#middle of nowhere where she could hone her skills or whatever but like also so she could put herself in her own lil echochamber

[arolesbianism]

I am having role swap Wigfrid thoughts and I adore her sm. The universe hates her little guy swag soooo much

[eastertag]

Phoenix

@janetm74 gift for @katblu42

the prompts: 1) Lee Taylor, 2) rising like a phoenix and 3) a bird with a broken wing, preferably a Thunderbird.

‘Uncle Lee, Uncle Lee!’ the twins shouted, rushing up to him and throwing themselves around his legs. He bent and scooped them up as their parents followed them at a more sedate pace, bemused smiles on their faces.

‘Tina, Vincent,’ Lee said, inclining his head to them as they all made their way back into the house, and the grins broadened. Some things would never change. As Lee sat down, one child on each knee, Kayo disappeared to get supper ready while Virgil entertained their guest. 

Or rather, while their guest entertained them.

Lucy Ruth and Grant Jefferson Tracy loved their Uncle Lee. Even if he couldn’t get their names, or their parents’ names right, he told the best stories. They didn’t get to see him as often as they would like, but every time he visited the island he made sure to spend some time with them.

Virgil came over and held his arms out for one of his children. ‘Come on, bed time,’ he said, taking Grant as Lee stood up with Lucy. This was often the highlight of his visit, and Lee wouldn’t swap this opportunity for anything.

Putting the youngsters to bed, Virgil and Lee exchanged glances, waiting for the inevitable request, and Grant didn’t fail to deliver. ‘Story, Uncle Lee! Story!’ he clamoured, his sister joining in. Lee grinned. ‘Which one do you want to hear?’ The children shared a glance, then squealed together: ‘The phoenix! Tell us about the phoenix!’

Lee chuckled. He’d lost count of how often they requested this one and he sat in the chair between the two beds while Virgil disappeared to assist his wife in the kitchen, safe in the knowledge that his two would be well looked after.

‘Well, Lana and Gerry, have you ever seen a phoenix?’ he started, and as usual both children nodded and pointed at him. He rolled his right sleeve up to reveal the faded tattoo. The phoenix, rising from the flames and ashes, screaming defiance to the sky. ‘That’s right. I got this after a particularly difficult rescue…

‘Damn it, Lee, that was too close!’ Jeff yelled, pulling Thunderbird Two up and away sharply.  The corresponding swearing told him that Lee was alright, if a bit shaken. The voice of his eldest came over the comms: ‘careful, Uncle Lee. We don’t want those roughneckers thinking you’re one of them rather than one of us rescuers!’ Jeff chuckled as Lee retorted rather sharply, ‘careful yourself, Spencer, we wouldn’t want you to…’ whatever he was saying was cut off by another explosion on the rig. 

Ribbing would have to wait, and both Lee and Virgil got the rescue platform ready for its’ last run, while Jeff used Two and Scott used One to stabilise the platform enough to get the last lot of workers off. John confirmed from Five that all emergency protocols had been initiated, and that capping the well now only required the special missile Brains had put together.

Scott fired the missile once the rescue platform was safely away in Two, and both ’birds headed back to the mainland. Two dropped off the workers at the hospital and they headed back home, Virgil flying and his dad co-piloting him. 

Not long after the four men could be found relaxing by the pool. International Rescue was still very new, that rescue had counted as their last single digit. Nine rescues in eight weeks. Sure they had started slowly, but as news spread about the organisation rescues were picking up. With all three of his eldest on board since the start, having had some background training in their respective fields beforehand, Virgil was now starting to go out and put his engineering skills to use. Jeff had made it very clear to his son that Two was his, but he needed some more training on the rescuing side before his dad would hand over control completely.

That was why Lee was here. Jeff and Scott may be pilots, but Lee was the engineer, as was Virgil, and Jeff had thought that his old friend and fellow astronaut would be ideal to help Virgil learn how to assess and react on the fly, as it were. Scott was an excellent commander, and could make snap decisions that were 99.9% right, but he wasn’t an engineer, and some of the decisions involving structural integrity and stability Virgil already knew how to call. It was what would make Scott and Virgil such a brilliant team – their respective skills complemented each other perfectly, they just needed honing.

Lee spent the next couple of days going over simulations with both boys, drills being run again and again until the two worked as one and they ‘won’ every time. They were fast studies, and Lee was more than happy at the way ‘Vincent’ picked up making decisions quickly, and his confidence at telling ‘Spencer’ when he was wrong or needed to take account of a variable.

He was preparing to return to Alpha Moon Base in two days. They spent his penultimate night with a barbeque, retelling how their dad and Lee had made the Mars landing, how Lee had needed to engineer a solution within seconds while Jeff was fighting to pilot the craft, how they barely made it. Sure, with every telling Lee embellished some part or other, but the overall story was not lost on Scott and Virgil. Always be aware of what you can use around you, think on your feet, Never Give Up.

The next morning all four were torn from their sleep by the emergency klaxon. 2:30 am was not a time any of them were used to getting up, but the ability to jump out of bed, dress and present oneself to the lounge for briefing Virgil was gradually getting used to. Scott never had a problem with this, his military training more than enough to prepare for this. John also didn’t have an issue with his NASA background. 

It was, so far, their third early morning call. Getting into the lounge last was not unusual, but at least he was awake. Scott passed him a coffee that he seemed to magic from nowhere, and he gratefully sipped the scalding drink while John filled them all in. 

A mine collapse in England with several workers trapped. However, the good news was that they had had notice, so the majority of workers had been able to get away. Scott was dispatched immediately, while Brains, Lee and Virgil poured over the plans of the mine and surrounding areas, checking geology and if there was going to be any surprises.  The only thing they worried about was that there were several ventilation shafts dug out over the larger area, which was a forest, and the possibility of an explosion of the gases that naturally built up was quite high. With that knowledge in mind, Two set off with the Mole, Jeff piloting and Virgil co-piloting.

It took Scott no time at all to reach the mine, and his report confirmed everything that they had already known and prepared for. As he set about organising what he could on the ground, Virgil and Lee went over the geology again, mulling over potential issues and discussing contingency measures. Jeff listened in, his confidence and pride in how quickly his son had assimilated to his role growing.

Lee and Virgil took the mole down, and it was a textbook rescue. Five miners, minor injuries only, it took around an hour to get them all loaded on the mole. The injured were loaded onto the waiting ambulances and International Rescue were thanked profusely. As they cleared away the equipment and loaded everything, Jeff looked at Lee and he nodded. It was time. As the four returned to the ’birds, Virgil was surprised when his dad walked past Two and carried on to One with Scott. Scott glanced back at his brother, grinning madly, and gave him a thumbs-up. 

‘Dad?’ called Virgil after them, uncertain despite his brother’s obvious glee. Jeff turned around and came over to his middle son, placing his hands on his son’s shoulders. ‘Virgil, you performed really well on this rescue, both Lee and Brains said you made the recommendations yourself, you decided where to drill, you looked out the potential danger sites. You’ve more than earnt the right to fly your ’bird home without your old man standing over your shoulder.’ He thumbed over his shoulder to a waiting Scott, ‘that’s your brother’s privilege today.’ Scott mock-scowled, but he really couldn’t keep the grin off his face, and neither could anyone else.

One shot off into the distance. Virgil knew his brother would be waiting for him, but for the moment One was out of sight, and Lee huffed something about ‘show-off flyboys’ and ‘like father like son.’ Virgil just grinned. They were all flyboys really, well, except possibly Gordon but even he could fly competently (not that their eldest brother would ever admit that), only Scott seemed to have inherited their father’s love of speed so far. Alan may have, but he was too young to earn his wings yet.

Two rose more slowly – majestically was the phrase Virgil preferred, thank you very much – but she had her own turn of speed. The take-off may not be as impressive as her sister but compared to other aircraft his girl was fantastic. Using her VTOL’s to gain enough lift to engage her main engine, both Virgil and Lee kept an eye on the forest around them so they didn’t set fire to any trees. Trying to ensure he didn’t, Virgil nudged Two forward as she rose.

They hadn’t got far into the air when Lee suddenly shouted. But whatever he was shouting about was lost in the roar of an explosion that rocked Two violently, catching her back and left side, causing her to spin out of control.

Lee came too with several voices yelling for him and Vincent, er…Virgil. He wasn’t sure what had happened, but at the moment his concentration was all on shutting the voices up to stop his head from hurting. Oh, yeah. He needed to open his eyes to do that, and boy was that a mistake. Bright light assaulted him, followed closely by the smell of burning…he knew that smell, it was familiar to him. The smell of burning electrics!

It was the jolt he needed to get himself moving. Unbuckling his belt, he quickly checked himself over, nope, no injuries other than the cracked head and possible whiplash. He wiped the blood off his forehead while he stood up.

Second big mistake. He immediately doubled over and vomited. Ok, make that cracked head, possible whiplash and a concussion. But there was something more important he needed to do. The shouting was still shrill in his head and ear, but he ignored it, hauling himself over to check on Vinc…Virgil. The young man was out cold, a similar gash to his head.

It was the fire all around them that worried him. There was an extinguisher – Brains ever the overcautious, but this was extensive and he knew he needed to get them both out of there quicker than treating the flames would allow for. But as he tried the upper exit the resultant failure to open was no surprise. They would need to get out of the cockpit and the side door.

One of the advantages of being ‘space-trained’, as Lee often termed it, was that it taught you to think on the fly and to use whatever was to hand. And what was on hand, just outside the cockpit, was a prototype suit Brains was in the middle of designing for Virgil, to assist with heavy lifting. At the moment the bare bones were there, and it would be the best thing to use. Even if opening the door was easy, they would be surrounded by debris.

Good job he was strong, Lee reflected, hoisting Jeff’s middle boy into a fireman’s carry. This boy was heavy! He staggered out of the cockpit and into the service way, stopping before the entrance to the pod. The exosuit was housed here, a small area set aside for her, and Lee was thankful that he and Vincent were the same height as he carefully laid the lad down and got into the suit.

As with everything Brains created, the suit adjusted to fit him, and Lee marvelled at the engineering behind it. With a whirl of gears and pistons lee was moving, Vinny over his shoulder, over to the doorway. Thankfully this one slid open easily, Cahelium being so very tough, but outside the ’bird the forest was ablaze.

No sooner had Two got caught up in the fireball, Five had notified One, and a horrified pair of rescuers turned around and raced back in time to see her crash. Training taking over familial responsibilities, they set about using One’s cannon to blast the rapidly spreading fire. Jeff knew that One didn’t carry enough to douse this and directed John to call the local fire services. Scott set One down some distance away, both men inwardly seething at the distance needed because of the fire.

Their priority was to get Lee and Virgil out, so donning their fireproof suits Jeff grabbed two spare oxygen tanks while Scott grabbed extra fire extinguishing tanks, and the two set off while John constantly called to the downed men.

As Jeff and Scott burst through the forest they were met by an astonishing sight. Lee Taylor, resplendent in the exosuit prototype, Virgil over his shoulder, both bathed in the flames around them. The exosuit, still unpainted in this testing phase, shone reds and yellows. They appeared almost in slow motion.

Later, later Scott would mention how like the phoenix Lee looked appearing so suddenly. But right now, all their attention was focused on rescuing Lee and Virgil and putting out the fire.

…and once your Uncle Scott mentioned the Phoenix, that was it. Of course, that was the seed sown, but I didn’t get the tattoo straight away. Returning to Alphie was next on the cards, and it wasn’t until several years later, when your Grandpa Jeff was missing. When your Uncles Spencer and Alvin came to rescue me and Alphie was destroyed I felt that my life as an astronaut was over. Then Spencer gave me another chance when we went to Mars.

When Tina, your mom, came and found me I felt that I was given a second chance at life at my age, and I remembered Spencer remarking about the phoenix and I thought “that’s me, that’s my life.” Your uncles gave me my life back, a second life just like the phoenix. Then they went and rescued your Grandpa, and my third life began, teaching the next generation of Mars settlers.’

By the time Lee had finished both children were asleep, and Virgil and Kayo were wrapped around each other in the doorway. Hearing how their weird Uncle Lee saved their dad’s life never failed to fascinate the pair, and they loved the tattoo. Virgil had been honoured when he’d been asked to design it.

The three adults retired to the living room to reminisce. 

[orangeoctopi7]

Walking Like a One-Man Army

I guess this chapter is kinda for @soosly ? It does prominently feature Soos being a BA.

: Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 :

The three of them piled into Soos’s truck. Ford elected to slide into the back of the cab with Mabel rather than sit shotgun. He needed to tell his niece what Debbs had decided.

���Mabel, I, uh…” He said slowly, “I spoke with your mother earlier this morning…”

The colorful girl tensed and pulled the collar of her sweater up a bit. Had all their ill-fated conversations over the last couple of days left her apprehensive to even speak with him?

“...I told her I wanted to keep Dipper on as my apprentice, and that you were welcome to stay here as well. Unfortunately, she, uh, declined to grant her permission.” 

“Oh!” Mabel smiled with relief, letting her collar drop. “That’s ok! Me and Dipper already talked about it and decided not to stay here anyway, so everything works out!”

Ford’s heart sank. So Stan was wrong. The children had indeed come to realize the old researcher was a toxic influence in their lives. He tried to tell himself it was for the best, to focus on his intellect and control his emotions, but controlling anguish was a lot harder than controlling fear. He at least was able to keep his expression neutral as he found something else to distract him: nitpicking grammar.

“Dipper and I.” He corrected her mechanically. “In any case, we need to come up with a plan to confront Bill and find Fiddleford.”

“He’s got this little shelter next to one of the telephone poles.” Soos commented from the driver’s seat. “It’s actually surprisingly nice for something in the middle of the dump made completely out of scrap material.”

“If Bill’s expecting us, that’s probably where he’ll be.” Ford said gravely. “I imagine he’ll keep Fiddleford close-by, to keep a close eye on his bargaining chip. We’ll need a distraction. Bill may be an all-seeing eye, but even he has trouble splitting his attention.” 

“Oooh, I’m super amazing at being a distraction!” Mabel piped up.

“I don’t doubt that.” Ford nodded, fondness somehow managing to slip past all the other emotions he was repressing. “But I promised your brother and Stan that I’d keep you safe, so I need you to stay close to me. Soos, do you think you could be a good distraction?”

“Oh yeah, totally.” Soos said nonchalantly. “Mr. Pines asks me to be the distraction all the time! When the taxman comes, or the safety inspector, or the police….”

“Of course he does.” Ford muttered. “What I need you to do is keep Bill’s attention while Mabel and I look for Fiddleford and get him to safety. Bill should still be possessing that time travel agent, so while he won’t be able to access any of the reality-warping powers he wields in the mindscape, he will have access to any weapon from Gravity Falls’ history or future. You’ll need to be ready for anything.”

“Well, they did teach me how to disarm an opponent with a gun or knife in my karate class, so I’ll probably be ok.”

* * *

It was quieter that Mabel was used to when they reached the dump. Normally, you could hear the sound of power tools and banjo strings even from the dump’s entrance, but not today. Today was deceptively peaceful.

The peace was broken by an eerie, high-pitched laugh. It was coming from the center of the dump, but as they looked around frantically, they couldn’t see their enemy anywhere. Ford fired his blaster, obliterating a board in the fence with a one-eyed triangle carved into it. 

“Well, he knows we’re here.” He said gravely. 

“What should we do?” Mabel asked.

“Proceed with the plan. Soos, you head straight for the center of the dump, we’ll go around the long way. Mabel, do you think you’ll be able to lead me to Fiddleford’s shelter if we don’t take a direct route?”

Mabel nodded with determination, even though she was only about 50% sure she’d be able to find the place, considering she’d only been there once. 

They split up, Mabel leading Ford towards the east wall of the dump. She was pretty sure if she climbed up the pile of wrecked cars there, she’d be able to look out over the dump and figure out a way to get to McGucket’s shelter, and maybe even see where Bill was at.

While running through the dump, they heard the occasional scurry of a racoon or possum through the trash. It was clear that Ford’s already twitchy nerves were on high alert, and he leveled his blaster at every single one. Luckily, he hadn’t been startled enough to fire it yet, which was good because they were trying to sneak around while Soos was distracting Bill.

The stack of cars was within sight when they noticed more scurrying around the corner. Only unlike all the other scurries they’d heard, it seemed to be running towards them instead of away from them. Ford pointed his blaster yet again, and pulled Mabel behind him.

“PEEKABOO!” Blendin’s face wearing a contorted grin popped out from around the corner. “WOW, SIXER, YOU REALLY EXPECTED ME TO TAKE THE BAIT AND GO AFTER QUESTION MARK? PPPPFT, PLEASE! HE’S NOWHERE NEAR AS FUN TO MESS WITH AS YOU! OR SHOOTING STAR, FOR THAT MATTER.” 

Bill took a few menacing steps towards them and leaned down so he was closer to Mabel’s eye-level. “WHADDAYA SAY KID? HOW WOULD YOU LIKE A NEVER-ENDING PARTY FOR YOUR BIRTHDAY? I’LL MAKE SURE ALL YOUR LITTLE FRIENDS ARE THERE, AND YOU’LL NEVER HAVE TO GO TO HIGHSCHOOL! IN FACT, YOU’LL BE ABLE TO DO WHATEVER YOU WANT! ALL YOU GOTTA DO IS GIVE ME THAT RIFT!”

“Don’t you dare speak to her.” Ford growled. 

“You’re a butt-brain!” Mabel shouted, flinging out the worst insult she could think of.

Bill shrugged Blendin’s shoulders smugly. “OH WELL. I WAS GONNA LET YOU HAVE YOUR OWN PERSONAL PARADISE BUBBLE FOR YOU AND YOUR FRIENDS, BUT IF YOU’RE NOT GONNA COOPERATE WITH ME, I GUESS YOU’LL JUST HAVE TO SUFFER UNIMAGINABLE PAIN AND DESTRUCTION LIKE THE REST OF YOUR MISERABLE DIMENSION.” He pulled out a large rusty pipe and hefted it threateningly in his hands. “SO, WHERE’S THAT RIFT, IQ?”

“You really think I was stupid enough to bring it here with me?” Ford scoffed.

“WELL, I MEAN, YOU WERE STUPID ENOUGH TO TRUST ME.” Bill counted on his fingers. “AND TO THINK YOUR BROTHER WOULD ACTUALLY LISTEN TO YOU WHEN YOU CALLED FOR HELP. AND TO USE TOO MUCH GLUE WHEN YOU TRIED TO SEAL THE RIFT. SO YEAH. I DO THINK YOU’RE THAT STUPID.”

“Well I’m not.”

“OH, LEMME GUESS. YOU LEFT IT WITH PINETREE?”

“And with Grukle Stan!” Mabel added defiantly.

Bill snorted. “YEAH, ‘CUZ I’M REAL SCARED OF HIM!”

The possessed time traveler didn’t even get a derisive chuckle out before Soos barreled into him with a flying kick.

“Hey dude, I need you to pay attention to me for the next, I dunno, five to ten minutes?” He looked over at Ford. “D’you think that’s enough time?”

Ford just nodded mutely, unsure of how else to react to the handyman’s sudden entrance.

Bill picked his possessed body up off the ground. “YOU WANT ME TO PAY ATTENTION TO YOU, QUESTION MARK? HOW DO YOU LIKE THIS ATTENTION?” He pulled out a time tape and disappeared in a flash, only to reappear a second later with a large carpenter’s hammer in his hand. He threw it at Soos, who dodged it with skills honed from ten years of karate sparring.

As Bill continued to pursue Soos, pulling out weapons from random time periods as he went, Ford pulled Mabel away, back towards the center of the dump. This was just the distraction they needed, it just happened in a different order than they’d been expecting. 

So, her original plan to look for McGucket’s shelter from the top of a trash mountain wasn’t going to work now, but she could still find it, right? She remembered that a telephone pole had been one of the main support beams in the little hut, so she just needed to follow the telephone lines! Spotting one above, she rushed ahead, now pulling Ford instead of the other way around.

Sure enough, they came upon McGucket’s hovel nearby. Too nearby. They could still hear Soos doing his best to lead Bill on a wild goose-chase on the opposite side of a pile of discarded furniture and tires. But they could also hear a low, animal-like moan from inside the shelter. The two of them rushed across the clearing, hoping to reach the fox skin that acted as a door before Bill rounded the trash pile.

Before they could reach it, two things happened.

First of all, a loud, up-beat pop song started blaring out of Mabel’s pocket. 

“Girl, oh girl, you got it all, you know.”

“But girl, oh girl, you don’t got me, no!”

Mabel slapped her forehead and pulled out her phone, trying to silence it. “Ugh, Pacifica! Bad timing!”

Second, Bill blew away the trash pile with a shot from a cannon, sending chunks of broken wood and plastic everywhere and clearing a path between him and the shelter.

“THERE YOU ARE!”

Mabel just barely managed to hold onto her phone as Ford grabbed her by the arm and practically threw her into the door. He hurtled in after her, but no second shot came. Instead, they heard a loud, frustrated groan.

“UUUGH, WHY DO YOU HUMANS MAKE WEAPONS THAT ARE SUCH A WASTE OF TIME? WHO THOUGHT IT WAS A GOOD IDEA TO HAVE TO REPACK THE GUNPOWDER AND ROLL IN ANOTHER BALL EVERY TIME YOU WANT TO SHOOT SOMETHING?”

“Well, it’s not that they thought it was a good idea, it’s just that they hadn’t developed the technology--” Ford started to explain when Mabel reached up and covered his mouth. He really couldn’t help himself sometimes, could he?

That same moan they’d heard before came again, louder, from under a pile of newspapers. Many of them had frantic calculations scribbled all over them. Ford reached down and brushed them aside, revealing a shivering, hyperventilating McGucket.

Mabel had seen McGucket be pretty crazy this summer. He’d jigged on an unplugged videogame for a week, ate his way out of a dinosaur, and claimed he preferred to walk backwards when she gave him a makeover. But she’d never seen him look so terrified and broken. His eyes were wide and unfocused, like he didn’t even notice they were there, and his breaths were coming in short, sharp whines. It was especially sad compared to the last time she’d seen him, when his mind really seemed like it was beginning to clear.

Ford looked down on his friend, absolutely devastated. If McGucket was looking bad compared to the last time Mabel had seen him, she could only imagine how he looked compared to the last time Ford saw him. 

“Y’KNOW WHAT, I’M JUST GONNA GO BACK AND GET ANOTHER ONE THAT’S ALREADY LOADED.” They heard Bill whine, followed by the zap of the time tape being used.

McGucket moaned again at the sound of Bill’s voice, shutting his eyes tightly and clutching his head. That seemed to snap Ford out of his shock, and he reached down and scooped the old inventor into his arms.

“Let’s get out of here.” He told Mabel.

Just as they ran out the door, Bill reappeared in front of them with another cannon.

“UH-UH-UH! FOUR-EYES ISN’T GOING ANYWHERE UNTIL I GET WHAT I WANT, SIXER!”

“Just keep running!” Ford shouted to Mabel. They picked up the pace and just barely got out of the way in time to avoid the cannonball that ripped through McGucket’s shelter.

“Dudes, over here!” Soos called to them, where he was trying to finish reloading the other cannon Bill had abandoned after less than a minute of trying. “We can fight cannon with cannon!”

“There’s no time!” Ford barked. “We need to either get out of here or find cover!”

“Cover, huh?” Soos said thoughtfully, scratching his chin, until an idea popped into his head. “Oh! You’ve seen that old timey video of the dude who takes a cannonball to the stomach and it just bounces off of him? I’ve always wanted to try that!”

Ford and Mabel stared at him for a beat, dumbstruck.

“I say follow your dreams, Soos!” Mabel encouraged him.

“Yes, if you believe you’re capable, I see no reason not to give it a shot.” Ford agreed.

When Bill reappeared with another cannon, Soos stood squarely in front of it while Ford and Mabel made a run for the truck.

“OH, THIS OUGHTA BE GOOD!” Bill smirked as he fired.

Soos braced himself just as the cannonball collided with his stomach. While the iron ball did bounce off his gut and drop to the ground, Soos was also thrown back almost three feet. He landed on his back but the wind was already knocked out of him. As soon as he could move again, he rolled over and threw up.

“Ohhoho… dude…” the handyman muttered. “I knew that was probably gonna hurt, but it still hurt way worse than I was expecting. Ugh, I think I might’ve cracked a rib.”

No answer. Not even a mocking remark from Bill.

“Dudes?” He slowly got up to his feet and looked around. Ford and Mabel had run away, and Bill had chased after them. Oh well, at least Soos had bought them some time. He reached into his pocket to call his abuelita for a ride home, but alongside his phone, he felt another object. His truck keys. “Uh-oh.”

* * *

Despite Soos’s best efforts, Bill was still hot on their tail. Fiddleford squirmed weakly in Ford’s arms as they passed another mountain of garbage. His eyes seemed to briefly focus on Ford, but they looked far, far away.

“I’m jus’ barely gettin’ my mind back now, I don’t wanna lose it again...” The old inventor murmured feebly before resuming his catatonic state. It felt like someone had just stabbed Ford in the heart with an icy dagger, and he picked up the pace.

The sign above the dump’s exit soon came into view, but there were still several more piles of junk between here and there. As they fled, Mabel turned and fired her grappling hook at an old kitchen sink sticking half-way out the bottom of one of the larger junk piles behind them. The hook caught on the faucet and Mabel yanked back on the line hard, dislodging the kitchen sink and collapsing the garbage mountain in a landslide. 

“Let’s see Bill blast his way through that!” She cheered.

Ford knew it was too soon to relax. As long as Bill was possessing this time travel agent, he had access to any weapon in human history, or humankind’s future, for that matter. Although, come to think of it, why hadn’t Bill used a weapon from the future on them yet? Perhaps that would draw the attention of the Time Paradox Avoidment Enforcement Squadron?

“There’s the truck!” Mabel exclaimed, bringing Ford out of his speculations. They skidded to a stop as they finally reached the vehicle and Ford tried to open the door.

It was locked.

Soos still had the keys.

Ford swore under his breath as he searched for something to pry the door open with. Yes, he could break into the truck, and yes, he could hotwire it, but that all took time! Time they didn’t have!

He was expecting Bill to step out of the dump any second now, but he didn’t appear. Instead, what at first glance appeared to be a flock of ravens rose out of the nearby woods. At the same time, Fiddleford thrashed in his arms and began to yell incoherently. Stanford tried to lay him in the back of the truck gently, so he wouldn’t drop him. The old researcher’s blood ran cold. It sounded almost identical to the gibberish his friend had spouted immediately after the failed first portal test. 

As the mysterious flock drew near, Ford began searching for a rock, a golf club, anything he could use to break open the truck’s windows and get inside, all while keeping a close eye on the approaching swarm. As they came closer, he could see they weren’t birds, they were bats! But why would a swarm of bats take flight in the middle of the day? They were close enough to start blocking out the sun when Ford realized they weren’t bats. They were Eye-bats!

He pulled out his blaster and started firing into the swarm. “Mabel, find something to break into the truck with!”

She nodded and took a step back towards the dump, when Bill finally made his leisurely way to the exit. Ford couldn’t help but notice that Fiddleford’s cries stopped almost as soon as the possessed time traveler appeared.

“YOU FLESH-SACKS AREN’T GOING ANYWHERE!” Bill crowed. “NOT UNTIL I GET THAT RIFT! AFTER THAT, I HONESTLY COULDN’T CARE LESS.”

Just as Bill took another menacing step towards Mabel, Soos appeared, sledding down a trash mountain on a car door. He crashed into Bill and kept going until colliding into the side of his truck.

“Uh… I got the keys.” The handyman said in a daze, holding them up triumphantly.

Ford grabbed the keys and helped him up and into the shotgun seat. “I think I’d better drive.”

“Thanks dude, I appreciate it.” Soos said with a chuckle, then clutched his stomach. “Ooof, ugh, that’s… that’s definitely bruised.”

The truck zoomed away just as Bill rushed for the truck bed where Fiddleford was still laying. The swarm of Eye-bats descended on them, and Ford rolled down his window, steering with one hand and firing his blaster into the flock with the other. He knew it wasn’t exactly the safest position for his friend to be in, nearly unconscious in the bed of a speeding, reckless pickup truck, but he couldn’t exactly pull over and buckle him in next to Mabel. Not if they didn’t want to be overtaken by Eye-bats. The old researcher just had to hope that his old friend would be able to hold out until they reached the shield spell.

* * *

Stan was just sitting and watching tv like this was a perfectly normal day. Dipper wondered how he could possibly do it, just push all the danger and worry aside and vegg out like that. Sure, Stan wasn’t really invested in McGucket’s safety, but he had to care what might happen to Mabel, Ford, and Soos, right? 

Of course, Dipper had known Stan long enough that he knew the old conman tended to express his emotions in a weird way. He teased and noogied to show affection, loaded on chores instead of compliments, and lied to the people he loved to try and keep them safe. Not to mention he’d spent the last thirty years trying to bring his lost brother home with an incredibly dangerous machine, while also pretending everything was normal. Maybe Stan was just really good at ignoring danger and worry by this point. And wow, that was a depressing thought. 

Dipper kept vigilant watch out the front window, searching for any suspicious activity while also waiting anxiously for the return of Soos’s truck. He’d been sitting there for maybe fifteen minutes when the phone rang. It rang two more times, and Stan made no move to answer it. Dipper was unwilling to leave his post himself, but Stan was just watching old reruns of Baby Fights!

“Uh, Grunkle Stan?” Dipper called out after the fourth ring. Maybe he’d turned down his hearing aide?

“I hear it kid.” Stan grunted.

“Well, aren’t you going to get it!?”

“It’s probably just that triangular jerk, tryin’ to distract us. And if not, whoever it is can just leave a message.”

“But what if it’s Mabel or Soos?”

Dipper was distracted from his complaining when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. A car was coming down the dirt road towards the Mystery Shack. The boy seriously doubted the rescue mission would be back already.

Stan got up with a grunt from his chair to see what had caught Dipper’s attention. “There, see? What’d I tell ya? Wouldn’t’ve noticed whoever this yahoo is if you’d been trying to listen in on me while I was on the phone. When you know somebody’s after ya, you gotta keep distractions to a minimum.”

“You were just watching TV!” the boy gestured back to the flickering CRT.

“Eh, it’s a rerun, I’m not really payin’ attention to it, just need something to calm my nerves.”

The mystery car drove out of the trees. It wasn’t a car at all, it was a limo. One Dipper recognized from the Northwest’s fleet.

“Well, this ain’t gonna be good.” Stan grimace.

“M-maybe it’s just Pacifica coming to ask for help again?” The boy said hopefully, although his heart wasn’t really in it.

Sure enough, the Northwest stepping out of the limo was Preston. He looked around like everything about the Shack was a personal insult to him before stepping up to the door and knocking with a gloved hand.

Stan grabbed the taxidermied fake dodo sitting on a small table in the corner and reached under its wing, pulling out a small handgun, which he held behind his back as he opened the door. Dipper wasn’t quite sure how to feel about the fact that his uncle was answering the door with a loaded gun in his hand. Sure, they were all in danger from Bill at the moment, but he really didn’t want Stan to go to jail for shooting one of the most important people in Gravity Falls, even if Preston probably deserved it.

“Whaddya want?” Stan asked gruffly.

Preston’s small, forced smile seemed painful. “Aheh, yes, well, I suppose I’ll get right to the point then. I’m here to purchase your… I suppose this qualifies as a business on some level? My opening offer is two million dollars for the building and the land it occupies.”

“Hah! Yeah, right!” Stan barked. “I wouldn’t sell this place to a scumbag like you for twenty million!”

“Well, how about fifty million?” Preston asked coolly.

Stan froze, his eyes wide. He stared the billionaire down, trying to decide if he was bluffing. It sure didn’t seem like a bluff to Dipper. The boy knew the Northwests threw that kind of money around like it was nothing, because to them, it was.

“Not for a hundred million.” Stan said, although it was less of a defiant denial and more of a fishing offer, trying to gauge how high Preston was willing to go.

“How about a hundred and fifty million?” Preston offered.

“Higher.” Stan shook his head.

“Grunkle Stan!?” Dipper cried indignantly.

“Ah-ah!” Stan pushed him back without even turning to look. “Not now kid, the grownups are talking.”

“Two hundred million?” Preston asked, his cool smile starting to slip.

Stan shook his head. “Uh-uh. Higher.”

“Three hundred million?” Mr. Northwest ventured again through clenched teeth.

“Higher!”

“F-five hundred million?” 

“I’m thinking twice that much.”

“Seriously!?” Preston finally exploded. “You want a billion dollars for this--this hovel!?”

“Y’know what, you’re right.” Stan shook his head. “I’m not askin’ enough. Two billion!”

The Northwest patriarch looked like he very much wanted to strangle Stan.

“C’mon Northwest, I know you’re good for it!” Stan smirked.

“Absolutely not! Seven hundred and fifty million, and that’s my final offer!”

“Welp, my final offer’s still two billion, so you can either pony up or get off my porch.”

“....Fine.” Preston hissed, the veins in his forehead popping.

Stan stuck out his hand for Preston to shake, but as soon as the billionaire reached for it, the conman yanked it away.

“Psych!” Stan chortled. “Hah! I just wanted to see how far I could go before you chickened out! You couldn’t give me your whole dirty fortune for this place!”

It took Preston a moment to regain his composure. “I beg you to reconsider, Mr. Pines.” He said with a dangerous edge to his voice. “Take it from someone in the real estate business, property can lose value so quickly.”

“Yeah, the answer’s still no.” Stan said flatly. “Now get outta here. Don’t think I won’t call the cops!”

“I’m afraid you’ll find they’re busy at the moment. I just made a rather large donation so they’re holding a banquet. Even if you could pry them away from it, I doubt they’d be willing to arrest the man that just doubled their salary.”

“Oh, well, if you’re so sure the cops won’t be coming.” Stan pulled the gun out from behind his back.

Mr. Northwest finally backed off, although he shared a long glare with Stan before getting back into his limo. “This isn’t over, Pines!”

“Tell it to someone who cares!” Stan shouted after him.

Dipper looked up at his uncle with awe as he shut the door. “Grunkle Stan, that was awesome!”

Stan rolled his eyes. “Yeah yeah, don’t think I didn’t notice you actually thought I was gonna take his offer.”

Dipper blushed and laughed sheepishly.

The old conman sighed as he sat back down in his recliner. “Eh, guess I can’t blame you. I was actually tempted for half a second. Then I remembered that guy’s a lying cheating crook, and he wasn’t gonna actually pay anything for this place. Still, two billion dollars, wouldn’t that be somethin’!”

“Grunkle Stan, no amount of money is worth the end of the world as we know it.” Dipper reminded him sharply.

“I know that!” Stan retorted, insulted. “I’m just sayin’, if I’d been able to trick him outta that much, heh, that would’ve been the con of a lifetime.”

“I-I’m sorry,” Dipper stammered, taking up his watch at the window again. “I shouldn’t doubt you. I’m just… I’m just really worried, y’know. Bill’s using more and more people to try and get at the rift. The Northwests are the most powerful people in town. You got him to leave for now, but he’s probably gonna hire thugs or something.”

“I know you’re worried, kid.” Stan said sadly. “I wish you didn’t have to worry about all this junk, but at the very least, you don’t gotta worry about this. I’ve had to hole up against hired thugs in this Shack before. ‘Course, this time I’m not gonna be able to fake my death to get ‘em to give up and go home.”

Dipper grimaced. This conversation wasn’t really reassuring him. 

Stan sighed again. “Look, bud, I know Bill’s got a lot of people in his pocket, but time’s on our side, right? Eventually, that glue you found is gonna set, and then what’s he gonna do? Besides, you and your sister are going home next weekend anyway, and then you won’t have to worry about a thing.”

Dipper turned to look back at his uncle. “I’ll still worry about you. And Ford. And everyone else left here in Gravity Falls.”

Stan felt his heart swell when he realized how much the boy cared about him. It didn’t matter if he was safe, if his family was still in danger. Stan was all too familiar with that feeling, and he didn’t like the thought of this twelve-year-old kid being burdened with it.

“Well then, we’re just gonna have to figure something out then, aren’t we?”

[onethrills]

( KIM HYUNA. CIS FEMALE. ) Everyone in Vivian’s pack knows of ( CHUNHWA “CHERRY” MIN, ) one of her loyal Leechers. ( SHE ) is a ( 27 / 180-220 ) year old lycan known amongst their packmates for being ( ELOQUENT, OUTGOING ) but also quite ( HARDHEADED, VOLATILE. ) They’re known for being the ( DOYEN. ) Though they are technically disbanded, they are still dedicated to their cause.

HISTORY / BACKGROUND

For most people (including but not exclusive to Vivian), Min Chunhwa seemed to pop up out of absolutely nowhere. There’s something almost whimsical about her, from the way that she moves to the impish smile on her face at any given moment. Like any creature born and bred for greatness, she’s had her path paved with so much chaos that she can’t even keep track of it herself! Or so she says when she vaguely discloses her age, offering a range within a near forty year span that she would rather forget than she ever would recall. Of course, she remembers which day she was born — she could hardly follow the recent astrology trends if she didn’t, now could she?

Despite her claims, Cherry still remembers the time that she spent in her seaside home in southern South Korea, and she’ll often think back on them when she’s feeling nostalgic, typically with a clarity that she does not recall her recent years. For the first eight of her life, she was happy, or at least as close to happy as she’s ever been since then. She lived with her family. Her parents, her younger sibling… And they were good. Truly good. Probably the only people she could ever call that, or ever would for that matter.

And they were lycans.

That’s part of the reason she doesn’t recall the years following, if not the majority of it. For a long time, they lived alone, completely undisturbed by humans or other lycans alike. It was a solitary existence, but a decent one nonetheless, where everyone did their part and there was a part for everyone to play. As the oldest of the two children, Chunhwa knew hers, and she took it as seriously as her father used to take the sea (which was very seriously indeed). She was a good sister, and she was a good daughter; there was no reason for what happened to them or what happened to her, but nonetheless, it happened.

Humans moved into their territory. At first it wasn’t many, but as time passed, they grew more… densely populated. This spans through years eight to twelve of her life, and what she remembers of this time isn’t quite as happy as it used to be. Her parents became more and more paranoid, secluding their family from the dangers of humans, but unfortunately this had the opposite affect to what they were intending.

The more they pulled away, the more suspicious their new neighbors became, especially about animals attacks happening in the area around them. It wasn’t long before they turned their suspicion and ire on them, and they came out the other side a village mob down courtesy of Chunhwa’s parents, which was nothing, in her opinion, compared to what they lost in turn.

Freedom didn’t exist anymore after that. Home didn’t exist anymore. Word spread to the wrong people, and soldiers were sent to comb through the area around their “village” before they could get far enough away to be in any way called safe. It was a cold night in the middle of winter when they finally found where they were holed up, and Chunhwa can remember her little sister screaming for their mother. Then her memory goes blank. Or so she says.

Years she spent in captivity aside, when she winks back into existence about one hundred and eighty years ago, she knows how to defend herself. She had to learn not just out of necessity for the person who “kept” her, but out of necessity for staying alive. Things are different now. There are no warm smiles, no curtains in the wind, no salty smell of the sea. No parents. No sister. Nobody. Just her and her thoughts, just her and her violence, just her and her anger, her rage, her displaced emotions. She heads west, and she doesn’t look back at the carnage she leaves behind in her wake.

———

Cherry meets Vivian on year forty of her recollection. They don’t really get along at first, but they band together nonetheless, caught up in a mutually beneficial ally-ship that sows Chunhwa’s loyalties for the next hundred years or more. She attributes her own ascent from a carnal creature of bloodshed and anger to the other lycan, and she has some fondness for the honing of her skills as well, giving her a purpose for her life that was not pain and violence. Fighting the vampires, after all, makes more sense than reckless abandon and not caring who she hurts or what happens to them.

Since the treaty, she has spent most of her time milling about the city, not knowing what to do with herself. The Leechers being “disbanded” leaves her high and dry, and without the sense of purpose that she had found previously. She tries to fill in the void with anything she possibly can. The void of her violence. The void of death. The void of the first forty years of her life. She doesn’t really know what to do with any of it, so she turns to drugs. They don’t work the same way on her as they do on humans, but they do work, and that’s enough for a while. Sex, too. Sex is enough.

For a while.

When she starts studying music production, she remembers the first eight years again. She remembers her father singing to the sea, to his daughters, to his wife. Sometimes she writes his melodies into her songs. Sometimes it even feels like her new purpose, but those times are less frequent.

———-

Chunhwa is emotionally volatile and over-the-top. There’s a certain stubbornness to her that comes with her age, an unchanging sort of firm hardheadedness that can’t quite be shaken despite her obvious ability to adapt to her surroundings, to change with the times. In order to suppress her emotions, she uses any number of different coping mechanisms, a wide array that are both good and very, very bad for her. Whatever keeps her from sinking back into the way she was before she met Vivian is what she aims for, even if none of it seems to work the way that she desperately needs it to.

Given the opportunity, she succumbs to carnal pleasures like she used to succumb to her own anger. She’s hedonistic and loud, outgoing and overwhelmed as much as she is overwhelming. She doesn’t care who falls into her bed anymore, whether they be lycan, leech, or human, and there’s a fluidity in her movements and the capricious way she flits from fascination to fascination that can’t be attested to fifteen years ago.

GENERAL OVERVIEW

FULL NAME: min chunwha. STAGE NAME: cherry. AGE: twenty-seven years old / somewhere between 180 and 220. DOB: novermber 5th. STAR SIGN: scorpio. SPOKEN LANGUAGES: norwegian, swedish, korean, english, mandarin, french. RELIGION: buddhist, but non-practicing. GENDER: cis female. PRONOUNS: she/her/hers. ORIENTATION: bisexual. ORIGINALLY FROM: a nondescript, now non-existent seaside “village” in what is now modern day south korea’s suncheon. CURRENTLY: new york city, new york. OCCUPATION: dj/music producer. PERSONALITY TYPE: estp. ALIGNMENT: chaotic good.

[happyimagines]

Teenage Mutant Spider-Kid (Reader x Peter Parker/Spider-Man) [Pt. 1(?)]

I’ve been in love with Spider-Man for as long as I can remember and I didn’t realize there was a whole world of imagines and one shots based on the love of my life.

So here’s a fem reader insert in which the reader is a spiderling but she is a mutant born with her powers (pretty much all the same with her own quirk, and she produces her own webs, and doesn’t need the shooters like Peter does). I was thinking that the reader is a vigilante by night and tries to keep a low profile so people don’t know about her vigilante identity. She does this because she had a sheltered childhood (due to being a mutant) and had lots of time to play with computers, thus becoming a decorated hacker and being able to hack into cameras of the areas she works in. The reader’s secrecy gets blown when Spidey and her meet each other to save the same person. Then it turns out they go to the same school…

I think that’s enough background/introduction for the start… Onwards, friends!

Fair warning: I like to write long ones, so strap in and have your popcorn ready. This one will probably be a series if it gets received well or people request so. ^.^

–sgt-pineyapple

Word count: 3,140

Warnings: Just some minuscule cussing, also I figured with the character being so sheltered most of her life, she has trouble socializing and has social anxiety

For most people, soaring around New York would be fun and invigorating. But most people weren’t like you; you did this almost nightly, and just weren’t feeling it tonight. You’d been patrolling the streets from above ever since you moved there over the summer. But no one knew of your presence in New York thanks to your hacking skills and being overshadowed by Spider-Man. You also usually took smaller crimes unlike the ones that your counterpart normally dealt with.

After hearing about Spider-Man, you begged your parents to let you do the same. You were what everyone called a mutant; born with unimaginable abilities due to a mutation in your DNA. This mutation actually gave you abilities just like Spider-Man and you wanted to meet him so much. You’d never met any other mutants that were like you, and you wanted to talk to someone about it. Being a teenage mutant was rough, especially if you’d been home schooled most of your life and you were just started public school for the first time. And not just any school, it was high school.

You pulled out a squished granola bar from your pocket, pulled the bottom of your mask up to reveal your mouth, and start nervously nibbling on your snack. After months of constantly bothering your parents, you finally convinced them to let you start public school and the lot of you moved from the middle of nowhere to the Big Apple.

The first month of school had gone okay, considering you were socially inept. Pretty much all the acquaintances you’d made were all because they approached you. That and your parents encouraged you to join the computer science club. It was going pretty good…

Your thoughts were interrupted by a beeping and vibrating from the smart watch on your wrist. Shortly after you’d heard about the Spider-Man, you had tapped into the police scanners and did some programming for it to notify you when key words or phrases were said over their radios.

“Armed robbery…” you scrunched up the granola bar wrapper and stuffed it into the pocket of your suit.

Mom would kill me.

Even though you snuck out every night against your parents’ wishes, you told yourself that you wouldn’t take any job that would put yourself in terrible danger. “Ehhhh…” You winced at the thought of your parents’ faces if you came home with tons of bruises or scratches, but you’d been doing nothing but stopping petty muggings and shoplifts. Nothing this exciting had happened since you started sneaking out.

You pulled your mask back into place and leaped from the top of the building you were perched on. You free fell for a few moments, closing your eyes and taking in the feeling of freedom, then shot a web to a building ahead to start your journey to the crime scene.

Another buzz from your smart watch; the suspects were fleeing on foot through the maze of alleyways just a couple blocks away from the victim convenience store. You were worried about being spotted by the cops while in the air, so you landed on the top of an apartment building and started sprinting and vaulting along the rooftops.

Not long after you landed, you spotted the perpetrators skulking in the alley you just jumped over. You quickly booted up a program on your watch that hones in on your location and disables any cameras within a block of where you are. With that, you start crawling in the darkness of the alley walls, with your black suit to help you blend into the night.

“I think… we lost ‘em, man.” One of the two men panted and slid down the wall to hide behind a dumpster. The other wasn’t so sure; he kept looking behind his back and across to the other end of the alley, which was blocked off by a high fence with a locked gate.

“I don’t know… we could get lucky and miss a visit from the Spider-Man, but our luck ain’t that great…” He kept looking over his shoulder and leaned against the wall opposite of his partner. You were wondering whether you should surprise them by landing in between them or webbing their stolen goods.

Before you could decide, another figure swooped in and landed on the open end of the alley, cutting off their only means of escape. You stared in awe, because it was him; the Spider-Man you’d admired for so long was standing right in front of you and he didn’t see you. You skulked along the wall towards the gated end and waited.

“Hello fellas! Whatcha got there?” He stretched his neck to get a look at what the men had stolen.

“It’s the Bug Man!” One of them pointed was starting to scramble up to his feet.

“It’s actually Spider-Man, but whatever.” He shrugged. “So, you gonna share some of that with me or…?” The men tried to make their escape to the fence, but you jumped from the wall and forced yourself between the two of them and their exit. “Who–?” Spider-Man started, but then refocused on the criminals as both of them held up a gun at each of you.

They smirked confidently, but just as soon as they’d gotten the guns out you and Spider-Man disarmed them with your webs. They growled in frustration, but attempted to lunge towards the two of you. Before he could even think about how to hurt you, you swung your leg around and he fell with a thud on his back. Before he could say “ow” you tied him up with your webs and hung him from an overhead fire escape. You held up your wrist to check the time.

You were making good time, if you didn’t leave soon the cops would probably be here, and you didn’t want them to know you existed. You shot a web to the roof of the building next to you and was ready to launch yourself up. “Wait!” Spider-Man ran towards you. “Who are you?!” You hesitated and gripped the web tighter in your hands.

“You have to promise not to tell anyone about me.” You tugged on the web and launched yourself to the roof. You heard him try to chase after you, but you were faster, and already around the corner before he could even get out of that alley. While you were swinging back to your home, you were running what just happened through your head.

It happened so fast–just as you’d originally hoped–but you wanted to be able to talk with him more. You’d been dreaming of that moment for so long, but your need to keep your existence a secret had outweighed your want to meet your idol. If any news of your vigilante identity was learned by the general public, then your parents would immediately know it was you.

You looked down at the time again: 2:09 am it glowed, and you decided to turn in early. Tomorrow was Monday, and you didn’t want to start the week any grumpier than you needed to be.

You swung to your room’s window and crept in as quietly as you could, stripping the suit off, trading it for your pajamas, and hiding it under your mattress. You set your smart watch in a drawer in your desk and hopped into bed.

I still can’t believe I met Spider-Man today… You closed your eyes and slowly drifted into slumber.

Y/N… Y/N…

You grumbled and covered your face with your covers. Suddenly, said covers were torn from your body and you were exposed to the coldness of your bedroom. You curled up to keep the heat in.

“Y/N, you’re going to be late! Get up!” You mother shook you awake. You glanced over at your alarm clock with glazed eyes and tried to focus them onto the numbers. 7:15 am You cursed loudly, and shot out of bed as if you hadn’t stayed up late the night before. You threw on a random graphic tee, some jeans, your Converse, and stuffed all your homework that was on your desk into your backpack. You quickly brushed your teeth, rinsed with some mouthwash (almost swallowing it in your haste), grabbed your glasses and went for the door. “Don’t forget your gloves!” Your mom reminded, and you ran back to your room to find them on your desk.

 “What about breakfast?” Your dad said behind his phone. You tore through the pantry frantically, looking for the granola bars. You snatched one, held it up, and ran out the door. “Have a nice day! Love you!” Your mom managed to get out as fast as she could before you tore down the stairs.

Midtown High was far enough away that you needed to take the morning bus to get there. “Shit shit shit….” You muttered as you were waiting at the bus stop, tapping your foot impatiently. You looked at the time again–7:30 am. Even though you got ready at super speed (which wasn’t an ability you had), there was no way you’d make it to school on time. The only way you’d make it was if… 

No. You can’t. You scolded yourself silently for even thinking about it. Even if it were faster to travel by web, you wouldn’t dare show yourself in broad daylight. Your bus finally arrived and you hopped on as quickly as you could, trying to stay calm while sitting as close to the exit as possible. Looking at the time, you knew for sure you’d be late, so you pulled up Facebook Messenger on your phone and sent one of your classmates a text.

Hey, I’m gonna be hella late for class. Could you let Mr. Bradly know for me?

Send. The bus departed, and you kept checking your phone every 2 seconds for a reply. Your phone buzzed and checked the reply.

I got you, girl. 👍

Though it wasn’t much, your anxiety subsided slightly. Your stop was coming up, and before the bus was even close to stopping you were up and ready to bolt once those doors were open.

You ran across the street and down the block to reach the entrance of Midtown High. It was a pretty grand and nice high school, but then again, you haven’t seen many high schools. You rushed into the office and checked in, then sped-walked to your classroom on the other side of the building.

It was terrifying to walk into the class as the teacher was talking. Most of the people looked back at you when they heard the door open and stared at you as you quietly made your way to your assigned (but not assigned) seat. As you were getting your things out of your backpack, you were hoping and praying that your teacher wouldn’t stop his lecture to ridicule you, especially in front of the whole class.

He simply acknowledged your entrance with a glance and continued with what he was talking about. Thank GOD. You screamed in your head. You took a deep breath and let out the quietest sigh you could, as you finally had the chance to relax after rushing to get there. What a great way to start the week. You mentally rolled your eyes and paid attention to what was going on in class.

It wasn’t until after first period that you realized you’d forgotten to put on your gloves. Unlike Spider-Man, you had an additional ability to poison people with just a touch from your fingertips. You had learned to control it for the most part, but you and your parents were still unsure about it so you always wore gloves. You didn’t want to possibly kill some poor teenager or stranger on the street. You were lucky that you didn’t touch anyone on the way from the bus stop. Once they were on, you felt much more relaxed and headed towards one of your favorite classes: Algebra.

Most of your peers either hated, or were indifferent about the subject, but you loved it. Unlike literature, math was a language that made sense to you. You should’ve been taking Calculus, but it would cause credit issues and scheduling problems so you just took the advanced math offered to sophomores at Midtown. It was one of the easiest classes for you, and it wasn’t long until your teacher asked you to be a tutor, and not only for Algebra, but up into Calculus as well.

There was only one other student as young as you, and it was some kid genius named Peter Parker. You’d never met him since you started school, but he was pretty famous amongst your nerd circle. Everyone in that group was very intelligent, but Peter was described to be godly in a way. In all honesty, you wanted to befriend him, but your social skills weren’t the best. You had a lot of classmates you considered close acquaintances but no close friends yet. You were hoping you’d get the gist of things once you settled into Midtown’s student body.

“Hey, Y/N, that’s 

him

.” Someone nodded towards a boy at the other end of the cafeteria with brown hair and brown eyes. He wore a button-up and a sweater over it and fit the whole “genius” character.

“That’s Peter Parker?” You weren’t impressed. Even though he fit the nerd archetype, he just didn’t scream genius to you. But who were you to judge? He even sat by himself; well with his friend which you had a class or two with named Ned. “Why do they sit by themselves?” You asked.

“Ehh, he’s not very social.”

“He’s too damn smart to be sitting with us ‘commoners.’“ One of them smirked.

“He’s probably thinking about how dumb we are compared to him.” Another remarked.

With every stab they made at him, you were getting angrier and angrier. How could they be so cruel to someone they never even talked to? It sounded like a lot of assumptions on their part, and it was pissing you off. You then did something that you’d never wanted to do, and that was shout.

“You’re just jealous!” You spat and then recoiled at the suddenness of your aggression. The tables around you were starting to stare. You immediately regretted the outburst, but kept going. “I-I’m smart too,” you stuttered softer, “but I don’t hear you complaining about me.” A short pause.

“Well, you don’t flaunt it around, Y/N.”

“Yeah!”

“Well, neither does he, but your heads seem to be too far up your asses to notice!” You slammed your hands on the table as you got up and grabbed your backpack and tray.

“Y/N…” one of them muttered, but you were already storming off to an empty table.

Your hands were shaking, and you felt like tears were coming. You’d just ruined any chances of becoming friends with any of them. Your brain started relaying all the worst-case scenarios: they’d never talk to you ever again; they’d sabotage your science projects out of spite; they’d give you hell in computer science club. The list was endless, and your brain was checking off each and everyone of them as a possibility. Not only that, but the people who were around your table would know how angry you’d gotten and probably think you were some jerk.

You were about to get up to dump your food in the trash and seek shelter in the bathroom, but you heard someone sit in a chair across from you. Oh God… please go away… You tried to calm the shaking down in your hands but it wasn’t stopping. There was an awkwardly long pause, and the mysterious person asked, “Hey, um, are you okay?” It was a calm and almost welcoming voice, if that made any sense, and it belonged to a boy.

You shook your head and kept your head facing down on the table and your arms hiding your head from their view. “Do you need to go to the nurse?” Your leg was shaking erratically. What was this feeling? You felt like you were in danger, but nothing was happening…

“I-I’m fine…” Your voice wavered and you tried to take deep breaths.

“Seriously,” he whispered, “if you need me to walk you to the nurse’s office I will.” Not knowing what to do, you nodded and slowly sat up to get a look at the stranger. It was Peter Parker, out of all the people to come to your aid, it was him. Was this some cruel irony? “I can take your tray…” He offered and you nodded, catching a glance at his calm and kind demeanor. You felt like the whole cafeteria was staring at you, so you hoisted your backpack and tried to escape the room as quick as you could. “Wait–” you immediately stop, because there was a familiarity in his voice that sparked a curiosity.

You’d never met Peter before this horrendous encounter, but something about him seemed so familiar. It was a good thing you stopped because he had to gather his things and tell his friend where he was going. After walking out of the cafeteria, you ease up slightly, and let out a huge sigh.

“Um, I’m Peter, by the way. Peter Parker.” 

“I know.” You didn’t even think twice, and realized how rude you sounded. “Sorry, I know of you. I’m Y/N.” You hold out your hand to shake, and he takes it.

“Y/N? Are you one of the math tutors?”

“Um, yeah. I like math…” You look down at the ground. He noticed how uncomfortable it made you, and tried to combat it.

“I only ask because I thought I saw your name on the list recently.” He gave a nervous chuckle and scratched the back of his neck. “So I guess there’s two geniuses in our class now.” He joked and you shrugged.

“I wouldn’t call myself a genius…” You were confident in your intelligence, but never really considered yourself a genius. “I was home schooled and got into computers to pass the time, that’s all.”

“Really? That’s cool, ‘cause that’s a hobby of mine!” His eyes lit up and so did yours for a brief moment. You were going to say something else on the subject, but you looked up at the sign over the door ahead and realized you had made it to your destination.

“Thank you for walking me here, Peter. I really appreciate it.” You bit your lip, a nervous habit of yours, and he smiled.

“No problem, Y/N.” There was a long pause, and you didn’t know what to say or do.

“Um, I’ll see you around.” You opened the door to the nurse’s office and gave a little wave.

“Yeah, I’ll see you around…”