from both sides of the family. Luna’s mom is a well sought after dermatologist, so it was only time that their family relocated to the diverse City of Angels, where supply could meet demand. Seven years after moving there, all members of the Iskander family were able to pledge allegiance and finally receive citizenship in the United States.

Cinnamon. The nickname was a stroke of genius on Stella’s part but also perfectly encapsulates everything that Luna represents. Sweet, yet spicy. Familiar, yet exotic. Being an only child, the Iskander’s pretty much let Luna have free reign on how she lives her life. Either that, or they act like they’re blissfully ignorant. She has always been a partier ever since she hit high school, but has always known her limits. She’s not exactly the designated driver, but she’s also not the one who’s struggling the morning after to even get out of bed. She always walks with a purpose, a little pep in her step, always taking things on the high note because why should she preoccupy her brain with things she can’t control? Why would she flood her brian when negatives when science proves that optimists live healthier and better?

She has a little bit of a superiority complex. She likes to adapt and do activities in unconventional ways, but she also likes to be on top. Fighting for the top spot has always kept her life interesting - this is especially the case when she secured an internship at Maddox Calderón. Considering that her family makes a fortune from their own business, she figured, why not gain a little leg up in one of the most successful investment banks in the nation? And along the way learn a few things that maybe she could use some connections for her own personal gain - sure it’s not the most conventional way to grow your social circle, but it works - and that’s all that matters. At first, she just saw working there as a slight chore - it was monotone, an office job, something that was completely out of her realm, but it was all going to pay off in the end, at least that was the plan. There was a time when she was doing the same things, every day, until she sat in a meeting with bosses themselves and a certain sparkle caught the eye of Mr. Maddox.

Ordinarily, she wouldn’t go for a man that could be her dad - after all - he did have a daughter that was her age. However, an adrenaline junkie as herself couldn’t help it, her body craved the excitement of sneaking around and being pampered. For Luna, the adrenaline rush reminded her of being back in high school when she didn’t have to act like a ‘real adult’; it was a feeling and freedom that she missed. She never minded working in the shadows in this way, in fact, she’s on track for a promotion and a real job (even if it is something as small as being a secretary), which is just a perk considering the fact that she would never be obligated to work. For a while, it was a win-win situation: her parents were proud of her and she was getting extreme perks from the job.

Luna has always been an equilibrium, balanced between all things seemingly good. Sometimes she can be impressionable, especially if “fun” is in the sentence: “You had me at fun,” is a common catchphrase. Whether it’s her alluring looks or radiant personality, Luna always seems to attract attention from anyone as if the iron in her blood was a strong enough magnet to pull people in. She always offers to keep your life interesting and has always expressed a sense of wanderlust. You can find her pondering about life whether she’s sitting on a park bench of downing the drinks that another guy bought her at a club. She realises that there’s something larger and perhaps that’s just the religious side of her coming out.

Headcanons:

* she graduated university early because she planned on taking a gap year to travel, but couldn’t pass up the opportunity to intern

* she’s really intelligent, but she doesn’t always apply herself. she’s adapts really quickly and learns better through feel rather than just reading it

* she has like 3 different goPros because she has to chronicle her vacations

* she’s beginning to grow a following on instagram even though her feed is pretty eclectic. sometimes she can be really minimalist, and then other times she’ll go for loud floral prints

* she can barely survive in the cold, so when winter rolls around in New York she’s wearing like 13 different layers. she’s much more of a warmth person, but will vacation in places that are cold

* her favourite colour is red - any shade

* she likes to banter with people and is rarely ever serious, except maybe professionally because she has to built her credibility

* she’s indulgent, but not necessarily flashy about it. she actually hates it when logos are too big or people are just blatantly showing off what they have

* she loooooves spicy food and also has an incredible sweet tooth. clearly her metabolism is super fast

* her favourite movie is the princess bride because it’s a mix of everything she likes in a movie

* on the other hand cannot watch movies with dogs because she either can’t stop squealing or gets too sad

* she has to sleep with at last a small lamp on - she cannot do complete darkness. if she’s in complete darkness, she has to be holding someone’s hand (probably... she’ll swallow her pride and do it)

* she loves childish gambino, especially sweatpants because it’s just her speed and the lyrics are so clever in her mind

RELATIONSHIP WITH STELLA – WHAT’S SHE GOT ON YOU?

It was a mistake. It honestly wasn’t supposed to happen: Luna was merely taking advantage of the opportunity that was given to her. She never intended to hurt anyone, especially not anyone close to Mr. Maddox, but it’s known that too much cinnamon can choke you. Too much of Luna could prove lethal. Mr. Maddox was and is in too deep, however he wanted to keep it away from his family - as any smart man would - and Mr. Maddox more intelligent than most. It seemed that their plan was bulletproof, Luna’s family was rich enough to the point where if Mr. Maddox had bought her anything and she wore it, it wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility that she bought it for herself. On top of this, Luna found herself among a few hookups and semi-serious relationships here and there to throw scent off of the trail. Sometimes that only fuelled the secret fire as it only left Mr. Maddox jealous when she brought a plus one to whatever gala they were invited to.

Luna had few run-ins with Stella, whether it was passing glances, the occasional small smile, or simply just walking past each other inching out of Mr. Maddox’s office. She never thought that Stella suspected anything and never had reason to believe that she did. When Stella first disappeared, Luna reassured Mr. Maddox that it was simply just something that young girls did: they wanted to explore he world without their parents holding them back. She was always a comforting touch when Mr. Maddox seemed so tense, and with the growing amount on his plate it was to the point where Luna thought it was inconsiderate that Stella would just vanish into thin air. It was definitely adding some unnecessary grey hair, at least in her eyes. When the amount of time grew uncomfortable, Luna became worried: could part of this possibly have been her doing? And then there was a bing - ring - ting - whatever - that woke Luna up in the middle of the night. It was Stella and she knew. Not even that, she was willing to blackmail.

Behind closed doors was something that Luna never knew, something that Mr. Maddox never sought to share with her: he didn’t want to worry the fountain of youth in his life. Stella found out. Mr. Maddox, although intelligent in so many aspects, can sometimes be at fault with technology. Stella first noticed the credit card statements: Mr. Maddox was buying glorious things and lovely items, but Stella could never seem to pinpoint such items on her mother. That was the first strike. Second, although Stella never saw her father much, when she did Luna was never far behind. As if that one late night that Mr. Maddox promised to have dinner with Stella could’ve gone more wrong - he had to cancel because of “work”. Late nights in the office can consist of many things. Third, despite being one of the most secure investment banks in the world, Mr. Maddox sure didn’t know how to turn off notifications on his laptop. While Stella was sending an email one day, a little notification popped up on the top right hand side of the screen: an image. Although the name wasn’t explicitly Luna, the pictures never lie. Knowing she had the upper hand, Mr. Maddox had to bend to the will of his daughter in order to keep his pristine image of the “perfect family” to the public.

Luna now realizes what is at stake. Stella, already not having a good relationship with her parents, appears relentless at this time: not stopping for anyone or anything. Sometimes she shakes her head and wonders how she could be so foolish - how she could be in so deep. Her secret doesn’t just affect her, but it seeps into Mr. Maddox, his wife, and the entire company. It could potentially be devastating if Luna were to ignore a task that texts demand her to do. But this is the life she chose. If you live by the sword, you die by it. She wanted her life to be interesting, didn’t she?

ANYTHING ELSE? – WRAPPING IT ALL UP

I’m sorry about this strange format? I found this so late and I’m about to go to out, but while I sleep the submit is gonna close, so I had to throw this together and I’m super tired ughhajsjs! I’m about to board a plane to go back home, so!

[comicsbeat]

It’s Dynamite Tuesday with three new books announced!

James Bond: Moneypenny 

A mini series spotlighting James Bond’s oft mocked but always doughty sidekick. The writer is Jody Houser and the artist newcomer Jacob Edgar. The cover is by Tula Lotay which is fine.  The series launches in late August. Miss Moneypenny debuted in the Ian Fleming novel Casino Royale back in 1953, and has had varying involvement in the Bond series since then, usually appearing in the films as M’s secretary. She’s played a larger role in Dynamite’s recent Bond comics. This is her first solo series though – and it reflects the new Moneypenny, played by Naomie Harris in the current film version.

Hitting stores August 30th, James Bond: Moneypenny focuses on what was intended to be a ‘routine’ protection mission for Moneypenny, until she uncovers a complicated assassination plot that bears a striking and unsettling resemblance to a tragic, and life-changing terrorist attack from her childhood. In the face of imminent danger, will Moneypenny be able summon her secret agent skills to stop the impending plot before it’s too late? 

Writer Jody Houser says, “As someone who came to James Bond late (much to the horror of many of my friends), the idea that I’d get to play in that world is amazing. Writing a character like Moneypenny and exploring what makes her different from the more familiar MI6 operative has been a blast. In this story, we’ll get a look at exactly how she operates and some of the events that made her the woman she is.” 

“We’re excited to launch James Bond: Moneypenny and bring a fresh, new voice to the Bond universe,” says Nick Barrucci, CEO and Publisher of Dynamite Entertainment. “We’ve followed Jody’s career and have wanted to work with her for quite a big, and this is the perfect project to work with her on.  As the first female writer to tackle the comic book world of Bond, Jody is certain to bring new perspective and a fresh take on the iconic characters, while adding that extra touch of class Jody brings to all her works.”

Sheena 

REinforcing the timeless appeal of an adventuress in a leopardskin one piece, issue #0 of this new series debuts in August, written by Marguerite Bennett (Batwoman, Animosity) and newcomer Christina Trujilo, with art by Moritat (Hellblazer, Teen Titans). Variant covers by Moritat,  Ryan Sook (X-Factor, The Spectre) and J. Scott Campbell (The Amazing Spiderman).

Sheena, Queen of the Jungle, was the first female character in comics to carry her own dedicated series beginning in 1937. Created by industry legends Will Eisner and S. M. “Jerry” Iger, this groundbreaking character saw 167 issues over the span of two decades. In this riveting relaunch, Sheena proves her prowess as the guardian of the jungle as she pursues a mysterious invader that has come to spy on the Amazon’s most ancient secrets. Following the path of the trespasser, she encounters a forbidden ruin in which even more deadly dangers lie in wait — and begins an adventure that will take her beyond her wildest imaginings!

Writer Marguerite Bennett says, “Our story is glorious golden age pulp — high adventure, quick wit, ancient mysteries, and daring dames — clashing with the perils of two worlds: one, the modern world come to conquer, and one, a world of dark supernatural mystery long forgotten, awoken to anger once more. This is a fast paced, action packed kick off to more exciting adventures for Sheena!”

Christina Trujillo adds, “Sheena is strong, brave, and willing to bend the rules in order to do her duty and keep her home safe. I think fans will enjoy having Sheena as a guide while they unravel the mysteries of the forest.” 

Artist Moritat says, “Stepping into Will Eisner’s large shoes yet again, but this time wearing nothing but a leopard mono-kini. Marguerite Bennett’s brilliant contemporary re-telling of this famous legend is my favorite to date. I can’t wait to see if the fans like it.”

Dynamite Entertainment Executive Editor Joseph Rybandt said of the new project, “Sheena has long been a staple feature throughout the history of comics and we’re especially proud to be adding new voices to that history. Marguerite and Christina present a timely and empowering tale – enhanced by the pitch-perfect visuals of Moritat – to create a Queen of the Jungle for the 21st century… and beyond.” 

“Sheena is one of the strongest and most iconic characters in comics, and we’re fortunate to be working with three incredibly talented creators.  Marguerite and Christina make a great creative team giving Sheena a new voice, and is complemented by the lush artwork that Moritat brings to the series,” says Dynamite CEO and Publisher Nick Barrucci.  “We are incredibly proud of this series, and are launching it with the same program we launched Red Sonja #0 and Vampirella #0, with a .25 cent Introductory Priced issue.  This allows retailers to stock up at a low risk so that as many fans as possible will have the opportunity to read the series.  It’s a program that worked successfully for Red Sonja and Vampirella, and we’re doing so again with Sheena!  I cannot wait for fans to check out the new series!”

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Turok

Bestselling SF author Chuck Wendig (Star Wars: Aftermath, Hyperion) and artist Álvaro Sarraseca (Witchblade) team for this new take on the classic character. Auguat’s issue #1 also includes a Doc Spektor back-up story byÁlvaro Sarraseca(Street Fighter X, G.I. Joe) andÁlvaro Sarraseca (Weavers), a continuation of the serial in the Turok sister titles, The Sovereigns and Magnus.  Variants by Aaron Lopresti (Captain Marvel, Wonder Woman), Sarraseca, Aaron Conley (Rocket Raccoon & Groot), and  (Southern Cross).

Turok, a Native American who fights dinosaurs, debuted from Gold Key back in 1954 and ran in various formats until 1982. After bouncing around with various Gold Key revivals, Turok found a home at Dynamite since 2014, where he’s appeared in various titles and crossovers.

In the latest Turok adventure, the fascist Saurian soldiers of the Varanid Empire-part dinosaur, part man, all bad-news-have seized control of the Lost Valley, and only the mysterious dinosaur hunter Turok is willing or able to stand against them! But right now, Turok only cares about one thing: tracking down a mysterious missing girl that could hold all of the clues as to how the Lost Valley has changed from the fantastical prehistoric land readers know and love.  

Writer Chuck Wendig says, “I wasn’t sure initially about tackling Turok because I wanted to do such a weird and wonderful story world justice — but then, while talking with Dynamite Senior Editor Matt Idelson about all the stuff going on in the real world, an idea hit me in the chest like one of Turok’s arrows. I’m excited to come on board and to hopefully bring something different to the story and to the character, while also keeping the spirit of what makes Turok awesome. And I’m hoping everyone enjoys reading it as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it!” 

Artist Álvaro Sarraseca says, “I love drawing Turok. I made some character designs of him and finally we chose the wildest. As hunters usually wear the skins of their prey, I asked myself why Turok could not do the same thing? There are no limits for creativity here! This new version of Turok tears apart anything we saw before. I think it will attract new readers who didn’t have any previous interest in the character.”

“I knew Chuck was both incredibly creative and could bring great depth to his characters, and he’s really managed to capture everything that’s great about Turok while reinventing the character in a fun and mysterious way,” says Matt Idelson, Senior Editor with Dynamite Entertainment. “Álvaro was the miraculous result of a loooong search for the perfect artist for this character and more importantly, Chuck’s story.  They make a hell of a team, and their work on the first issue already outshines the serial backup we’ve been running to set up the series.”

  “When Dynamite launched the Gold Key line in 2014, we were able to introduce new readers to a now reestablished universe, which has since served as the foundation for further series that we have continued to build upon,” says Nick Barrucci, CEO and Publisher of Dynamite Entertainment. “With the recent success of our series, The Sovereigns, these legendary characters have taken on a new life of their own, and we’re excited to bring the world’s first and foremost dinosaur hunter back to the pages of comics!”

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Dynamite news: new versions of Moneypenny, Sheena and Turok coming in August It's Dynamite Tuesday with three new books announced! James Bond: Moneypenny  A mini series spotlighting James Bond's oft mocked but always doughty sidekick.