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lilmackiereads · 2 years ago

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Does “The Help” Help? What I learned and review of the book.

In February 2022 when I was sick for a few months due to a chronic illness that led me to lose my job, I decided to pick up The Help (2009) by Kathryn Stockett to pass the time. It had been sitting in my bookshelf for years, unread. I had seen the movie once shortly after it came out in 2011 when I was a teenager, but I couldn’t remember it well. I thought to myself “it’s Black History Month, I should educate myself on what life was like.” Little did I know, two years prior in 2020, many people, mostly privileged white people, thought the same thing. As a white person in their mid 20s from a middle-class urban neighborhood in California, the Black Lives Matter movement was something I felt like I supported but was very distant from because I thought that it didn’t really affect me. Or so I thought at the time. The murders of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and many others were all over the news. I only knew bits and pieces of what had happened, and I thought reading up on Black culture through books, movies, and tv shows would make me an ally.

According to these news articles and reviews, The Help (2011) became the most watched film on Netflix during this major point in the BLM movement as an attempt for white people to educate themselves and become allies. I didn’t realize the harm of thinking this way until reading the book and the aforementioned reviews since the story is written by a white author and has a major white savior storyline. In an attempt to not misquote these articles, I encourage you to read them and check out the media they recommend. However, that doesn’t mean I would skip on The Help altogether as a book or film. It is important to be aware of the issues it presents within the story as well as the media coverage of it because by acknowledging these flaws we can get down to the real nitty-gritty. Then, we can use this knowledge to better present stories that are more truthful and central to the true experiences of Black people.

Overall, here is my review of the book as exactly what it is, a book. Stockett made it clear in her acknowledgments that it is a work of fiction, but her intertwining of fact and fiction and basing characters on herself and her maids can be problematic for readers when trying to tell the difference between what was real and what was made up. I recommend whether you read it or not to fact check and be aware that it is a book written in a different time, place, and race that what it entails. This review is filled with spoilers as it is necessary to discuss certain passages in a critical way.

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As a whole: 3.5 out of 5 stars. See below:

This book took me over a year to read. I finished it in April 2023, fourteen months after I cracked it open. This is very unusual for me as I am a fast reader, but after catching wind of the articles I was ambivalent about continuing the story because I didn’t want to be one of those people who thinks reading this makes me a better person (because it doesn’t).

Let’s start with the basics. I like the cover a lot since it is bright and the three birds are symbolic of Skeeter, Minny, and Aibileen. My favorite type of books are those written in first person since I like how they delve into the person’s stream of consciousness and explore their hopes and troubles. The beginning of the book seemed to drag as it was mainly a description of what Aibileen and Minny do day to day. I believe this was intentional by Stockett to show readers how redundant and tedious a lot of maid’s work was and still is.

I thought the characters were very well developed, however it seemed very obvious that Skeeter was an insert for Stockett. While that was all fine and dandy, it made me concerned as Skeeter’s views toward Black women are a bit wishy washy. Over the story she becomes more “woke,” but never really understands because she leaves for New York after being encouraged to go by Minny and Aibileen. Skeeter does struggle with this decision to leave Mississippi, but it ultimately felt very “Fairy Godmother” to me because she leaves before it gets worse for the black women. I felt the same way when she was gifted a copy of The Help that was signed by all the Black churchgoers as it also felt very white savior-y instead of sweet. I was annoyed when Skeeter considered marrying Stuart and abandoning all the work she had done and being unable to decide if she was advocating for civil rights or not. This systematic racism should have been touched on a bit more because it seems like Skeeter herself (and thus Stockett) doesn’t even understand it. I don’t believe that anyone is born racist, but I think they learn it. Therefore, I think having a chapter from Hilly or Elizabeth’s perspectives would have been helpful to unpack that a little more as they were two of the more racist characters in the story. I loved to hate on Hilly, but I really liked how ditsy and sweet Celia was and how she liked spending time with Minny. I would have liked more content with Lou Anne, who we find out is suicidal and getting sent away for shock treatment. She was one of the few characters who was making her way out of Hilly’s web and seemed to be more inclined to treating her maid as a person instead of scum. I felt up and down about Skeeter’s and Hilly’s mothers. They could be really funny, but also very cold-hearted and stuck in their ways. Skeeter’s mother’s most important moment to me was when she talked about Constantine’s firing and untimely death. This was the most eye-opening moment for Skeeter and should have been a bit more in-depth since it made her face her mother’s flaws.

I really enjoyed the humor and wit of both Aibileen and Minny and liked reading their chapters. I was constantly nervous that they would be caught and punished. Aibileen losing her son and having to say good-bye to Mae Mobley nearly brought me to tears. Meanwhile, Minny’s sharp remarks and specialty pie had me giggling. The contrast between Aibileen and Minny were well done, and I loved seeing Minny’s sympathetic side toward Ms. Celia. The moments with the stillborn in the bathroom and the naked man outside of the house were terrifying. I felt relieved when Minny finally left Leroy and wished she had done it earlier, but at least she and her children got away in the end. It was frustrating that Aibileen only got her writing job because of Skeeter. I would have liked for Aibileen to have not been viewed as a victim so much. Also, I like to think that Aibileen was right about Mae Mobley being an old soul who is going to grow up to be independent and strong and ready to fight. I like to think that she grows up to be a feminist and is out there fighting for civil rights and love. It would make sense for the timeline since she would be in her teens/ 20s throughout the majority of Second Wave Feminism (mid 1960s to 1980s) and the end of the Vietnam War (1955s to 1975) since The Help takes place from 1962 to 1964.

My five favorite parts, in no specific order, are as follows:

*Minny’s Terrible Awful

*The Jackson Junior League Annual Holiday Ball where Celia is getting all the attention in her va-va-voom gown and tears Hilly’s dress and then writing a check to Two-Slice Hilly.

*At that same event when Hilly’s mom bids on Minny’s pie as a joke.

*When Skeeter swaps the charity “coat” drive for a “commode” drive and Hilly’s yard is RUINED.

*When Aibileen tells Mae Mobley about the “Green Martian” Martin Luther King Jr. I think it is a creative way to talk about racism and belonging without being too complicated for a toddler to understand.

Something I would have liked Stockett to touch on a lot more were the imprisonment, murder, and abuse that many Black people faced (and still face) in a more moving way. Many of the Black characters in this story experience at least one of the three, but Stockett always seems to be glossing over how truly dangerous and corrupt societal racism is. For instance, one of the maids, Yule Mae, ends up in prison for stealing an unwanted and forgotten piece of jewelry from Hilly so she can support both her son’s college tuitions. Sending her character to jail keeps her out of the reader’s mind until she is brought up into the storyline again. Yule Mae being easily forgotten shows that this part of the story is not distressing readers enough to critically think about it and make a change even though Black incarceration rates are very high across the United States to this day. Both the murder of Medgar Evers and Martin Luther King Jr’s peaceful protest “March on Washington [D.C.] for Jobs and Freedom” are two very important moments in Black History and I wish she had spent more time discussing how huge turning points they were in American History.

Even though his writing is very different, Cormac McCarthy is a master of Southern Gothic. I think if this novel was written by him, that it would have been much more raw and honest as he was unafraid to get down to the true horrors this world has to possess. (See Outer Dark (1968) where he writes about incest and child murder, No Country for Old Men (2005) with more murder and torture, or The Road (2006) which features cannibalism and kidnapping.) Of course, regardless of whether Stockett or McCarthy wrote this book, it still would have the lens of a white author on it. What readers really need to do is choose more stories that are by Black creators that feature Black stories. A good list is mentioned in the articles linked above.

Overall, I enjoyed reading the story and appreciated how it began with Aibileen and Mae Mobley and ended with them as well, even though it was to part ways. The full circle technique demonstrated a lot of growth, but at the same time showed that both groups have a long road ahead. I would read it again and recommend reading it as long as you read articles on why it is problematic. On that same note, having a discussion about the story with people from lots of backgrounds such as different races, ethnicities, genders, sexes, and nationalities would get lots of fresh perspectives on it. By continuing to dissect and discuss stories such as The Help, we light the way of change by working together.

#the help #the help book #kathryn stockett #book review #critical thinking #systematic racism #black voices #white savior

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unrepentanthistory · 1 year ago

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Trailer Park Wisdom: 11 Life Lessons 🤔

grew up in a trailer park some would have called it the projects and I learned some hard lessons so you didn’t have to. Here are 11 things I learned from growing up in the TP, surrounded daily by crackheads, gangbangers, poverty, and death.

☝Good manners never make a situation worse

If you mess up, all you gotta do is say “My bad” and people will keep it moving a lot of times. But if you don’t even acknowledge that you offended or accidentally bumped into someone, that’s often gonna be your butt.

✌Weakness brings trouble

If people think they can take advantage of you or hurt you, they will. Human nature is screwed up like that. If you’re gonna be kind, you need to be strong, because there are terrible people who will take your kindness for weakness. They will test you

⇶Crackheads are incredible

But only because they’re hooked on crack. Desperation can make a man do physically incredible things I’m mostly exaggerating for comedic effect, but I have seen crackheads jump from a three-story building and live on rotten food. And they are FAST!

🍀Someone always has it tougher

I was on welfare and living in the TP, but at least my mom wasn’t a crackhead. I knew a few kids who got taken my CYS because of shit like this. My mom only went to jail once. But some parents were always in the system.

✋No one cares

Everyone has their own crap to deal with. When you grow up in an environment like this and go to school with people who are more messed up than you—and you’re already messed up—you realize your crap doesn’t matter. No one really cares. Because they can’t.

6 Polarization can nullify a lot of poverty

I never wanted a meal, although we had to rely on school lunch and summer lunch programs. My shoes and clothes were often rough, but I was fed On the flip side, I know kids who had new clothes & games but had to steal to eat.

7. Dealing with trauma is a privilege

Life has always been hard. But when you’re busy surviving, you don’t have time to worry about that. Even if it’s holding you back. A lot of what I witnessed was likely people just trying to survive the best way they knew how to.

8. Poverty is the root of evil

I remember I watched a pizza delivery guy get the shit beat out of him on Christmas Eve all so they could get like 400 dollars and a free pizza.

9. You grow up fast

At age 5, I had a key to let myself in after school

At age 7, I was taking the public bus by myself

At age 11, I had my first job

You have to take care of yourself because the adults in your life let you down in the worst way: they don’t know that they have.

10. Most people are not going to make it

Be lucky you were born where you were and can read this. Most won’t ever see it. Most won’t even know they can do better. If all you know is what you know from birth, then is it really your fault you end up repeating “generational curses”?

11. No one is coming to save you

I watch my mom sell forties and weed to keep us from getting evicted I also watched my mom get arrested. That’s when I realized I was gonna have to take care of myself I had to save myself. Maybe I learned it too early, but most learn it too late

If you’ve got a decent family situation, be grateful. You won. You’re so far ahead of the game that you can actually backtrack and still be ahead of where people like me start.

Thank you for reading this article. I hope you enjoyed it and learned something new. If you want to see more of my work, please follow me on Instagram @unrepentantmasculinity, where I share photos and stories from my travels and adventures. And if you appreciate my journalism and want to support me, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi. Your donation will help me keep writing and exploring the world. Just click on the link below and choose how much you want to give. Thank you for your generosity and kindness. Until next time, stay curious and informed.

#life lessons #personal #personal growth #amazing facts #facts #fun facts #history #random facts #trailer park trash #trailer park boys

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crabs-but-better · 2 years ago

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every time i’ve sat down to write a memoir of some sort i can’t because it’s just So Much. I do have a few stories in mind tho that i would definitely include (this post is mostly for me to come back to at some point) but uh. if you’re interested in my over sharing specifically on the topic of overly verse-like reflections detailing the journey i took to get to where i am now then read under the cut i guess (tw suicidal ideation)

“I haven’t seen my own chest in over two years. The mirror in my room has a towel over it and the bathroom fan stays in a permanent state of disuse in hopes that the steam will cover the body I don’t dare look at.”

“In third grade, I don’t recall if it was through an article or the news or an offhand comment from my parents, I learned of the existence of some sort of surgery to make you a boy. The next day, I -not even knowing the words that described me- proudly told my classmates that I planned on getting those surgeries. For some reason, the looks I got from nine year olds who we are supposed to be ‘protecting’ from ‘this kind of stuff’ lent me kinder and more understanding looks than my own therapist.”

“My school concert in 5th grade was one of the best I ever had. I showed up wearing a white button down and black jeans, proudly sporting my late grandfather’s favorite tie. When Tyler asked me if I wanted to be a boy, I said, without hesitation, “Yes!” and didn’t hear a single thing after that. They didn’t know that just an hour before, I was on the floor groveling, begging for my parents to let me wear this instead of the sparkly dress we had picked out a week ago.”

“Through some feat of repression, after three years of proudly declaring I was a boy, I simply forgot. I forgot about the surgeries and I forgot about Tyler and I forgot about grandpa’s tie and I lived a middle school life as daddy’s little girl, mommy’s perfect straight A student. I wore those tight striped sweaters and put my hair up in flannel colored scrunchies and wore whatever necklaces were trending at the time. Somehow, none of it felt wrong. Until it did. When I started skipping homework and paragraphs in my favorite book, I cried. It was all wrong. And nobody told me. Nobody told me that I shouldn’t have thrown away my favorite cargo shorts. Nobody let me know that listening to sad songs when you’re sad is a bad idea. Nobody held my hand as I begged myself to put the notebook away and stop writing my will. Nobody noticed when I went to bed six hours early hoping that when I woke up, if I woke up, everything would be right again. I’m sure everyone, instead, was breathing a sigh of relief. A, “thank god that phase is over and my daughter is normal again” prayer. The world was upside down and backwards and somehow I still hadn’t remembered who I was.”

“I don’t think some people realize how freeing it is to finally have an answer to a burning question. My uncertainty sat like bile in my throat. It burnt through my skin, branding me as an outcast. They looked at me, curled up in the corner of the library with whichever book happened to whisk me away from everything, they all looked at me with a revolting pity in their eyes. My forehead read “queer” but the problem was I never looked in the mirror. So when two little non-binary kids joined me in my little corner of despair, they brought with them, cradled in their words of encouragement, my answer. The word hurt at first, like when you finally spit out something you were choking on and it leaves behind the sorest of throats. But eventually it washed over me, soothing my burns down to the very core. There it was, at last. “Transgender”

“Of course, it took a few years for me to grow into it. First it was agender, then it was demigirl, then it was non-binary, then genderfluid, but eventually I hit the nail on the head. I’ve found that umbrella labels are the most freeing, I’m allowed to move within and change over time.

I remember a game I used to play all the time. It was called “Pikmin Adventures”, I believe. It came with the WiiU. They were relatively short levels, but the soundtrack intrigued me. All J remember is that once you reached the end of a level, the once dark and stressful score ended off with a dispersing of all that energy. Cymbals gently crashed and led way for a calm piano melody. I breathed a sigh of relief every time I heard it. After a level, when the little Pikman climbed triumphantly into the spaceship, I always felt a sense of accomplishment. That’s how I feel now. There’s the calming melody in the background and I’m climbing triumphantly into my metaphoric spaceship. I breathe a sigh of relief. I survived the level. I made it through. I’m blasting off! And I know, inevitably, I’ll come to the next level. But just like those funky little Pikman, I’ll make it to the end, I’ll hear those cymbals crash again, and everything will be okay.”

#personal #don’t rb #you can comment if you want but i’ll be surprised if you read the whole thing #save

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writing-blog-iguess · 3 years ago

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Harley Quinn

Summery: The batfamily hears three stories about batmom and Harley. How they met, how they started dating, and how they ended.

Warning: fluff, angst.

A/N: This bish is 4847 words. I did not mean to write that much.

Man, the amount of love I got from Stories...I'm so happy people enjoyed it. So, I hope you enjoy this one just as much.

Feedback is welcome! And feel free to let me know who or what kind of story of Batmom you want to see next.

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There were only two weeks left of summer, and she wanted to move onto campus as soon as possible. But her friend, Selina, had made it a little difficult for her. On the first day the campus was allowing their students to come, Selina had come over and stopped her from packing. And they spent the day together shopping, seeing a movie and eating. Selina ended up crashing at her place after they had binged a show.

When she started packing the next day, Selina did the same. But after a promise of hanging out when she was settled in her dorms, Selina conceded and helped with the packing. And after some whining and pizza, Selina came with her to campus to help as well.

Struggling to keep the heavy box in her hands, she made her way towards her dorm. “You can help me, you know,” she grunted, shifting the box as it was slipping out of her arms.

“I am,” Selina said, holding up a couple of garbage bags full of clothes. “My hands are just full to help you carry your box.”

“You’re funny,” she deadpanned. Selina flashed her a smile, to which she returned one of her own.

“And that’s why you love me.”

“No, no I don’t think that’s it,” she mused, looking at each dorm number. “I think I love your cat more. And that’s why we’re friends.”

Selina gasped mockingly, and bumped her shoulder. “I knew it!” She laughed just as she found her dorm room.

Fishing out her key from her pocket, she handed it to Selina and waited until Selina opened the door. The minute she walked through the door, she was eloped in a hug. It caught her by surprise that she dropped the box she was holding.

“Hiya! I’m your new roommate!”

“And they were roommates,” Dick gasped out, interrupting the story.

“Oh my god, they were roommates,” Tim finished, and three out of the four boys burst out laughing.

“You two are hilarious,” she said, slumping into her chair. They had just finished dinner when the boys started bombarding her with questions about her and Harley. And after teasing them a little about which story. She started with how she met her ex-fiancé.

“Are you two done?” Bruce asked, and the laughter slowly downed a little. Until they caught each other’s eyes, and it started again.

Damian rolled his eyes, and turned to his mother. “I didn’t know you and Selina were in a relationship,” he said, and that had caused Dick, Jason and Tim to stop and look at her.

“No, no we weren’t dating,” she answered, shaking her head. “I didn’t know my sexuatilty until I started dating Harley.”

“And how long did that take?” Jason asked, rolling his cup on the table.

She blew out a puff of air and sighed. “When we were twenty-one. Even then I needed help.”

“I don’t think I’ve heard this one,” Bruce said with a smile. She flushed in embarrassment and looked away before recalling the story.

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“Pumpkin,” her roommate sang from the other side of the room. She hummed, blinking at her homework trying to keep awake. She was currently laying on her stomach with her chin sitting on her hand. “Maybe you should take a break. You’ve been at it for hours.”

“Pft, I’m fine,” she answered, though the words were starting to blur together. “Hey!” she said, as Harley yanked the book from her. “I need that.”

“And you need a break,” she pressed, closing the book with a snap. “Come on Pumpkin, let’s get something to eat.”

She pouted trying to grab her textbook. Harley giggled and held it out of her reach. “Harley,” she whined, “the test I'm studying for is supposed to cost half of my grade.”

“You should know that taking care of your body is more important than school, doctor,” Harley teased. She stuck her tongue out, causing Harley to poke it. “Come on, we’ll go to your favourite café.”

She lit up and quickly got out of bed, almost tripping on her feet doing so. Harley laughed and tossed the book onto the bed. “You gotta be more careful, pumpkin.” She made a face, and grabbed her stuff before the two of them left their apartment.

She looped her arm through Harley’s as they walked. Talking about everything and nothing that came to mind. On occasion, she would check her phone, hoping for any messages from Bruce. But there were none.

She hasn’t spoken to Bruce since the last time they hung out, and she wondered if it was something that she did. Though the thought was ridiculous. They’ve only met up a handful of times since he’d been back. And even then, she couldn’t think of a reason why he was avoiding her.

The only thing she could think of was their first conversation they had together. But that was back when he first arrived in Gotham.

Bruce had found the apartment she was sharing with Harley, and decided to pay her a visit before the tabloids caught wind of him being back.

It had caught her by surprise when Harley called, saying there was a billionaire holding pizza. Confused on what she meant, she rounded the corner to find Bruce Wayne standing in her hallway.

After giving him a hug, and a little catch up, the three of you spent the night hanging out. And it felt like nothing had changed between the two of you.

It wasn’t until Harley had gone to bed, that Bruce told you everything that happened since leaving Gotham when he was fourteen. He told you how his training had gone, and all the people he’s met.

It was one thing reading about them through Bruce’s letters. But it was a different experience hearing them from Bruce. When he had finished, he told her it was time to start fixing Gotham his way.

With a sigh, she had hoped that he had changed his mind. Instead of talking him out of it, she suggested waiting a little bit before doing so. Make Bruce Wayne into a public figure, or more then he already is. And then have his second persona make an appearance. Only so people didn’t connect that the two were related.

That had been two months ago. And sure, she’s been busy with school and midterms were just around the corner, and Bruce was busy running a company and….well, being a playboy from what she’s read in magazines. She didn’t read the articles, it hurt a little reading them.

And he was also busy with being Batman. She laughed at the name the media had dubbed him, it almost made her call him up just to tease him about it. But she refrained from doing so. She was unsure where she fit in his new life, and at this point she was too afraid of the answer to ask.

When they arrived at the café, she found a table for them while Harley ordered.

Harley looked over the rim of the coffee cup in her hand when her friend sighed again. “You’re in love with Bruce!” Harley accused.

She dropped her bagel on her plate and stared at Harley in shock. “I am not!”

“You totally are! You keep checking your phone like your love sick, waiting for someone to call you.”

“I am not in love with Bruce,” she stuttered out, “why would I be? He left to go to school abroad, and shows up eight years later! And so what if I thought about him during those years, and was worried about him. That’s what friends do, they worry about them. It’s not like I noticed how much he’s changed or dream about holding his hand or...or kissing him or…or...” she trailed off as she thought back to all the times her heart hammered in her chest when he smiled at her.

Or all the times Bruce made her blush. She thought back to how she smiled when she saw Bruce’s letter in the mail, or how happy she felt as she read them. Or how relieved she felt when she saw Bruce in her apartment or how hurt she was when she saw him with different girls every night.

Then she thought about all that when she was with Harley. Could she be in love with Harley too? But she quickly dismissed it, thinking it wasn’t possible.

She slumped into her chair as Harley set her mug down, and smirked at her in satisfaction. “Holy hell, I’m in love with Bruce Wayne.”

“There it is,” Harley said, giggling as she received a glare. “You’ve known Bruce since you guys were little, how is it only now that you're realizing this?”

“I don’t…” she trailed off, hands picking up her cup. She twirled it around the table as she tried to come up with the right words, “I’m not...when I can’t pick up the cues when it comes to stuff like that.”

“So someone has to tell you that they love you. Like your parents loving you,” Harley mused, she shrugged.

“I know they do and I can see that they love me. But for whatever reason, when it comes to romantic feelings, I have a blind eye,” she explained, letting the cup go in favour of pulling apart her muffin. She huffed out a laugh. “It’s funny. Back in high school there was this guy who asked me out on a date. But he didn’t use those words, he used ‘wanna hang out?’

“I said yes. It wasn’t until he kissed me that it was starting to click. Even then I didn’t fully understand. Selina told me what it was that I knew. I was so embarrassed I couldn‘t face him. I feel like there’s something wrong with me.”

Harley leaned over and took her hands, she stilled her hands and her eyes flitted up to Harley. And her heart stuttered as Harley looked at her. “Nothing’s wrong with you pumpkin. People process things differently, you just happen to need someone to tell you.”

Relief washed over her and she smiled. “Thanks, Hars.” Harley hummed and leaned back, letting go of her hand. She missed the warmth of Haley’s hands, but didn’t think anything of it, especially when she noticed a twinkle in Harley's eyes.

“So, are you going to tell Brucie?” Harley teased, she made a face and shook her head.

“No, I will not,” she said.

“But he might love you back!” Harley exclaimed, “pumpkin, I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He looks at you like you hung the moon every night.”

“Even if that’s true, I don’t think it’ll work. At least not right now,” she mumbled, and quickly added when Haley gave her a confused look, “he’s not interested in anything serious right now.”

Harley nodded in understanding, and she looked away when she saw pity in Harley's eyes.

That weekend, she found herself in the school library with Harley and Jonathan doing homework. Harley had just left for drinks, leaving the two of them alone.

Jonathan looked up from his homework and studied his friend. She hunched over her books and tapped her pencil on her head as she was going over a question.

“Are you and Harley dating?” Jonathan blurted out. She froze and lifted her head to look at him in surprise.

“Excuse me?” she asked.

Jonathan raised an eyebrow at her reaction, and stifled a laugh. “I think you heard me.”

“Oh I heard. But what made you come to that conclusion?” she clarified, squinting her eyes at him.

“The way you two act around each other,” he explained, “you're all in love and shit. It’s a wonder you haven’t kissed yet.”

“I don’t….but I can’t….” she trailed off. The words weren’t coming and she wasn’t quite sure if she did or not. “Friends can act like that platonically!”

“That’s true. But with you two, it’s hard to tell. You both have heart eyes every time you either talk about each other, or just being in the same room.”

She stayed quiet, she didn’t have anything to say.

“You know, when Harley told me you process feelings differently than most people, I thought she was joking,” he mused, this time chuckling.

“It’s great to know you talk about me,” she deadpanned, setting down her pencil.

“But I’m serious, do you like her or not?” he asked, and she let her head drop on her textbook and groaned.

“I don’t know. The other day, Harley helped me discover I’m in love with my childhood best friend. And now you're making me question my feelings for Harley.”

Jonathan held up his hands in surrender, though she wasn’t paying attention. “Wasn’t my intent, I just figured you needed to know.”

“Thanks,” she said dryly, and lifted her hand and flipped him off. He laughed and gently patted her head.

“I’ll ask a question or two, maybe it’ll help.”

She nodded but kept her head on the table. Jonathan's smile grew wider, enjoying this a little bit too much.

“When you see her, what do you do?”

She took a moment to ponder the question. “My heart starts to beat faster and I can’t help but think how pretty she is. And I get all flustered when she gets really close or she gives me a compliment. And when she’s happy and smiling and laughing, and my butterflies explode in my stomach when that happens because I did that. And sometimes, when she’s pouting or just sad, I just want to pull her into a kiss.”

Jonathan raised an eye at her statement, and had no doubt that she was blushing. “What about Bruce?”

“The same thing! He winks my way and the next thing I know I’m a blushing mess. And when he gives me a certain look, it’s like I gave him everything and I melt and just want to kiss his stupid face! And I hate him for that, but not really and….hhhhh!”

“Damn,” Jonathan huffed out, staring at her. “You have it bad for both of them.”

“But I can’t love two people at once!” she exclaimed, getting shushed by other students. She paid them no mind, head racing on what she should do.

“Who says?” Jonathan asked, and she paused to think about it. “There's no rule saying you have to like one person at the time,” he continued when she didn’t answer. “Now the question is who are you going to pick? Bruce or Harley?”

“What if they both don’t love me?” she whispered, lifting her head up slightly. “What if it’s all in my head and they laugh if I tell them?”

“I don’t know about Bruce, but Harley won’t,” he answered, going back to his homework, “trust me.”

She spent the next week pondering over her conversations with Harley and Jonathan. And there were a few things she’s discovered.

She’s bisexual.

She’s really bad at feelings and seeing them for what they are. Though this wasn’t anything new, still she hated that she needed help when it comes to emotions.

If she did choose Bruce over Harley, it wouldn’t have worked out. Not only because of him being Batman, but because she didn’t see it as a long term relationship. And she didn’t want that.

And if she chose Harley over Bruce, she didn’t want to make Harley feel like she was second pick. She didn’t want that either.

By the weekend, she still doesn’t know what to do.

Sighing, she fell on her bed. She stared at the ceilings and groaned, pressing her palms to her eyes. “Why is this hard?”

“I don’t know pumpkin, maybe I can help?” Harley suggested, startling her. She sat up quickly and turned to see Harley leaning against the doorframe.

“Help me with what?” she asked, nervously laughing. Harley smiled and walked further in the room.

“Whatever you’re having trouble with,” Harley answered.

She sighed and fell onto the bed again, she took a pillow and hugged it to her chest. “I don’t think this is something you can help with,” she mumbled, closing her eyes.

She felt the bed dip, and felt Harley shift around until she stopped. “I could listen to you rant about it?”

She hummed, but shook her head. “It’s something I need to figure out.”

Silence fell around them as she thought. Harley brought her hand over her face and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. She tensed at the sudden touch, but soon relaxed into it.

“Does it have something to do with what you and Jonathan were talking about last week?” Harley asked after a moment.

Her eyes flew open and she stared at Harley, panicking a little. If Harley knew, there’s nothing she could say that wouldn’t be a lie.

“But I…did he tell you?” she asked, Harley nodded. She groaned and stuffed her face into the mattress. “Damnit.”

Harley giggled and slowly moved her face so they could look at each other. “If it helps any, I love you too.”

She flushed, and looked anywhere but Harley. “But I don’t want to make you feel like a second choice. I don’t want you to resent me because you know I love Bruce too.”

“Hey I won’t,” Harley reassured. Biting her lip, she shook her head. Harley sighed, and moved to press her forehead against hers. “Can I tell you a secret? I loved you before I knew you loved Bruce, and I still love you knowing that. I just hope you can give me a chance.”

She studied Harley for a moment before closing the distance and kissed her.

——

“Ew! Mom! Gross! We don’t need to hear about that!” Dick interrupted. She looked up to see her boys looking at her in disgust. Jason and Tim gagged mockingly as Dick shuddered.

“What? It was just a kiss,” she answered, amused.

“Yeah but you kissed Harley. And that means you’ve done more than kissing,” Jason said.

“You knew this when your father told you I was engaged to her.”

“It’s one thing thinking about it, it’s a whole different thing to hear it from you, Mom,” Tim said, leaning back into his chair.

She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Shrugging, she picked up her glass and took a sip.

“So Harley figured out you loved me before you did? And this after meeting me once,” Bruce asked, amused. She felt her cheeks burn and looked away.

“Wasn’t my proudest moment, but yes she did,” she said with a shrug.

“And she was okay with it?”

She nodded, smiling a little at the memory. “Yeah. She didn’t seem to mind too much about it. But I didn’t spend too much time being hung up on Bruce. I was too busy with Har-”

“Ma!” Jason exclaimed, stopping her from finishing the sentence.

“I wasn’t even going to say anything bad!” she defended.

“You went to school with Crane?” Damian asked. She turned her attention to the youngest and nodded.

“We had a few classes together, and Harley just sort of adopted him into the friend group,” she mused.

“What I can’t get over, is the fact that Crane had to tell you about your feelings for Harley,” Dick put out.

“Like I said, I have a hard time deciphering emotions. Especially when it comes to romantic feelings. But once I know, then I’m okay.”

“How long were you together before getting engaged?” Damian asked, though it was still hard to believe his mother had someone before Bruce.

“And who popped the question?”

She looked at the clock and back to the boys. “Doesn't the patrol start soon?” she asked. The boys looked at Bruce with their best puppy eyes. Well, Dick, Jason and Tim did, Damian seemed indifferent but Bruce could tell he wanted to hear the story as well.

“If it’s okay with your mother, we can listen to one more story,” he said, and she raised an eyebrow at her husband. “What?”

“And I thought I couldn’t say no,” she said with a mumble.

“Shut up,” he said, but smiled slightly.

“So Ma, what’s the story?”

Her hand went up to her necklace and started playing with it as she thought back. “We’ve been together for almost eight years before I asked her.”

——

She fell on the couch once she got home from the hospital. It had been a taxing day, and all she wanted to do was curl up with Harley and sleep until the morning. But they had dinner plans they needed to get to, and if everything turned out as planned, she and Harley would be engaged.

Over the years of dating, conversation of marriage would come up. Whether it be just then asking about it, or their friends. They both wanted it, but they silently agreed that they wouldn’t take it seriously until they both finished school.

Harley had already finished her last year of residency, and she was one you last year. Granted, she still had a month left, but she figured it would still count.

“Pumpkin, I’m home,” Harley called as she walked in.

“Living room,” she answered back. A moment later, Harley walked in the room and plopped beside her. Harley laid her head on her lap and sighed as she ran her fingers through her hair. “Tiring day?”

Harley nodded and closed her eyes. “I know we had plans to go out, but can we stay in? Arkham really took me out.”

She scrunched her nose, her hands stopped moving. “I thought you didn’t start there until next week?”

“I did, but something happened with the inmates,” Harley answered.

“And they needed a psychiatrist?”

“Apparently some of the inmates needed help and they couldn’t wait until next week,” Harley said, and sighed happily when she resumed playing with Harley’s hair. “So can we stay in?”

“Yeah, we can. We can order take out and watch a movie or something,” she mused, trying to think of a new plan. “What do you want?”

“Chinese.”

She smiled and reached over, grabbing her phone and ordering food. Once finished, she set the phone before turning back to Harley. She stared at her loving, watching as Harley was slowly falling asleep.

“You’re staring,” Harley mumbled with a smile.

“I can’t help, you’re just too gorgeous to look at anything else,” she teased. Harley blushed and snuggled into her legs.

“Shut up.”

Thinking it’s the perfect time, she went for it. “Marry me?” Harley’s eyes flew open, and she quickly sat down and looked at her.

“What?”

“Marry me,” she repeated, smiling at the bewildered look Harley was giving her. “I know we talked about it a few times. And since I have a month left of residency, I figured why not. So, marry me?”

Harley looked at her for a minute before smiling widely, and threw her arms around her, laughing. ��Of course I will, pumpkin!” Harley said, kissing her all over her face.

And just like that they were engaged.

As the months went by, they planned a wedding. They had decided who was going to be in the wedding party, where the venue would be, and who was going to cater for them. They just needed to book everything, but they weren’t going to do so until they picked out the wedding day.

And for a while everything was perfect. Up until Harley started seeing Joker as a patient. She didn’t see it, not a first. She took it as Harley having bad days or long tiring days at Arkham. And with doctor patient confidentiality, Harley couldn’t talk about their problems.

But Harley could tell her how the day went. If it was bad, she’d drop it and offer to make Harley's favourite foods.

Then Harley started to become distant. She would come home later than normal, and would snap for no reason. She had tried to get Harley to talk to her, but she wouldn’t. She kept saying she was fine and it had been a long day. It was worrying.

All at once, it stopped. Harley stopped talking to her, and stopped coming home.

She was out of her mind, worrying for Harley. She hoped her fiancée would come home. It was to the point that she went out and looked for Harley.

But Bruce had stopped her before she could leave the apartment.

She had found him waiting in her living room after a long shift at the hospital. It had startled her seeing Bruce dressed as Batman standing there, he cowl down.

She was about to greet him, but the sad, pitied expression Bruce had stopped her. “No, don’t…don’t say it. I don’t want to hear it.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, taking a step forward, she stepped back. “But something happened to Harley.”

She shook her head frantically, covering her mouth with her hands. “Nononono, she can’t have…please,” she begged, as Bruce wrapped her into a hug when he was close enough.

“I’m sorry, but Joker got into her head,” he started, tightening his grip as she choked back a sob. “Convinced her that they were meant for each other. Made her fall in the chemicals he fell into. She’s alive, but she isn’t Harley anymore. Not the one you knew anyways.”

She broke down crying before Bruce finished his sentence. She clung to him like a lifeline as the words sunk in.

She expected to hear that Harley died, that someone had killed her. Not this. But this? This was so much worse.

——

A heavy silence fell once she finished. She was clutching the ring that was threaded on a chain. It helped keep the tears at bay. She didn’t want to cry, not now, not after so many years.

“The next day, Bruce told me the full story,” she whispered, and grimaced as the fight flashed before her. “We fought. Okay, I yelled and he just took him. I said some things I shouldn’t have and I avoided him for a while.”

“I remember that,” Dick said, leaning onto the table. “Bruce looked heartbroken during that time. And every time I tried to ask what happened, he shut me down. Even at gala’s when you were there, he looked like he wanted to go and talk to you.”

Bruce looked at him in surprise. Dick was only eight when that happened, he didn’t think he was paying attention.

On the other hand, she felt guilt crawling in her stomach, and slouched into her chair. She hid her face in her hands when Dick continued.

“That falling out thing happened for a few years, didn’t it?” he asked. She opted to stay quiet, letting Bruce answer the question.

“Three or four years, yeah.”

Tim was about to ask what had happened, but Jason nudged him and shook his head. Tim gave him a look, and Jason gestured to their mom, practically saying I don’t think she wants to talk about it.

“Sorry for bringing up the past Ummi,” Damian said softly. “We didn’t know.”

Rubbing her face to get rid of stray tears, she dropped her hands onto the table. “That’s okay sweetie. I wouldn’t have told you anything if it still hurts.”

“So, how’d you fix your friendship with Bruce?” Jason asked. She shook her head and stood.

“Bruce can tell you,” she said, stretching, “I have the night shift tonight. And I need to get ready.”

With that she left her boys staring at Bruce, waiting.

“It’s time for patrol,” he gruffed out and followed his wife. The boys groaned, saying that wasn’t fair.

“Are you okay?” he asked when he reached their bedroom. He leaned against the doorframe, watching her quickly change and grabbed her stuff before pausing. She clutched her keys and sighed.

“Honestly? I don’t know,” she sighed, dropping her shoulders. “After ten years, it still hurts. Not as much as it did, but still.”

Bruce nodded, and pushed off the frame and wrapped his arms around her. Holding her close. “I’m sorry again for everything.”

“You know I don’t blame you anymore, you don’t need to apologize for it.”

“Feels like I have too. You don’t deserve to have gone through that.”

“No one does but life sucks that way,” she said, giving him a smile. “I have to go.”

Bruce frowned, tightening his hold a little. “I wish you didn’t.”

“I’m a doctor Bruce, but I’ll be careful,” she said, reaching up to kiss him. “You be careful too tonight.” He nodded and dropped his arms and watched as she left the room.

“I love you,” he called. She popped her head back in and smiled.

“I love you too.”

Running out of the manor and to her car, she didn’t notice a figure standing in the distance. Harley signed as she watched, glad that her ex-lover found happiness again. And promised she’d do whatever it took to keep it that way.

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gale-gentlepenguin · 4 years ago

Text

ML Fic: Soulmate Survey Part 34

Man these parts are getting harder and harder to churn out. A lot of plot points converging and real life ramping up. Hopefully you all enjoy this. Please comment your thoughts on the chapter. And if you really liked it, Reblog it. Thats the best way to get others to see it. Also, Please let me know your thoughts. Your comments fuel me.

(Master Post)

_____________________________________________________________

Masquerade surveyed the classroom. Her former classmates now her masked servants. It was fitting how they were all silent. Before, they listened to her because she told them exactly the things they wanted to hear, now they listened because she had power over them. It was kind of poetic in a way.

She looked across the classroom, she realized that there seemed to be more people missing than she initially realized.

“We are missing someone. Aside from Marinette, who is missing?”

The controlled classmates looked amongst themselves. Trying to figure out who was the one that was not in the class.

“Is it Chloé?” Miracular inquired, trying to answer her master’s request.

The akuma looked around.

“Huh… Oh yea, she isn’t here. Well she isn’t important. I was thinking someone else.” Masquerade answered. She looked to her most recently made akuma servant.

The Bubbler, the akumatized version of Nino stood motionless. As if he was not registering what was going on.

“Bubbler? Do you know who is missing?”

The multicolored akuma said nothing. Not even looking in the direction of the mask maiden.

“Bubbler! I order you to answer me!” She commanded with fiery rage.

The akuma turned to face his master, now responding.

“Adrien is missing.” The bubbler answered, his voice robotic and as emotive as a speak and spell.

“So, Adrien isn’t in the room. What a shame. I was planning on turning him into my handsome little knight.”

Masquerade thought for a moment.

Has Adrien been akumatized? Lila wasn’t sure she had ever seen or heard about him getting akumatized. She knew that the class had pretty much gotten hit at least once or twice at some point from what she had heard and read from the ladyblog. But if that goody-goody Marinette hadn’t been akumatized, Adrien likely hadn’t been akumatized either.

“Alright my servants! We have a new mission. I want you to lock this school down! No one is allowed in or out. Anyone you find, bring them to me. If they can be akumatized, then they are joining our cause.”

“Time breaker. Guard the perimeter outside of the school. Anyone outside of Ladybug and Chat noir trying to get in. Tag them, but only if they are suspicious of what’s going on. Stay hidden otherwise.”

“Timebreaker nodded and began skating out of the room in a rush.

“Horrificator, once Timebreaker is outside, seal all the exits in the main building.”

The masked monstress nodded and sped out of the room.

“Dark Cupid, Stoneheart, Princess Fragrance, Miracular and Reflekta. I want you to split up check all of the rooms and bring me potential akumas.”

The five akuma nodded and made their way out the door.

“Gamer and Robostus. I want you to hack into the airwaves. I want access to every Electric device in Paris when I give you the signal. But make sure to be subtle. I don’t want anyone to know about us until I tell you.”

The two nod and start working to get that ready for her.

She focuses her attention to the bubble making akuma that was giving her problems earlier.

Considering how hard it was to break him down, it was understandable. She had saved him for last for a reason. Because he was the hardest one to crack.

He was a relatively calm individual, able to keep a level head. But even he had his weakness. His confidence. Once that was shaken, seeing his entire class taken, knowing his girlfriend was under her control, he couldn't resist another moment. In a way, it was the most satisfying charm on her bracelet.

“Now Bubbler, you are going to go and locate Marinette and Adrien for me. Put them in a bubble and bring them to me. Help that girlfriend of yours.”

The bubbler nodded yes despite severe shaking. Seems even now he is trying to resist the control of the mask.

“Troublesome, but it is only temporary. He will break soon enough.” Masquerade mused to herself.

She looked at the near empty room with contempt. This was hardly a place where she could exact her vengeance. It was so… lame. Though a thought occurs as she realized who she had left standing at attention without orders.

“Evillustrator, I have a special request for you.”

________________________________________________________

“What is this?” Chloé screeched. “My daddy bought me the best phone plan in the city. How can I not have service right now?!”

The nurse felt a chill run down her spine. Could the akuma block out phone signals? Is that why there is no attention being given to the school? How could they call for help? How would anyone know of the akuma attack? Would Ladybug and Chat noir be able to help them?

The nurse started to feel herself going pale, she was just supposed to be a school nurse. Worst thing she needed to deal with was a scraped knee or give a kid an ice pack. Now she has a woman that collapsed on the bed and an akuma that is somewhere in the school. She had just moved to Paris a few months ago. It was her dream to live in the city of love, get her career going, find a nice guy, and just live the good life. But no one told her that supervillain attacks would be so personally connected to her situation? She had heard about this crap in New York and in America. But Paris? It was too much. What if Ladybug and Chat noir didn’t fix everything? What if this was where her story ended. What if…

“Hey!”

The nurse turned to her attention to the voice. It was the brash blonde teen that was complaining.

“You look like you’re going to pass out. Just a heads up, I am not taking care of you.” Chloé commented.

Angela felt her face heat up with annoyance.

“Listen you brat. I don’t have time to deal with your attitude. I have a woman that is out cold from exhaustion in a building with a hostile akuma.”

“Good, at least you aren’t going to faint. I don’t need any more whinny women fainting on me”

The nurse paused, did the girl say that just to help her not succumb to the grim situation?

Chloé started making her way to the door.

“Hey, where are you going?”

“You already got your hands full with the annoying assistant. I need to make a call to daddy. So, I am going to head out the building and try there. Try not to get ripped apart by an akuma, I still need more ice when I get back.”

Angela blinked. This girl wasn’t scared of the akuma. She was actually going out to do something reasonable. If she could call for help, it would mean that this whole thing blows over.

“Okay, I’ll stay here. Be safe.”

“Yea whatever.”

Chloé headed out the door.

Angela felt a ghost of a smile grace her face.

‘Maybe that girl isn’t a complete brat after all.’

__________________________________________________

The shapeshifting sentimonster growled as it smacked the locker. It lost both primary targets. And worst of all, Ladybug appeared to make this even harder. Masquerade needed to hear about this.

“Master, Marinette and Adrien have escaped my sight.”

The sentimonster heard a sigh of disappointment from the other end.

“It is fine Simularé, They wont be able to escape the school anyway. They will be found soon enough. If anything, this is a blessing in disguise. Having them be the last targets will have them bare witness to how devasting it will all be.” Masquerade answered. “Any news on Ladybug and Chat noir?”

“That’s the other bad news. Ladybug arrived, I am assuming that’s how Marinette managed to escape, and ladybug also took Adrien away as well. No sign of chat noir. But if you know one is here, the other is likely soon to follow.”

There was a brief moment of silence, as masquerade mulled over the information she had received.

“Actually, that works out well for us. Meet up at my location, I have the other students out looking for them, I need your power for something more important.”

“Yes master.”

Simularé shifted back into its phantom form, moving quickly down the hallway to obey her master’s request.

Just as it left, Ladybug popped out of a nearby locker. Relieved it didn’t notice.

“That’s not good, Masquerade likely got everyone in the classroom.” The red heroine said aloud.

She activated her communicator and tried to contact chat noir. But there was no sound.

“Damn it. No signal. Lila likely cut the communication as soon as she realized it.?”

“No worries Buggaboo, I happen to be on site.” A voice called out.

Chat noir jumped out of another locker to reveal he was there.

Ladybug felt a bit of relief at her partner’s appearance. She could tell he felt the same. Better a situation with two heroes.

“Been here the whole time?” The spotted heroine asked her cat crimefighting comrade.

“Just arrived a few minutes ago, I figured something was up, so I decided to take a quick peek. Cat curiosity and all that.”

“And you assumed it was with Collège Françoise Dupont?”

“It seemed like a solid guess.”

“Considering the track record, that is reasonable.” Ladybug conceded.

“Ever wonder why it is always this school and never any of the other schools? Paris is a big city. You would think Hawkmoth would decide to branch out to the other schools in the city.” Chat noir inquired as they started walking down the hall.

“I assumed its just a coincidence.”

“Shot in the dark, maybe he has a kid that goes here. He is pretty old” Chat noir dissed.

“I can’t imagine anyone that would want to date Hawkmoth.” Ladybug joked.

“What about the blue lady? She seemed crazy enough.”

“And now that image is burned in my mind. Thanks kitty.” Ladybug sarcastically commented. “Despite the mental scarring, I am glad you got here. Seems a repeat offender got herself an upgrade in the akuma powers department.”

“Lila.”

“How did you know?”

“I was reading the ladyblog, Alya did great work on that article.” Chat noir praised. He mentally applauded his quick thinking.

“Right, kind of the reason I felt the need to keep an eye on this place. But sadly, I was too slow.” Ladybug responded a tad gloomy.

“Hey, don’t sweat it. We will finish this akuma before lunch.”

Ladybug heard a footstep from the end of the hallway.

“Get down!”

Ladybug tackled the cat hero down. Just narrowly avoiding a neon pause symbol, which now suck on the wall.

“Looks like Lila has been busy.” Chat noir noted as he turned his face to the direction of the attacker.

Ladybug looked at the akuma. The white mask covering her friend’s face. Lady Wifi was back.

“Alya…”

The two heroes got into a fighting stance and prepared to take down this controlled akuma.

________________________________________________

The halls were empty and lifeless as the two visiting teens made their way cautiously down the halls.

“Oddly quiet in here.” The fencer commented. “What do you think Luka?”

“Well last time we entered a place with an akuma in it, it was brimming with armored minions. Maybe this akuma has more stealth?” The Musician commented. “So, I don’t think you will be fighting as directly as you are use to Kagami.”

Kagami nodded at that, not exactly happy or sad regarding that remark. Her plan was to see if she could help her friends get out of the building, grab her textbook, and get out. She wasn’t really that interested in fighting a superpowered foe at this moment in time.

The two ceased speaking when they heard approaching footsteps.

“Someone’s coming.” Luka noted.

The two duck into the nearest room.

The two stayed close to the door as they listened to the sound of the approaching figure.

Kagami dropped to the floor silently as to check and see if she could get a visual.

She could only see what appeared to be costume boots of a larger figure. Which made the expert fencer believe it was not friendly.

The figure stopped, looking at the door. The two teens felt their neck hairs stand on edge as they did their best not to make a sound.

After what felt like an eternity, the figure passed the door without checking. Once the sound of his footsteps could no longer be heard, they let out a sigh of relief.

“That was way too close for comfort.”

“Agreed. I would prefer a direct confrontation next time, much less nerve-racking. “

The two carefully open the door and exit the room.

“Seems we found the akuma.” Luka commented. “Now we just need to avoid it and.”

“You mean akumas.” Kagami corrected.

“Akumas?”

Kagami tilted the boys head to look in the same direction she was looking, and sure enough she saw a rather large rock like creature walking the halls.

“Oh… well that is bad.”

Kagami pushed him back into the room and closed the door. Locking it before the rock giant could notice them.

“I’m surprised.”

“By the fact there is an 8-foot-tall rock beast outside?”

“No, by the fact you didn’t try to fight it.”

“I don’t have a weapon.” Kagami replied flatly.

Luka raised a brow at the comment, unsure if the fencer was serious or not about fighting that thing if she had a foil.

“Is something wrong?” A third voice came from behind them.

The two teens turned around, preparing for the worst. Though they were relieved to see it was just an old janitor… in a Hawaiian shirt. Despite his odd dress, he did give off a kind aura. One of a trusting old grandpa.

They noticed that the room seemed to be a sort of teacher’s lounge, with a small counter with a sink and cabinets. As well as a fridge to keep food cold and stored. A place in the school where teachers would come to get a quick coffee or store their lunch.

“Oh good, you aren’t an akuma.” Luka sighed with relief.

“An akuma?” The old man asked.

“Yes, it is very dangerous out there right now. There are multiple villains outside. I would recommend staying put while we go out there and help handle things.” Kagami explained.

“Quite bold of you to go out there against those monsters.” The man responded.

“Don’t worry, we will be careful. We just need to make sure we can get as many people out as we can so Ladybug and Chat noir won’t need to worry.”

“Ah, how selfless of you. You both seem quite capable for ones so young.”

“You’re very kind, but we are just doing what we can. Our friends are out there and they need our help.”

Kagami goes to the door. Checking to ensure the coast is clear again.

The old man pats the musician’s shoulder.

“I am sure you two will figure a way to help your friends.”

“There are too many outside this room.” Kagami grumbled. If only I had a way to fight them.”

The mysterious janitor smiled.

“Say… I did happen to see Ladybug earlier.”

The two teens turned their attention to the old man.

“You did?” they asked in unison.

“Yes, she happened to drop something while rushing. Would you two be so kind as to return them to her when you see her.”

The two of them glance at each other and shrug. The old janitor might be senile.

“Sure… We can give it to her.” Luka assured the old man, trying to remain polite.

The old man moves to a closet, where out of view of the two teens, an elaborate chest with the symbol of the guardian’s decorates the top. He quickly gets two smaller boxes and closes the closet.

“Ah! Here they are.”

He hands the two a small box each. Their eyes go wide.

“They seemed important, so I didn’t want to just leave them on the floor. But I have a feeling you two will take good care of them.”

The two teens were engrossed by the boxes in their hands. They recognized them immediately. These were the boxes Ladybug used when handing out miraculous.

“Where did you find…?” Kagami tried to question, but noticed the old man was no longer there.

“He’s gone…”

“Actually, I am over here.”

The teens look in the opposite direction they were looking in order to see him at the end of the room getting a snack from the fridge.

The duo decided that maybe this old guy wasn’t all there after all and figured it would be best to go somewhere and utilize the ‘gift’ they were just given.

“Stay in the lounge where it’s safe okay?” Luka asked politely.

“Of course. I am not paid if I am not working.”

The two teens checked the door again, and once the coast was clear. They both slipped out of the room.

After he knew they were out of sight, the old man chuckled.

“The senile routine works every time.”

“Master, you really cut it close with that one.” A small turtle creature exclaimed as he popped out from the closet.

“The universe works in mysterious ways Wayzz. What are the odds that there would be an attack on the school the very day I decide to hide out as a janitor?”

“Considering the frequency of akuma attacks, very likely.”

“True, but how about running into two individuals that Marinette had picked to be heroes.” Fu followed up.

“That is quite a coincidence.”

The guardian pulled out his phone and noticed he didn’t have a signal.

“It seems I can’t get a signal to notify her of the reinforcements I sent her way. Likely it would be the same on her end. So, it is a good thing I acted in advance.”

Fu moved to the closet where he kept the miraculous.

“I can’t help but shake the feeling Ladybug and Chat noir will need all of the help they can get.

“Don’t worry master, I am sure Ladybug and Chat noir will be successful.

“Let us keep an eye on things. They might need another ally to turn the tide.

________________________________________________________

“I am guessing you are also familiar with what’s inside here?” Kagami inquired as the two stealthily moved in the hall.

“I may be familiar with it.” Luka commented.

Kagami contemplated the statement. She figured out the truth.

“Seems we both have used a miraculous then?”

“It appears we have. Though I am not sure Ladybug will be thrilled that someone knows I have helped her.”

“I understand the sentiment. Though lets simply agree to keep it between us.” Kagami answered. “Friends do keep secrets like that if I’m correct.”

Luka smiled at the comment.

“Your secret is safe with me.” Luka assured.

“As is yours.”

The two found the locker room and quickly moved inside.

“Coast is clear.”

The two opened the boxes and as they did two magical creatures appeared in front of them.

A floating creature with multiple spikes appeared in front of the fencer, while another floating creature that resembled a cobra stood in front of luka.

“It is a pleasure to see you again Mistress Kagami.”

“It’s been too long, Longg.” Kagami smiled. Happy to see her kwami friend.

“Hello Luka, itssss been a while.” The snake kwami greeted.

“Happy to see you too Sass.” Luka fist bumped his kwami.

The kwamis stop and turn to see the other kwami there.

“Does Ladybug know about this?” They both ask in unison.

“We will inform her after. Right now, there is a lot of danger.” Kagami exclaimed. “Ladybug needs our help.”

The two kwami nod and prepare to fight.

“Consssider us accomplissses.” Sass answered.

The two teens put on the miraculous.

“Sass! Scales Slither.”

“Longg! Bring the storm”

The two teens transform into their heroic alter egos.

Kagami shifting into the dragon miraculous hero Ryuuko, and Luka changing into the Snake hero Viperion.

The two stop to glance at the other.

“So, what should I call you.” The snake hero asked curiously.

“Call me Ryuuko. And what about you mister snake?”

“Viperion is what I am going with.”

“Fitting.”

“As is yours.”

The two give a nod of comradery before making their way out of the locker room. They had to go help Ladybug.

__________________________________________________

Ladybug dashed across the hallway, avoiding pause symbols being flung at her by the conniving akuma.

She slid underneath one of the symbols and preformed a daring slide kick to knock Lady Wifi off balance.

While she was unstable, Chat noir charged and used his baton to make contact with her white mask. Believing it was the obvious weak point.

“Got it!” Chat noir exclaimed triumphantly. The strike of the staff knocking Ladywifi a good several meters. Before lying flat on her back.

“Wow, that is a tough mask. I thought for sure that was the weak point.” Chat noir commented.

Lady Wifi stood up robotically.

“There must be a way to snap her out of it. Unless Hawkmoth is learning from his mistakes.” Ladybug hypothesized as she got up from the ground.

“Well I got nothing.” Chat noir shrugged.

Another set of footsteps approaching caught the hero’s attention. The recognized the multicolored bubble maker the moment they saw him.

“Nino… You too?” Chat noir said under his breath.

The Bubble maker used his bubble wand to summon two large bubbles to capture the heroes. Bringing back flashbacks of their first encounter with the bubble akuma.

Chat noir and Ladybug expertly slide between the gaps of the attack, resulting in Lady Wifi getting hit with the large bubbles and being sent flying into the wall via bubble prison.

Chat noir lunged at the Bubbler, his quick pounce pinning him down before he could attack.

“Maybe I can destroy his mask with…”

“Wait Chat noir!” Ladybug called out.

Chat noir paused.

“What if your cataclysm doesn’t free him?”

“And then I am left without the power before a recharge.”

“Exactly. We need to hold off on using our powers right now.”

Chat noir wanted to save his friend. But he knew his partner was right. They needed to conserve their powers before facing Lila.

The Bubbler managed to get the cat hero off of him with a burst of strength. Knocking Chat noir to the ground.

Lady Wifi had gotten free from the bubble attack and was now blocking the other entrance.

Ladybug and Chat noir moved back to back, Ladybug facing the ladyblogger turned mindless akuma slave and Chat noir facing the akumatized DJ.

“Any ideas, Buggaboo?”

“Seems they can’t adapt. They are pretty much mindless slaves. Which makes sense since Lila wouldn’t want them to think for themselves.”

“So you’re saying their movements are simple.”

“Which means they are exploitable.”

Chat noir felt relief watch over him. He knew Ladybug had a plan.

_____________________________________________________

“EWWWW!” Chloé screeched in disgust. The front entrance to the school had been covered in a pink slime.

She wiped her hand on the cleanest section of wall she could find. This was not her day.

“What is with this nasty gross akuma? First, I can’t call Daddy to come and pick me up. I can’t even post about it! How will Ladybug know to save me? Or better yet, get me the bee miraculous so I can help her save the day?”

Chloé decided to try another exit, since she had no plans of sticking around without knowing if she was going to be given a miraculous or not. Plus, she did say she would call for help, and doing that would make her look good in potential hero points.

As she was walking, she bumps into something in the middle of the hall. Which was bizzare since the hall was clear.

“Ouch, right on my bruise. What the hell is…”

Chloé felt her anger shift to fear when she watched as the empty hall now contained a familiar akuma.

“Sabrina?”

The akuma turned to her, her face covered with a white face mask.

“Eww. Your akuma form looks even tacker than before.”

“Take potential akuma to master.” The akumatized Sabrina stated in an emotionless tone. Repeating the order, she had been given.

“Oh no you don’t! Sabrina, I order you to listen to me!”

The akuma ignored the blonde’s command and slowly walked towards her.

“Sabrina… I am warning you. I am going to yell at you over this later if you don’t stop right now.”

Chloé started slowly backing away. She wasn’t sure of what to do.

“Listen… if you stop right now… I’ll uh… let you take a pick of one of my old sweaters.” Chloé bargained, not intending to let her pick one of the ones she actually liked.

Chloé felt her hand touch the sealed door, and knew she was at the end of the hall. She was boxed in.

“This is so unacceptable.” Chloé stated, preparing to get captured. But a flash of Red and Black came out of nowhere and kicked the akuma hard to the wall.

“Ladybug! I knew you would like save me!” Chloé jumped and hugged her savior.

“Im not ladybug.” The heroine spoke.”

Chloé released the hug as she examined who her savior was.

“Who the hell are you?”

Chloé had never bothered to learn the names of any of the other miraculous heroes. She sometimes forgets chat noir’s name.

“Ryuuko.” The dragon heroine stated calmly, almost regretting saving Chloé.

“Did Ladybug send you? Cause it would have been better if she got me to help.”

Ryuuko decided to ignore Chloé’s comment.

“Now we need to leave before she… Where did she go?” Looking at the dented locker that no longer had an akuma lying on the ground.

Suddenly the akuma popped out of nowhere about to strike from above with her tonfa and steal Ryuuko’s powers, but was stopped when a small harp smacked her face.

“She appears to have invisibility.” A voice called out.

The two turn to see the snake hero as he caught his harp on the rebound.

Chloé took a moment to look over the snake hero. She had to admit, he was pretty cute. Not Adrien cute, maybe she would start learning the names of the other heroes.

“Quick thinking Viperion.” Ryuuko thanked the snake teen.

“Just following your lead.” Viperion responded. The two giving eachother a respectful smile. They both seemed to have gotten used to working together.

The akuma got up. Its white face mask making the akuma’s expression unreadable. But its body language exuded rage.

“Seems we aren’t going anywhere until she is taken care of.” Ryuuko said as she stared down the akuma.

Viperion turned to chloé.

“You need to go and get to safety.”

“Okay!” Chloé says as she runs off.

“How come she didn’t give you any sass?”

“Because I already have him.”

Kagami had to admit that was a clever response.

“Not what I meant, but Chat noir would love that joke.”

“I will be sure to tell him it later.”

“Stick to playing guitar. You’re a better musician than comedian.”

Before they could get off anymore banter. The akuma went for another attack.

________________________________________________________

Simularé entered Ms.Bustier’s classroom.

“I am here.” The ghostly sentimonster announced.

“Excellent.”

The sentimonster looked up to see that the classroom it was expeciting to see had been altered into what appeared to be a rather glamourous throne room. The windows covered by white curtains with the design of an akuma in black. The platforms and stairs had been altered to be marble. And at the top, where Lila’s desk once was was now a golden throne akin to something one would see in a castle. Though despite the impressive change in the classroom it was still being designed. The akuma known as the evillustrator was still creating more furnishings for the room.

“Simulare, I have an order for you.” Masquerade stated as she sat on the new throne. Clearly confident in her position.

The sentimonster approached her master. Stopping only a few feet away.

“I want you to create a mirage over the school. Since Ladybug is already in the school. It would be best if you made sure no one notices whats happening here. I don’t need any additional heroes popping in yet. Let’s handle her before making things public.”

Simularé nodded.

“Understood. But what should we do if she…”

“I have everything under control. Just follow my orders.”

Simularé ceased her questioning.

“As you wish master.”

The sentimonster shifted into her Volpina form and headed out of the classroom.

“She is getting arrogant in her power. If things do go south, I will need to step in.” Simularé said to herself. But for now, she knew she had a role to play.

_____________________________________________________________

And that ends part 34.

Seems things are REALLY heating up. Will Viperion and Ryuuko be able to help Ladybug and Chat noir?

Will Ladybug and Chat noir be able to get through to their brainwashed friends?

Will Masquerade's gambit be enough for her to get her vengeance?

Whats Simularé's deal?

Find out by staying tuned and sharing. Remember Reblogs help content creators and if you do enjoy my content, the support really does help

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itsallyscorner · 4 years ago

Note

just like magic with marvel cast, the vibe is----- a perfect song for a lil b*tch with a good heart and a sarcastic mouth

just like magic is the song we ALL need for 2020😌 Start manifesting ya’ll🖤 Also thank you sm for the request I am so so sorry this took so freakin’ long😭 Love u, happy reading🖤🖤 Tried to add my own lil twist to your request:)

(A lil different from the request, but I tried to make the reader have a bit sas.)

💌.

just like magic

Growing up within the Marvel Cinematic Universe was probably one of things you were most grateful for. When you first started out you weren’t that social. You were new to the business, you didn’t know anybody and you were intimidated by every single actor you crossed paths with.

At first you didn’t feel like you fit in. You felt as if you were a burden to everyone else. You barely talked to anyone which made the others approach you out of force by the Russos. Everyone around you was talented while you were just some newcomer who had jack shit as experience. The first few years you were insecure of yourself mentally and physically. You weren’t as pretty or fit as the other women in the MCU nor did your skills live up to theirs. Which led to some unhealthy habits. Plus there were haters and movie critics who would say horrible things about you and your acting.

You had a rocky start unlike Tom Holland and even Lexi Rabe. Until one day when you realized that you had to change how you were thinking. It took you a while but all that negative thinking you were doing was only bringing you negative energy. So when you had a break from filming movies, your number one goal was to improve yourself.

Wake up in my bed, I just wanna have a good day (Mmm, ah)

Think it in my head, then it happens how it should, ayy

Twelve o'clock, I got a team meeting, then a meditation at like 1:30

Then I ride to the studio listening to some shit I wrote (Oh)

You woke up with smile on your face in a sense of calmness. The sun shined bright hues into your room as you got up from your bed. Today was the first day back on set. You guys were finally filming Civil War and you were honestly so excited. As you did your morning routine, you went over how the day would go in your head. You’re genuinely excited to see the entire cast. It has been almost half a year since you’ve seen everyone and you couldn’t wait to be back.

You took one last look at yourself in the mirror. Compared to the previous year, you looked and felt healthy. Your eyes shined and you looked well relaxed. You know like one of those face cleanser commercials? That’s how you felt. You felt like a breath of fresh air.

The ride to the studio took a good 30 minutes but it felt like seconds. You entered the set with a new sense of confidence and pride. The energy was practically radiating off you.

“(Y/n)?” You hear someone call from behind you. You turn around and see Scarlett looking at you.

“Hey!” You greet her as you approach her. You pulled her into a hug, startling her.

“Oh! Hello to you too, honey.” She laughed as she wrapped her arms around you. “How are you?”

“I’m doing great! Life’s been good.” You answer as a toothy grin graces itself on your face. Scarlett’s eyes are filled with shocked. From the previous times she’s talked to you she’s never seen you so loud or open. You were always shy and closed off from everyone on set.

Good karma, my aesthetic (Aesthetic)

Keep my conscience clear, that's why I'm so magnetic

Manifest it (Yeah), I finessed it (I finessed it)

Take my pen and write some love letters to Heaven

Eventually everyone on set caught on to your new attitude. Though they tried to be discreet about their reactions and shocked expressions, you could still see how they were caught off guard by your sudden change of nature.

Anthony watched as you conversed with Elizabeth and Scarlett on the couch in Robert’s “village” . You were probably the most smiliest person in the room beating Evans, who was eating his lunch.

“She’s like different. But in a good way. It’s like she’s bloomed.” Anthony thought out loud to the men beside him. Chris (E) and Sebastian look in your direction.

“Bloomed?” Chris snorted as he swallowed his food.

“Yeah, like she’s growing into a woman.” Anthony hummed proudly as he went back to his own lunch. Sebastian smiled at you, “I think she’s gained some confidence in herself and finally realized how good of a person she is.”

“If she’s finally realized that, I’m glad she did. She’s like a ball of sunshine, it’s adorable.” Chris smiled proudly at you as your hands move around animatedly while explaining some story to the two women in front of you.

“Y’all think it’s a boy?” Anthony wondered. Sebastian rolled his eyes at his friend. Before he can even respond Anthony is calling you over. You approach the men with a smile and take a seat beside Sebastian.

“What’s up?” You greet them. Chris nods at you as he chews on his sandwich. Sebastian greeting you with a quiet “hey”.

“So who’s the lucky man?” Anthony asks teasingly. Your brows knit together head tilting to the side.

“Man?”

“Yes man, or boy, whatever. Who’s got you feelin’ yourself, (y/n).” Anthony wiggles his brows as he shimmies closer to you. Sebastian, who’s in between you two, cringes at the man to his left.

You didn’t take any offense to the question, knowing that everyone was curious as to why you were so unlike yourself.

You chuckled before smirking at the older man, “Anthony, honey. I don’t need a man to be feelin’ myself. I did this on my own.”

Chris and Sebastian’s mouth drop at your answer. Chris laughed as he pointed out Anthony’s face. Sebastian slung an arm around your shoulder bringing you into a side hug as he laughed with Chris.

“To be fair” Chris began to say but started to laugh, “To be fair, you deserved that.” Anthony’s face went flushed as he nodded to himself. You suddenly felt bad that you put him on the spot.

“Alright, stop laughing at him.” You playfully glare at Chris and Seb. You poke Anthony’s arm, “To answer your question, I’ve just been working on myself. Thinking more positively, I even tried manifestation.”

“You know what, that’s good. You’re taking care of yourself mentally and physically. I’m proud of you for doing this for yourself, we all are.” Anthony tells you as he motions to the two other men.

You look at all three of them, all of them looking at you with pride, “Thanks guys.”

Just like magic (Baby), just like magic (Oh yeah)

Middle finger to my thumb and then I snap it

Just like magic (Yeah), I'm attractive (Oh yeah)

I get everything I want 'cause I attract it (Oh)

As the months passed, the more you evolved into another version of you. You walked with determination, carried yourself with such grace and you’ve gained confidence in your career. You didn’t let your insecurities get to you, instead you faced them and overcame them. You were tired of letting them control you.

Your change in attitude and perspective on life has definitely affected your life in many ways. Manifestation was one of the things that have helped you the most. Writing about your goals and putting that energy out to the world has helped you persevere in your job. You’ve only faced good karma; sending out positive energy and receiving it back from the universe.

So far you’ve been casted in two new projects and have a campaign lined up with Gucci. If you were told a year ago that you’d be working with big time directors and freakin’ Gucci, you wouldn’t have believe them. Life has been unreal ever since you decided to change your life around. But of course you had to thank your Marvel family, without them and their support you probably wouldn’t haven gotten to where you were today.

Looking at my phone, but I'm tryna disconnect it (Oh yeah)

Read a fuckin' book, I be tryna stay connected (Yeah)

Say it's tricky at the top, gotta keep a slim ego for a thick wallet

Losing friends left and right, but I just send 'em love and light (Oh)

As many people recognized your success many people still tried to pull you down. Some fans on social media have noticed your change in behavior and have even praised you for practicing self care. While others still tried to push you off the mountain of success you were currently on and drag you across the ground.

These were the reasons as to why you were barely on your phone anymore. You used to be invested in your phone but after realizing how much negativity it brought you, you’ve decided to slowly disconnect from it. Which led you to becoming more interested into books.

Chris (E) had even brought some of his favorite arts of literature for you to borrow. You were currently on your third book of his, Sapiens A Brief History of Humankind by Yuval Noah Harari. You were sitting outside your trailer in a fold up chair under the shade. Your peacefulness was interrupted by Tom (Holland) who had a worried expression on his face.

“Have you not seen it yet?” He asked you as soon as he was in front of you. Being the two most youngest actors on the current set, you guys were closer to each other than with the adults.

“Seen what, Tommy?” You put a finger in between the pages you were reading to save your spot. Tom pulls his phone out and began to type. He tapped on his screen and turned the screen to you.

“She’s been talking crap about you for days.” You read the article and saw that one of your “friends”, Sabrina has been speaking out about your success and how it’s changed you as a person.

“She’s going off about how the more money you get in your wallet, the more bratty and arrogant you become.” He grumbled as he turned his phone off.

“I could care less, honestly. I know I haven’t done anything to her and if I did I was unaware of it. Plus, she stopped talking to me after I said I couldn’t get her a part in a movie.” You shrugged as you placed a proper bookmark in the book.

“You’re not upset?”

“I mean it’s sad that she’s acting so two faced. But if that’s how she wants to roll, then be my guest. It’s her loss, not everyone has great taste.” You flicked a piece of hair away from your face with your hand.

“You’re not gonna release a statement against her?”

“No, probably just wish her well with her life and move on with my own.” You answered much to Tom’s dismay.

Redesign your brain, we gon' make some new habits

Just like magic (Just like magic), just like magic

Filming has officially ended a few months ago and now you guys were doing press tour for Civil War. Before you were the new and improved version of yourself, you dreaded press tours. Some interviewers were nice and respectful, but there were those who would ask inappropriate questions and were just rude in general. All you could remember during those past tours was wanting to leave those rooms as soon as possible.

The q&a panel at New York had a packed room. There were many journalist crowded in the room shoulder to shoulder. You were sat in between Elizabeth and Scarlett, two of the women who have been guiding you and teaching you about life as a woman in the business. They were also like your older sisters.

The panel had been going smoothly for the first half hour until a man with a snobby face and cocky demeanor approached the mic.

“Hello, I’m Keith and my question’s for (y/n).” He began. You nodded in his direction, motioning for him to continue.

“I think everyone’s noticed how you’ve changed and developed as a person. Obviously something’s changed in your life. So I want to know if you’ve had any intimate relationships with any of the men in the cast?” You were surprised at the man’s question. First it was bold of him to ask such a question and second it was just disrespectful to you and the others on the cast.

“I mean someone’s gotta be fucking you good to make you crawl out your shell.” The man finished shrugging nonchalantly. Robert was about to interject but your mouth was quicker than his. The men of the cast were disgusted at the man while they sat at the edge of their seats.

“Well last time I checked my contract, my job was to act, not sleep around with the men who are part of these movies.” You spoke into the mic. All the attention was on you while the room was at a standstill.

“It’s also very upsetting that you think a girl needs to be fucked in order to be confident in herself. I hate to break it to you but women are completely capable of turning their lives around without the help of men and that says a lot about you, sir. So if I were you, I’d take myself back to my seat and rethink my life because if one of us has to redesign our brains it’s you.” You finished as you placed your mic on your lap. The room was silent until the cast began to clap. This was your first time standing up for yourself, usually Robert or Scarlett would swoop in and save you but this time, you were saving yourself.

You shook your head as you blushed, shoving your head in your hands. You felt some pats on the backs and cheers from your dysfunctional family. You look up and see Scarlett and Elizabeth smiling at you proudly.

“Isn’t she amazing?” Robert asked the crowd as he hugged you. The crowd cheering you on.

Just like magic, your life felt like a dream come true, knowing that you were worth it and enough for the people around you and for yourself.

#marvel #mcu #avengers #chris evans #chris evans x reader #Sebastian Stan #sebastian stan x reader #anthony mackie x reader #Anthony Mackie #Scarlett Johansson #Scarlett Johansson x reader #marvel cast x teen!reader #marvel cast x reader #ally’s 700 celebration #ally’s requests

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sometimesbeforeitgetsbetter · 3 years ago

Text

Off the Record | Stiles Stilinski

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x reader

Summary: High school in Beacon Hills, as told through the eyes of one inquisitive journalist who has a knack at getting on Stiles Stilinski's nerves.

Warnings: idk there's like a couple curse words lmao. also, spoilers? if you haven't finished teen wolf I guess??

Word count: 8,227

A/N: hi hi this is my first fic I'm posting on Tumblr (not to say that this is my first fic ever...anyway)! before you start, I just wanna say that there's a couple things that might be off from the show but please just ignore them. like I think it's bs Lydia brings Stiles back and not Scott in 6b so I righted that wrong. but I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think of it! thanks for reading!!

All my life I’ve wondered why people didn’t question what happens in Beacon Hills.

It’s no secret that our town is unusual, but when odd things seemed to happen, people would just turn a blind eye and go about their business.

I, on the other hand, couldn’t let it go. I was inquisitive by nature, and my mom never knew how to answer my questions.

Why do we have so many animal attacks?

What happened to the people that disappeared in the Preserve?

Why did his eyes glow like that?

That last question almost caused my mom to get me a therapist – which probably would’ve helped me regardless – but she just continued to answer with her usual responses.

They just feel threatened by us, dear.

They’re in a better place now.

I’m sure it was nothing – you probably just saw some reflection in his eyes.

But no matter what she told me, I wasn’t satisfied. I knew there was something bigger going on, something my mom couldn’t explain, but I wasn’t sure what. As I got older, however, I realized that if I kept voicing my concerns, I’d be seen as the local crazy person – which, at the time, was the title reserved for my neighbor, Donna Romano, who always went to Town Hall meetings to complain about how some supernatural creatures were traumatizing her dogs every time she took them out at night to urinate.

Out of fear of sounding like Donna, I kept my suspicions to myself. I observed the strange actions of those around me and kept note of the bizarre events that happened in town. I found that it was something I was good at – observing. Always watching, but never voicing my opinions. Eventually, it got the best of me because I grew really quiet at school. But I didn’t mind. I liked being a wallflower.

One day in the fifth grade I saw my mom reading the Beacon Chronicle and I had an epiphany – journalists investigate weird, inexplicable events, so I should be a journalist. Reading the news became my favorite pastime, and by sixth grade I decided I would join the high school newspaper, The Daily Beacon, when I became a freshman. I figured maybe it would give me an outlet to investigate the odd occurrences in the town without looking like a lunatic.

But in sixth grade, I noticed that some of the odd things had stopped happening. There were less animal attacks and disappearances from the Preserve. Some people had even left town, including the last of the Hales, whose house had burned down that same year.

I didn’t give up hope though. I kept my head down and waited for things to get weird again. In the meantime, I wrote for enjoyment. In eighth grade I started shadowing a girl named Anna that was a part of the Daily Beacon, and I started writing articles – album reviews, movie reviews, school news.

Everything was going smoothly until my sophomore year of high school. Suddenly the weird things were happening, and I was sure that there was one person that was at the epicenter of it all – Scott McCall.

“...Angela, you’re covering the new faculty; Thomas, you’ve got the new Vegan Support Group club some juniors just created; and y/n, you’re covering lacrosse try-outs,” said Andrew, the editor-in-chief of the Daily Beacon.

I groaned slightly. “Andrew, couldn’t I write something a little bit more...my style? Like what about the one freshman class that boycotted their summer reading and is facing suspension?”

He gave me a slight look. “y/n, you know how important this lacrosse piece is. You know what that sport means to the school. You should be glad I’m giving you this opportunity,” he scolded. “Besides, Marlene is covering that class and is already interviewing their teacher.”

I nodded slowly and tried to refrain from rolling my eyes. I knew that Andrew meant well – he had been like an older brother to me ever since my freshman year – and he was right about the importance of lacrosse. I stayed quiet until he dismissed us, then mentally prepared myself to spend my afternoon watching some jocks exude machismo on a field.

When my last class was over, I walked over to the lacrosse field and found myself a spot on the top of the bleachers. It gave me an excellent vantage point – until a couple girls sat down right in front of me. The redhead I recognized to be Lydia Martin, the school’s resident popular girl. We’d been in class together all our lives, but I couldn’t remember a time she ever talked to me. I’m sure she didn’t even know I existed, just like the majority of the other people in our grade. The other girl, however, I didn’t recognize. I found out her name was Allison by overhearing their conversation. She was new and must have just moved to Beacon Hills.

The shrill sound of Coach’s whistle knocked me out of my thoughts. Tryouts started, and I watched as Scott McCall, a boy from my grade, was nearly knocked out by a lacrosse ball to the face. I winced but wrote down the event in the notebook I had out for documentation.

The next ball that went Scott’s way didn’t hit his face though. He managed to catch it in his goalie net. I couldn’t help but be a bit surprised – like Lydia, I’d known of Scott my whole life though he probably didn’t know me at all. But that meant I knew he was an asthmatic that wasn’t particularly skilled at sports.

“He’s actually pretty good,” I mumbled to myself as Scott continued to catch every ball that came his way.

I didn’t realize how loud I must’ve said it though because at my remark Allison turned around. “I was just thinking the same thing,” she said, obviously surprised. “Do you know him?”

I shook my head and quickly turned my attention to my notebook to write down the surprising turn of events. “Are you writing about this for the school newspaper?” I looked back up at Allison’s question. She was paying attention to me?

“Um, yeah, I am. I’d rather not write about sports, but here I am,” I joked lightly.

She let out a beautiful laugh at my statement. “Well, I’m glad you’re here. I’m Allison, and you are…?”

“y/n,” I answered. “Nice to meet you, Allison.” Suddenly the crowd roared, and I remembered why I was there. Allison, too, smiled and turned her attention back to the game. Lydia hadn’t said a word, but she was focused on watching Scott absolutely demolish Jackson Highmore, who, in my opinion, needed to be knocked down a few pegs anyway.

The more I watched Scott though, I got this weird feeling. He was good – too good. I tried to ignore my feelings and just focus on writing notes for the ridiculous lacrosse piece, which would include the headline: “Sophomore Scott McCall shines at lacrosse tryouts and becomes team co-captain.” But deep down I knew there was something up with him.

A few days later, I was sitting behind Stiles Stilinski, Scott’s best friend, in English class. Even though I’d had nearly all of my classes with him, we never talked. It originally was because I had a minor crush on him and was afraid I’d pass out if I spoke to him, but eventually it just morphed into me not speaking to many people and being convinced he didn’t know of my existence anyway.

But this one day, I was committed to speaking with him. I had to know what was going on, and if there was one person that knew anything about Scott’s new-found lacrosse talent, it was Stiles.

“Hey, Stiles,” I spoke up from behind him.

The brunette turned around, slightly confused but with that soft smile on his face. “Oh, hey, y/n. What’s up?”

I swear my heart stopped beating for a second. He knew my name? He knew who I was? I shook myself out of my thoughts before I went down the rabbit hole of the implications of him knowing me.

“Oh, nothing much. I’m just writing a piece about lacrosse tryouts for the school newspaper and I was just wondering if you had anything to say about it,” I explained.

He tilted his head slightly and shifted in his seat to more fully face me. “Um, yeah sure. I think it’s going to be a great season, especially since we’ve gotten some new leadership. My boy Scott’s co-captain now, so those Devenford Prep guys won’t know what hit them!”

“Speaking of Scott, when did he get so good at lacrosse? Would you say it’s natural talent?” I pressed a bit, hoping he’d say something that would give me a hint as to what was going on.

Stiles’ eyes squinted a little, and his head tilted slightly again. He seemed to be at a loss for words, which was unusual for the fast-talking, sarcastic boy, but he quickly recovered. “It’s definitely...natural...talent. He’s been working extra hard recently to hone his talent and skills so he could bring his A-game to this year’s tryouts.” When he finished speaking, he looked pleased with himself, and I could tell he had let out a small sigh of relief.

What are you hiding?

Though I didn’t know it yet, at that moment my rivalry with Stiles Stilinski began. He and Scott were hiding something, and I was going to find out what it was.

“You’re telling me that a girl is in a coma after the school winter formal and you don’t want me to write a story about it?”

Andrew leaned against the desk and crossed his arms. “It’s not that I don’t want you to write it. I just think it’s a tense time right now. The administration is receiving a lot of flack right now because of the winter formal fiasco, and Ms. Blanchard told me that we may want to avoid stirring the pot right now,” he explained. “That is not to say that we abandon our journalistic integrity and commitment to informing the student body, but we just may want to be sensitive to our environment right now.”

I trusted Ms. Blanchard, the faculty sponsor of the Daily Beacon, but not reporting on Lydia’s comatose state felt wrong. She was well-known at school, and students deserved to know the facts of her situation and how it had happened.Well, maybe I was lying to myself by saying that the real reason I wanted to pursue the story wasn’t the fact that something inexplicable had happened at the dance and I had to figure out what it was.

Andrew could sense my disappointment. “Look, maybe for now you can start collecting information and sources, and I’ll talk to Ms. Blanchard. Maybe she can advise us on how best to proceed.”

I threw my arms around Andrew in a quick hug. “Yes, thank you! I promise I’ll be sensitive when asking sources. I know how difficult this must be for the people close to her.”

“I know you will,” he said, chuckling lightly.

With a smile plastered on my face – perhaps a little inappropriately considering the topic I was excited to cover – I left the small newspaper office in search of my first source: Stiles Stilinski. He had been Lydia’s date to the dance, so surely he must know what happened to her, right? “No, I don’t know what happened,” Stiles angrily responded when I cornered him at his locker. “We were separated for a bit because she went looking for someone. When I went looking for her I–” he stopped suddenly, as if choosing his words carefully. He wouldn’t meet my eyes as he spoke.

“The next thing I know, she was at the hospital in a coma. They told me Jackson had found her out on the field when I went to check on her at the hospital,” he explained.

Something wasn’t adding up. “Ok, but where were you the rest of that time? You didn’t go looking for her when you didn’t see her for a while? What about when she had already been checked into the hospital?”

“What is this – an investigation?” Stiles shouted as he slammed his locker shut. I took a step back, eyes wide at the sudden display of aggression. Maybe I pushed too hard, I thought. Stiles rubbed a hand over his face and took a deep breath. “Sorry, I….I didn’t mean it like that. There’s just a lot going on, and my dad has been up my ass about those details too. To be honest, I can’t tell you where I was. The time just flew by and all of a sudden I’d realized I hadn’t seen Lydia for a couple hours. I wish I had been there for her, but there’s nothing I can do for her now other than check up on her.”

Running a hand over his buzzed head, he shot me a forced smile and said “good luck with your article” before walking away.

I was at a loss for words, trying to put the pieces together in my head. Surely he couldn’t have had a part in Lydia’s injury? There’s no way. But his defensiveness was off-putting–

“Hey, y/n!” I was snapped out of my thoughts by Allison approaching me from behind. “What were you talking to Stiles about?”

“Huh? Oh, um, I was just asking him about…” I remembered that the funeral for Allison’s aunt was happening and didn’t want to mention the additional stress of her best friend being comatose, so I opted for a white lie. “Biology homework. I wasn’t really paying attention in class today.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize you two were friends,” she said as she leant against the lockers.

I shook my head violently. “We’re not.” I’d grown too close to Allison for her to not pick up on my feelings though.

“You say that now, but–”

“I have to get to class. See you at lunch, Ally!”

Other things that year were weird, but none warranted any further investigation via newspaper article. Sure, I was wondering about Erica Reyes’ sudden transformation into the ultimate baddie, the mysterious deaths of a mechanic and Isaac Lahey’s dad, numerous paralyzations at the Jungle, and a death of someone at a secret rave, but Andrew thought it would be best for the Chronicle and Ledger to cover those bigger events. In fact, the only other unnatural event that happened that I had to cover for the newspaper was Stiles’ unbelievable winning streak at the lacrosse championship. I would have quoted him after the game, but I really didn’t want to speak to him and anyway, he had disappeared for a bit right after the team won.

I could tell that things were happening, but it was all hidden from public view. I even noticed Allison’s behavior fluctuating. The arrival of her grandfather shook things up, and while he gave me a bad feeling, I couldn’t exactly figure out why. Lydia was more troubled than usual after coming back from the hospital even though she tried to act normally. Jackson was going through something and was more angry and aggressive than usual, but I wasn’t close enough to him to ask him if he was okay.

Over the summer, I spent a surprising amount of time with Lydia. Allison spent her summer in France, but she asked me to keep an eye on Lydia to make sure she was okay, especially since Jackson had moved to London during the summer break. I was surprised how much I enjoyed spending time with the redhead, and we hung out when I wasn’t working at my internship at The Beacon Chronicle, which my mom had convinced me to apply for after she noticed how irritated I was that I couldn’t pursue some of the stories I wanted.

By the time Allison came back before the start of school, it felt like Lydia and I had been best friends for the longest time.

“So, Allison, have you talked to Scott at all this summer?” I asked when I was sitting in the backseat of Lydia’s car, Allison in the passenger seat.

She shook her head. “No, I think I still need some time. He...hides things from me and I don’t know if I can trust him.”

I nodded my head, understanding the feeling. I still couldn’t place my finger on what had happened between them or what Scott was involved in. Though I comforted her when I found out they broke up, I didn’t really know why they’d done it.

“What about you, y/n? Have you talked to Stiles at all?” Allison asked, looking back at me in the backseat.

“Why the hell would I talk to Stiles?” I questioned, confused.

She and Lydia shared a small look that I couldn’t decipher before she shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know, but you guys are more similar than you may think. I don’t know why you guys act like you don’t like each other though.”

The car rolled to a stop at the stop light, and all of a sudden I noticed a familiar baby blue jeep approach next to us. “Speak of the devil,” I mumbled. Lydia and Allison didn’t notice Stiles staring and waving at first, but when they did the car was filled with awkward tension.

The next events were a blur: Lydia running the red light, both cars stopping in the middle of the road, and a deer running straight towards us, nearing killing me in the gap between the front seats. We were shaken, and the boys ran towards us when they saw what happened.

“Are you okay?” Stiles asked Lydia, but he kept looking at me. I nodded slightly and he turned his full attention back to Lydia.

“What was wrong with it?” Allison asked as Scott got closer to the deer.

“It was scared,” he explained. “No, terrified.”

Things got progressively weirder after that. On the first day of school, I interviewed our new English teacher, Ms. Blake. She was nice enough, but it was unfortunate that her class was the one that a whole flock of birds decided to burst through the classroom windows. By the time the police arrived, I was already drafting up a story in my brain: Why are the animals acting weird in Beacon Hills?

I had overheard Stiles talking to Scott about the deer’s weird behavior and the number of deer-related incidents in California, so I swallowed my pride so that I could talk to him and maybe get some stats and information on the whole situation.

I walked up to him when he was sitting alone, texting on his phone. “Hey, Stiles.” “y/n? What’s wrong?” He had genuine concern written on his face.

“I overheard you and Scott talking about deer-related incidents earlier,” I noticed how he tensed up at my statement, “and I was wondering if you could help me with a piece I’m writing? It seems like you know all the stats, so maybe...you could write it with me?” It pained me to finish that sentence, but I figured it might be easier to figure out what was going on if he was helping – especially if he already had inside information.

I think for the first time in his life, the talkative boy was speechless. “I understand if you don’t want to or you’re busy–” I said quickly, trying to give him a way out.

“Yeah, sure.”

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t caught off guard by his response. “W-what?”

He smirked slightly. “Yeah, sure. I’ll help you out with your article, y/n. Collaborate with you, if you will. We can work on it at my house tomorrow afternoon if you want.”

Nodding and agreeing with the plan, I left the chaotic English classroom.

The next afternoon, I felt like I was walking into the lion’s den. Going to Stiles’ house felt foreign, but what was even stranger was seeing him in casual clothes in a comfortable environment.

He answered the door wearing some sweats and a t-shirt, looking more comfortable and confident than I’d ever seen him. “Hey, y/n. Come on in,” he greeted.

I thanked him awkwardly, and we walked to his dining room table to get set up. “Sorry, I need to go grab my notes from my room. Be back in a sec,” Stiles said before leaving me alone in his dining room.

After a moment of silence, Sheriff Stilinski walked in wearing his uniform. “Oh, y/n! What are you doing here?” He had seen me a couple weeks ago in the police station when I was requesting documents for a story for the Chronicle. Though journalists and cops don’t often have a jovial relationship, he said that he liked me because of my commitment to the truth and respectful nature.

“Hey, Sheriff. I’m writing a piece about the animals acting weird, you know, with the deer accident and bird incident, and Stiles said he’d help me since he has a bunch of statistics on deer related car accidents.”

“Stiles is helping you? Well, I’ll be damned.” When he saw the confusion on my face, he rushed to explain himself. “No, not like that. It’s just, you’re all organized and focused, and Stiles is….Stiles.”

I was laughing heartily when the boy himself walked back into the room. “What’s going on, Daddy-o?”

“Nothing, son. Just catching up with y/n here. I’ve got to get to work, but you’re welcome anytime, y/n.” He said before patting Stiles on the shoulder and heading off to work.

Stiles looked over at me oddly when he placed his notes on the table and sat next to me. “Since when are you all buddy-buddy with my dad?”

Shrugging, I said, “Ever since we started grabbing beer every Thursday night while you’re at lacrosse practice.” His jaw dropped slightly, and I laughed again. “No, idiot. We’ve just interacted a lot because of my internship. Now, can we get started on the article?”

After the article was published, my next assignment was writing about the track meet a couple weeks later. I found out Allison and Lydia were riding together to the meet, so I tagged along.

Both girls were extremely tense the whole ride, seemingly concerned about something going on in the bus. We were only a few cars behind the bus full of track runners (and lacrosse players who were forced to attend the meet), but the stand-still traffic was a force to be reckoned with.

“Do you think we’re too close?” Allison asked.

“Honey, if you were any closer I think you’d mount the bus,” Lydia said sarcastically. She got a call from Stiles and looked over at Allison. “Hey, Stiles,” she dragged out the ‘hey,’ tension obvious in her voice.

She listened to what he was saying, something clearly wrong. “What do you mean he’s not–” she stopped when she remembered I was in the car, “healing?” She finished the question quietly, probably hoping I wouldn’t hear.

Healing? Is he injured?

“Yeah, ok, just find a way to get Coach to stop. We’ll meet you there.” She hung up and told Allison to pull off at the next stop.

When we got to the rest stop, I could see everyone hurrying to get off the bus. Allison parked the car, and we quickly went to the bathroom where I saw Scott nearly passed out on the floor. “Oh my god, is he okay?”

“Yeah, y/n. He’s fine. At least, he will be,” Stiles responded. He positioned his body in front of me a little bit as if he was trying to block my view of Scott.

I gently pushed him aside so I could see and was shocked to see black blood coming from the injured boy. “What the hell is going on? Why is his blood black?” I ran forward to get closer, kneeling next to Allison.

“It’s nothing. We just need to stitch him up and he’ll be fine.”

“Stiles, don’t fucking lie to me. I can see that he’s obviously not fine.”

“He’s right,” Allison said quietly. “We need to stitch him up. I need something to stitch him together with.” She looked around before remembering something in her bag.

I shook my head. “We need to tell Coach. Take him to a hospital or something.”

“No!” All three of them yelled at me.

It was quiet for a moment, all of us deciding where to go from here. “Just…” Stiles started, “please go and make sure the bus doesn’t leave without us. We’ll handle this.” I got up and slowly made my way to the door.

As I reached for the door, a hand grabbed my wrist. “y/n,” Stiles said, “it’ll make sense someday. Just trust us for now. Trust me,” he pleaded quietly out of earshot of the girls and Scott.

“I do,” I replied quietly, not meeting his eyes, before pulling my hand from his grasp and leaving the bathroom.

That night, we all had to stay at the Motel Glen Capri because of the postponed meet. I didn’t like its energy, and neither did Lydia. “A lot can happen in one night,” she said.

Though it was supposed to be two to a room, I convinced Coach to let me room with Allison and Lydia. Admittedly, Coach didn’t need much convincing because I was saving the school money by doing so. Once we got our room key, we went up to our room on the second floor.

“I’m going to go get a snack from the machine,” I told Lydia once Allison was in the shower.

She nodded. “Sounds good. I’m going to the lobby. There must be something we can do about these towels that reek of nicotine.”

Grabbing a couple one’s from my wallet, I made my way down the hall to the vending machine where I ran into Boyd and Stiles. As I approached, I could hear Stiles trying to talk to an unresponsive Boyd, who subsequently punched a hole through the glass of the machine, grab his snack that the machine refused to give him, and walk away.

“What the hell was that?” I asked Stiles as I walked up next to him.

He shrugged. “I don’t really know, to be honest.” He reached into the machine to grab his snack and tossed one to me as well.

When I got back to my room, a shaken Allison and Lydia were hurriedly talking about something. “Oh, y/n! You’re back. You won’t believe what just happened…” Allison started

She recounted the story of Scott’s bizarre behavior in the bathroom, and Lydia filled me in on the counter that they have at the front desk. “Can you imagine having a counter for the number of suicides that take place in your hotel? Crazy,” Lydia said. Taking her phone out, she sent a quick text to Stiles telling him that we all needed to talk.

We met him in the hallway a couple minutes later. “What was the text for?” Stiles asked when he saw our little gathering.

“There’s something going on with all the…” she looked over at me before continuing, “guys. You know, Scott, Boyd, Isaac, probably Ethan too.” I tried to connect the dots between all of them, but I didn’t really know what they all had in common. Scott and Isaac were both on the lacrosse team, but from what I could tell they didn’t have a particular fondness for each other or Ethan.

“I think someone’s going to die tonight,” Lydia said decisively.

“Why do you think that?” I asked, but it seemed like I was the only one questioning her line of reason.

She shook her head slowly. “I just...have a feeling.” After a moment of silence, she told us about hearing something from the room next to ours through the vent, so we decided to investigate it. Room 217 seemed empty and locked, but all of a sudden we heard the sound of a saw from behind the door.

Stiles busted the door open, and we opened it to find Ethan turning the saw on himself. “Ethan, stop!” I yelled as we ran into the room. Stiles started wrestling him for the saw, but luckily Lydia saw where it was plugged into the wall and unplugged it.

The next thing that happened was completely unexpected to me. Ethan grew fangs and claws, his eyes blazing red. What the fu–

Allison and Lydia rushed forward, wrestling his claws away from his torso where he had been planning on slashing himself. In the struggle he fell on the space heater, which apparently brought him out of whatever state he was in. He ran out of the room soon after. When we tried to question him about what he was doing, he couldn’t answer us. He had been out of control, and it made Allison realize we were forgetting someone.

“Where’s Scott?” She asked suddenly. When no one could answer, we all decided to split up – I’d go with Allison to look for Scott while Stiles and Lydia went to find Boyd and Isaac.

Scott wasn’t in his room. Allison and I ran all over the motel, looking in every crevice. At last, we decided to check the school bus, and that’s where we saw him. Standing drenched in gasoline, a flare lit up in his hand.

“Scott…” I approached quietly, careful to not make any sudden movements.

It was then that Stiles and Lydia joined us. I watched as Stiles walked into the gasoline, my breath catching in my throat as he nearly sacrificed himself. Scott was talking, but I didn’t really understand what it meant. He said that his life was better before the bite.

Stiles eventually talked Scott down, but the flare rolled into the gasoline. Luckily, Lydia was able to make sure we had all gotten out of the way. I’d ended up next to Stiles on the ground, and though we made eye contact, no words were spoken.

We spent the night in the bus because none of us could bear the thought of spending another second in that cursed place. Coach woke us up in the morning, definitely thinking the worst about what we may have gotten ourselves into, but whatever he was thinking wouldn’t possibly compare to reality. What was reality? I couldn’t have really told you at that point. I didn’t understand what we’d just lived through.

Before the other students started loading onto the bus, Stiles slid into the empty space next to me. “y/n, you know that all of this,” he made a grand gesture to Scott and the others as well as the motel, “is off the record. You can’t tell anyone about this. About what happened.” I held eye contact with him for a moment before nodding. “I wouldn’t tell anyone. To be honest, I don’t even really know what I would tell people, but I wouldn’t.” He nodded, a sad smile on his face as he looked down and fidgeted with his hands. “But Stiles,” I said as he looked back up at me. “Please help me understand it all. You can trust me, I promise, I just want to understand. I want to help.”

With a deep sigh, Stiles nodded once more. “Okay. I’ll tell you everything.”

When Stiles said he’d fill me in on everything, I didn’t realize he meant everything. I couldn’t believe how oblivious I had been to everything that had happened in the past year. Sure, I knew something weird was going on, but how was I supposed to know it was supernatural?

Finding out that my little corner of the world, little old Beacon Hills, California, had werewolves (and a kanima, pack of alphas, and whatever the hell a Darach was) was a lot to process. It was unbelievable, but Stiles helped me believe it.

I could tell that he didn’t fully trust me though. There was something in the way he looked at me that told me he was wondering when I would be done with my source acquisition and I’d write the next big exposé: Supernatural Beacon Hills: How Werewolves Have Been Hiding In Plain Sight. I didn’t know how to assure him that I was on their side and wouldn’t expose their secrets.

As the year progressed, things simultaneously made more sense and less sense. To defeat the Darach, we had to perform a sacrifice for the parents that had abducted, and Deaton – the veterinarian that had taken care of every family pet we’d ever had – told me I had to hold Stiles down during it. He said we had some sort of connection, but I guess that’s what mutual loathing does to people.

In the end, we won. We beat the Darach, the alpha of the alphas Deucalion left, and Scott became an alpha himself. But it was still just the beginning.

The sacrifice did something to Scott, Stiles, and Allison that we didn’t fully understand. Deaton said they left a door open, which only made it harder for Stiles to trust me because he could barely trust himself.

Knowing about the supernatural didn’t preclude my other responsibilities though. I still wrote for the Daily Beacon, much to Stiles’ displeasure, but I enjoyed it. So, on the first day of school I interviewed our newest faculty member – Mr. Yukimura. He and his family had just moved from New York, and his daughter Kira was in our grade. She was nice, but shy, so I invited her to have lunch with us.

Surprisingly, Kira jumped right into the conversation at lunch by mentioning bardo, the Buddhist concept of being in an in-between state.

After lunch, I caught up with Allison to walk to our next class. “Hey, Allison, could I ask you a favor?”

“Of course! What’s up?”

“Well, I don’t really know how to ask this but...I need help learning to defend myself, I guess? It’s just that I’m going to be helping you guys now, and I actually want to be helpful, so I want to protect myself so you guys don’t have to worry about me,” I admitted.

Allison smiled softly. “I’d love to help.” I returned her smile, suddenly giddy, yet nervous. “But, I think you should know that my...aim...has been off since the sacrifice.”

I could hear the disappointment in her voice. “Nonsense, I’m sure that you’re still the best shot in this school.” She shook her head. “It’s never been this bad.”

Touching her arm lightly, I gave her a reassuring smile. “We’ll figure it out together.”

A few days later, I was surprised when I was paid a visit by both Scott and Stiles while I was sitting in the library. “To what do I owe this pleasure, boys?”

“We need your help.” I perked up at Scott’s statement. “We’re trying to solve the Tate case, you know, the one where Malia Tate disappeared all those years ago after that car accident, and we could use your help tracking her down.” He looked over at Stiles and nudged him with his elbow.

“And, you can write a piece about it. Not including all the details, if what we think happened is true, but you can still write something factual,” Stiles said, still displeased that I was writing for the newspaper.

To annoy Stiles, I acted like I was really thinking about it for a minute, but then laughed lightly. “Yeah, I’ll help you guys. Where do we start?”

Pull yourself together, y/n. You’re a journalist. You’re supposed to report on tragedy all the time. Be objective.

I took a deep breath and wrote the first line for what would be the cover story of the next Daily Beacon issue.

Junior Allison Argent, 17, died in an unfortunate carjacking incident last fall.

Before I could write any more, I got a phone call from Stiles.

Oh, thank god. “Stiles?”

“Do you want to come with us to Mexico?” He blurted out.

I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled from my chest. “What? Mexico? Why? When–”

“Tomorrow.”

“Stiles, are you insane? Even if I wanted to, there’s no way my parents would ever let me go.”

“We’re all telling our parents we’re going camping, if that helps at all,” he said with what seemed like a hint of disappointment in his voice.

I was quiet for a minute, but my mind was already made up. “Why? And who exactly is going?”

“Scott, Lydia, Kira, Malia, and I have to visit some hunters and see what they know about Derek being missing.”

As soon as he mentioned Malia, my mouth started curling into a frown. It’s not that I disliked the werecoyote, it’s just that she and Stiles had been pretty full on since they hooked up at Eichen and started dating. I wasn’t jealous – though I’m sure Lydia would argue otherwise since she’s convinced I like him or something – just...weirded out by their relationship.

I sighed. “I want to help, but I really can’t tomorrow. School starts back up in a couple days, and I need to finish this elegy for Allison and come up with a bunch of assignments for the staff writers…” I trailed off, thinking about all that I had to do before the coming week.

“Oh yeah, I forgot. Ms. Editor-in-chief over here has a life outside of us,” Stiles joked.

Andrew graduated at the end of last year and left his glittering empire to me, though suddenly I felt overwhelmed at the prospect of running a newspaper while being way too involved in the town’s supernatural endeavors. It didn’t bother me last semester, but after Allison…

“I’ll just see you guys when you get back, okay?” I told Stiles. He made an unintelligible noise of agreement. “And try not to let anyone get killed.” “Yes, mom,” Stiles said sarcastically. I could almost hear the smirk in his voice.

When the pack got back, I was surprised by the events that had taken place. “What do you mean it’s a young version of Derek?”

A few days later, I had to cover the spring lacrosse tryouts. Though I wanted to assign it to someone else, I had to do it myself because everyone was busy with the assignments I had given them.

To my surprise, a new freshman, Liam Dunbar, showed everyone up at tryouts – even Scott. I took note of how he seemed almost athletically superior to everyone, and I wondered if he was supernatural.

“He’s human, I’m sure of it,” Scott said as he came up next to where I was sitting on the bleachers, scaring me out of my mind in the process.

“Jeez, Scott. A little warning next time would be nice. But how do you know?”

He shrugged. “I can just tell. He’s just a really great athlete.”

“He’s going to be a great pain in my ass, I can tell,” Stiles said, sidling up next to Scott.

I took note of their reactions, writing down Scott’s comment – about being a great athlete, not human – to consider while writing my piece.

“Oh no, don’t tell me you’re writing a story about him,” Stiles groaned.

“You know I have to write one about the tryouts, and he just happens to be the star player of today,” I told him. “Sorry, Scott.”

Scott waved me off, but Stiles was still upset about the situation. “No, don’t give him the ego boost! He’s already a little shit, and an article about him would make it worse.”

Taking a break from my note-taking, I looked over at the brown-haired boy. “Stiles, have you even talked to him?”

He looked at a loss for words. “N-not really...but I can see his arrogance from a mile away!”

I rolled my eyes. “Well then, if you’d excuse me, I’m going to write up a fantastic story about a talented up-and-coming lacrosse player.”

The article became the next issue’s front page, but I almost wished I hadn’t given him as much attention when Scott turned him into his beta.

The rest of the year didn’t go as planned either, but isn’t junior year supposed to be everyone’s worst year?

As much as I liked helping out with the supernatural problems Scott and the rest of the pack were having, it was hard knowing about what was going on and not being able to write about it, especially when all of the mysterious killings started up. We eventually found out about the deadpool, but I could write about a kill list of Beacon Hills’ resident supernaturals, could I?

At the end of the year, I finally had to make the trip to Mexico with the rest of the pack. “Stiles, I’m going. You can’t stop me!” I attempted to open the passenger door of the jeep when he reached out and shut it from behind me.

“No, it’s going to be dangerous. We don’t even really know what we’re facing,” he tried reasoning with me. “I can protect myself,” I said, thinking of the training that Allison had given me. “Besides, I can’t just sit by and wait for you guys to come back. I need to try helping Scott.”

Realizing that I wasn’t going to back down, Stiles removed his hand from the side of the door and opened it for me. I nodded a quick thanks as I hopped into the vehicle.

I wasn’t expecting to fight Scott that day, but we all did in order to return him from his Berserker form. At the end of the fight, I had a few cuts and bruises, but nothing I couldn’t deal with.

As Derek drove away with Braedan, I could feel that things were changing. “I can’t write about any of this, can I?” I asked somewhat jokingly.

“Off the record,” Stiles replied from where he stood next to me.

“Stiles, what’s wrong?”

“Oh thank god, you remember me!” He said as he grabbed my hands. He’d been running down the hall frantically when I saw him.

I looked at him with concern on my face. “Yeah, of course I remember you? Why wouldn’t I–”

“y/n, it’s the Hunt. The Ghost Riders. I saw them, and now they’re coming for me.” He was breathing heavily, eyes sweeping the surroundings for signs of the Ghost Riders. His eyes locked on something to his left, but when I looked, I couldn’t see anything. “They’re here. We have to go,” he said, pulling me towards the parking lot. We got into his jeep, but he didn’t start the car. “Stiles, what are you doing?”

“It’s too late.” I could see the look of grief on his face. “No, don’t say that. It’s not–”

“It’s the truth,” he cut me off, turning to look at me. “Promise me you won’t forget.”

I shook my head. “I won’t. But Stiles, I can’t do this without you,” I could feel a tear escaping my eye and slipping down my cheek, my emotions getting the better of me.

Stiles reached forward and wiped the tear away before placing his hand on my cheek. “What do you mean? You’re one of the smartest, most inquisitive people I know. If I had to trust anyone to find a way to stop the Ghost Riders, it would be you.”

I couldn’t help but smile at his honesty. “Yeah right. Lydia will probably figure it out before me.”

He shook his head. “You can do it. I trust you.” I could tell there was more he wanted to say, but he turned to look at something through the window over his shoulder. “Can I tell you something? Off the record.”

I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped my mouth. “Yes, of course. What is it?”

He took a deep breath. “I don’t hate you. I know it may seem like I’ve never trusted you or that I don’t care about you, but it’s actually the opposite. I...really really like you,” he admitted.

I was stunned. Stiles likes me? He was searching my face for any indication of feelings as I sat there silently.

“Oh, shit,” Stiles mumbled. “Ok, forget I said that. Well, you won’t need to forget when you forget me in a minute–”

I cut off his rambling by placing my lips on his. They were warm and familiar, as if they were made for mine. “I like you too,” I mumbled when I disconnected, my eyes still closed from the interaction.

But when I opened them, I was alone in the baby blue jeep.

All semester, I’d felt that something was missing, but I couldn’t figure out what it was. Or who it was.

But after months of searching for it, we finally figured it out. Lydia had gone into a banshee trance to discover the word “Stiles,” and it brought back vague memories for me when I heard it. The feeling of soft flannel. A sarcastic laugh. Red string around my finger. A hefty wooden baseball bat.

The collection of memories made sense when we all finally got our memories back and remembered the person we were missing from our lives.

We traced the trail of clues to the sewers, where Scott tried to bring back Stiles because of their brotherly love for one another. I thought it would work, but the portal closed and Stiles hadn’t appeared. Come on, Stiles. Where are you?

We had to fight the Ghost Riders off, making sure they didn’t turn our beloved Beacon Hills into another ghost town. I’d run into the high school, looking for something to use as a weapon when I ran into someone in the hall. A tall, brown-haired figure wearing a flannel shirt. “Stiles?”

He turned, and smiles emerged on both of our faces. I broke into a run again, right into his arms. “I can’t believe you’re here. You’re really here.” I mumbled, the sound muffled against his shirt.

“I knew you could do it,” he said.

I pulled back slightly and looked up at his face, suddenly nervous. “That night in the jeep...did you hear what I told you before you disappeared?”

A soft smile rested on his face. “Of course I did. It was the one thing that kept me going, especially when I was stuck with Peter.”

“Peter Hale? Why the hell were you with Peter Hale?”

Stiles shook his head. “We can go over that later. For now, there’s one thing I’ve been wanting to do.” I was a little confused, but I understood once he leaned in and connected our lips.

This is what I’d been missing, and I was never going to let it go again.

I watched from afar as Stiles gave his trusty baseball bat to Mason, who didn’t seem to appreciate the hunk of wood.

“Have you told him yet?” Lydia asked as she appeared next to me.

I shook my head. “We haven’t really had time to talk about that stuff. I think he doesn’t really want to think about it just yet and what that might mean for us.”

She nudged me with her elbow, silently telling me to go over there and talk to him. Rolling my eyes, I walked towards the familiar blue jeep and familiar mess of brown hair.

Liam and Mason had already walked away, and Scott and Stiles were standing and talking at the jeep’s trunk. “Hey, y/n. I’m just heading out, but I’ll see you guys later,” Scott said as I came up and Stiles threw his arm around me.

We waved as Scott left, and Stiles pulled me closer. “Hey,” he said, looking down at me with an affectionate expression.

I pulled him over so we could sit in the open trunk. “We need to talk.” I could see the panic flare up in his eyes.

“Oh, um, okay? Is everything okay?”

Chuckling lightly, I nodded. “Yeah, we just haven’t talked about college at all,” I explained.

His head dropped. “Yeah, I know. I just don’t want it to ruin what we have here, and I don’t even know what life will be like outside of Beacon Hills, and I feel like we just got together and now–”

“Stiles,” I cut him off. “I’m going to GW too.”

His eyes widened at my confession. “You...you’re going to GW?”

I nodded, a small smile on my lips. “I committed a while ago. I’m going to study journalism there.”

I watched as a smile spread across his face. Then, it was replaced by a quick smirk. “Oh great, you’re following me there, huh? I just can’t seem to get rid of you.”

I shrugged. “What can I say? I’m going to need someone to give me the inside scoop on the FBI’s antics.”

He looked pensive for a moment. “I think what you’re describing is illegal.”

“Not if it’s in the public’s interest. But maybe it just needs to be off the record,” I admitted. Stiles laughed. “Oh, it’s definitely going to be off the record.”

#stiles stilinski #teen wolf #stiles stilinski fic #stiles stilinski x reader #scott mccall #lydia martin #allison argent #hot take: scott should have brought back stiles in 6b not lydia #teen wolf fanfiction #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinski one shot #dylan obrien #isaac lahey #dylan o'brien

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crackheadgeminibby · 4 years ago

Text

better for you

pairing: chris evans x female!black!reader

warnings: age gap, angst, language

word count: 2.7k

a/n: this lowkey sucks and is very poorly edited, i’m sorry but on the plus side, i surpassed 400 followers yesterday!! so thank you to those 400+ people🤍🤍

i do not consent to my work being copied in any way, shape of form or reposted on any other platform

not my picture

You didn’t consider yourself a jealous person. Much less a jealous girlfriend. Not at all. Never had and you thought you never would.

You had practically raised yourself as your parents had always been more preoccupied with their jobs. You loved your parents, you really did, but when your high school counselor told you that you could graduate high school a year and a half early, you took the opportunity to start college immediately and move out of your parents’ house. This drastic change when you were so young made you become extremely independent. Which is why your relationship with Chris worked almost perfectly. You valued your independence, as he did his, and you respected his independence, as he did yours.

As a corporate lawyer that had multiple firms around the country, you traveled a lot, needing to meet with clients. Chris, as an actor, also traveled a lot.

You both trusted the other without a doubt at the beginning of the relationship despite that Chris was, at first, a little wary of being with someone as young as you. As a 24-year-old, he thought that you should be living your life, partying, sleeping with whomever you wanted without being tied down, but you had explained to him that despite your age, those were not the things that you wanted.

You and Chris were truly made for each other, knowing the other more than they knew themselves. You would even dare to call yourselves soulmates.

Which is why you could not fathom why you were in your current situation.

You had left early in the day for California, where you were overseeing the opening and start-up of your newest firm. Chris, on the other hand, had left 3 days ago to go on some trip his publicist had arranged for him. You hadn’t bothered asking what it was about, assuming that it was about ASP. Plus, you didn’t mind it: he had to do what he had to do.

But now, you couldn’t believe yourself.

You were sitting on your hotel bed, in a white and fluffy robe, fresh out of the shower. Your computer was open in front of you, the TV was blaring the news and you had your phone in your hand. It was almost 11pm but you had been doing this for at least 3 hours. All three electronics were talking about the same thing: Are Chris Evans and Lily James dating??

It was a bit your fault that people gave themselves the right to assume things like that, to be honest, since you had been the one to pressure Chris about keeping your relationship secret. You knew that people would talk and judge you for your 15-year age gap. You, personally, didn’t care and neither did Chris but his career was dependent on his public image and you didn’t want to hold him back, especially not at a pivotal moment in his life like right now.

So, you had agreed on telling your families and your very close friends and Chris had convinced you to let him tell his publicist, Megan. God, she fucking hated you. When Chris arranged for you guys to meet, she had called you “a walking, breathing PR disaster”. You had laughed it off calling her funny, but you knew that she was 100% serious. You really shouldn’t have been surprised that she would do something so fucked up at some point.

A bunch of different news outlets were pumping out new stories every 30 minutes, each article a little more detailed than the previous. It was all over the Internet and it seemed to be the only thing that people cared about today.

Considering the 8-hour difference between London and San Francisco, you hadn’t been able to talk to Chris at all since you got to your hotel. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to talk to him. He hadn’t even tried to talk to you. Why was he avoiding you and acting like he had something to hide?

You’re reading the latest Daily Mail article on your computer about how Chris and Lily apparently got to his hotel in the same car when you hear your phone ring on the nightstand. You don’t even bother looking at the caller ID as you reach for your phone, eyes still glued to your computer and answer,

“Hello?”

You hear a loud exhale on the other end of the phone before you hear Chris’ tired voice, “Baby, hi.”

You tense up slightly before asking, trying to seem nonchalant, “What’s up?”

“Have you watched the news today?”

You bite your lip, thinking, before replying, lying through your teeth, “No, why? What’s going on?”

Chris sighs again before answering, “Nothing, it’s fine. How was your day?”

You roll your eyes. Was he seriously not going to say anything?

“Fine, but it’s really late and I have to get up early tomorrow so good night.”

You hang up the phone before Chris can answer anything. You throw the phone at the end of your bed, frustrated beyond belief.

You continue to read the Daily Mail article as you hear a message coming in. You don’t bother to get up to pick up your phone as you see the message appear on your computer screen a couple of seconds later.

chris💙, 11:01pm:

Good night baby girl. Good luck tomorrow🤍

You groan loudly at his message. Even when he had pissed you the fuck off, his words still brought butterflies to your stomach.

You disregard his message and finish reading the article. You roll your eyes as you close your computer and get up to put it on the hotel desk. As you’re walking back to bed, you take your phone from the end of the bed and put it on its charger, ready to go to bed.

You’re not sure how you manage to fall asleep that night as your mind swirls with unending thoughts.

When your alarm wakes you up at 6am the next day, you feel groggy, having slept very badly last night. Which was to be expected.

You get up and change while eating a protein bar before heading to the hotel gym: you needed to do something to get your energy up. Once you finish your workout, you head back to your room to get ready for the day.

When you get out of the shower, you open your computer and, having left the Daily Mail website open last night, you see a new article posted 2 minutes ago: Chris Evans and Lily James seen on a date in a London park.You groan loudly, closing your computer as you hear that your cell phone is receiving multiple texts.

You reach for your phone on the hotel desk and your eyes widen as you see your lock screen.

5 missed calls

12 messages

You open your Phone app seeing one call from Chris, two from your best friend, one from your brother and one from your mom.

You open the Messages app as a new message from your brother comes in.

will, 7:31am:

When did you break up with your boyfriend? And why didn’t you tell me?

you, 7:32am:

i didn’t

yet

will, 7:32am:

You know i’m gonna fucking murder him right?

You smile fondly at your brother’s concern, chuckling softly as you type your reply.

you, 7:33am:

as you should(:

You open the rest of your messages, mostly asking the same thing. You didn’t feel like talking about it anymore so, you ignore them until you get to your conversation with Chris.

chris💙, 5:22am:

Hey, I’m sure you’ve seen the articles by now.

I’m so sorry

Call me when you can, please. I really need to talk to you.

You bite your lip as you think about what to answer. You didn’t have the energy to deal with this right before your firm’s opening. Shaking your head, you lock your phone, putting it back on the desk, getting dressed.

As you get back to your hotel room, exhausted from your day, you hear your phone signal an incoming text for the millionth time today.

You sigh loudly: you knew it was Chris texting you again. You had been ignoring his texts all day because you didn’t want to get in a bad mood while you were opening the firm.

You put your purse and work bag on the floor, unlocking your phone. You open the conversation with Chris, scrolling through his messages.

chris💙, 6:15pm:

I’m leaving a bit earlier than I planned, I should be home tomorrow morning.

Are you back in Boston or are you gonna stay in LA?

You sigh, feeling guilty that you had been ignoring his texts all day. You start typing a reply, your finger hovering over the send button for a couple of seconds before clicking on it.

you, 6:17pm:

i’m still in san francisco i’m leaving tomorrow morning

As soon as your message goes through, you see the three dots pop up in the conversation.

chris💙, 6:17pm:

Oh my God, hi. Are you okay?

Can I call you?

You chew on your bottom lip: you really didn’t think he was going to answer that fast.

you, 6:18pm:

i’m about to take a shower then i’m gonna go to bed i’m really tired sorry

chris💙, 6:18pm:

Okay, I’m sorry

Good night

You groan loudly. You really didn’t know why you felt so guilty: he was the one running around with another woman. As you think about this, you realize that you didn’t really know who she was.

You shake your head at yourself as you pull up Google on your phone and look for her. You don’t even realize it but, 20 minutes later, you were now at the oldest post on her Instagram.

You curse at yourself, dropping your phone on your bed, and head to the shower.

You stay under the hot stream of the shower for at least an hour before you finally get out, toweling off.

You order some room service for dinner, settling down in front of a random show playing on the TV. After pushing your food around for half an hour, you sigh loudly, put the tray on the hotel desk and get under the covers before finally falling asleep.

You had not slept very well so you had been in a rush to leave the hotel and catch your flight to LAX in the morning. You were exhausted and hungry when you got to your shared LA home with Chris but there was no food in sight, considering that neither of you had been here in a couple of months.

As it was not too late in the day, you decide to take a nap and order some food after.

When you wake up a few hours later, the sun has already completely set and the house is pitch black. You rub the sleep out of your eyes and take your phone before heading to the living room to order some food.

As you enter the kitchen and are about to head to the living room, you hear a deep voice, “Hey, you’re up.”

Taken by surprise, you throw your phone in the direction of the sound and scream, “Holy shit!”

“Ow… What the fuck?”

You’re breathing heavily, clutching your chest as you turn on the kitchen lights, brightness illuminating the area as you see Chris holding the side of his head.

“Jesus Christ, Chris! You almost gave me a fucking heart attack!”

Chris rubs at his head as he looks towards you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Your heartbeat starts to slow down as you roll your eyes.

“What are you even doing here?”

Chris frowns and replies, “Well, you never told me where you were going to be but when I got back to Boston and you weren’t there, I assumed you were coming here.”

You groan silently, crossing your arms over your chest and raising your eyebrows,

“So, London seemed to be very fun.”

Chris shakes his head, looking up at the ceiling, before making eye contact with you, “I didn’t know that’s what the trip was about.”

You chuckle humorlessly, “Really, Chris? Since when do you go on trips, not knowing what they’re about?”

Chris exhales loudly, taking a couple of steps towards you, “I promise that I didn’t know. Megan planned everything and just sent me the info.”

You snort loudly, rolling your eyes. Chris frowns before asking, “What?”

“Megan, Chris? Really? She fucking hates me, of course she would pull a stunt like this.”

Chris frowns again, shaking his head, “What are you talking about? She doesn’t hate you.”

You laugh, this time, actually finding this funny, “Chris, she literally called me a walking disaster.”

Chris struggles to find an answer to that: he knew that Megan used this exact kind of formulation so he couldn’t deny it.

“And you know what? It’s fine. Maybe you really should be dating her instead of me.”

Chris’ face contorts in a mix of hurt and anger, “Why the fuck would you say something like that?”

“Because it’s true, Chris. She’s better for you. She’s actually your age, not a fucking child compared to you. She can give you the things you want from life that I can’t. Maybe it’s better that way.”

“What way?”

You shrug your shoulders, looking at your feet, mumbling, “If we weren’t together.”

Chris scoffs, “You literally have to be kidding me.”

Chris takes large steps, making his way towards you and takes your chin in his hand, forcing you to look at him.

“Y/N, I’ve told you before and I will tell you again. I do not give a shit about your age. And I thought you didn’t either. So, what’s the problem here?”

You bite your bottom lip nervously, “Because what if what Megan said is true? I mean… If people find out that we’re dating, the shit talking would never stop. I can’t do that to you.”

Chris sighs, enveloping you in a hug.

“Baby, it doesn’t matter. None of it matters if we’re not together.”

He lets you go, stroking your cheek, “You’re it for me. There is no one better for me than you. And no one is going to take that away from us. Not you. Not Megan. And certainly not my fans. If they love me as much as they say they do, then they’ll respect you.”

You chuckle slightly, “Chris, I don’t know what kind of fantasy you live in, but in real life, that’s not how things go.”

“Okay, but who cares? There’s two people in this relationship, you and me. Not you, me, Megan and my fans.”

You scoff, mumbling, “Yeah, tell Megan that.”

“I will. The same goes for her. I didn’t know she actually meant those things about you and I’ll tell her that she needs to knock that shit off.”

You sigh, nodding slightly, “Okay.”

“And, baby, I’m sorry.”

You furrow your brows, trying to understand, “I never should have agreed to Megan’s little plan thing. But, most importantly, I should have told you as soon as I knew. It’s just that I kinda owed Lily a favor and she needed this. But it doesn’t erase the fact that I should have been honest with you and I’m sorry I wasn’t.”

You sigh, “I know, it’s okay. I knew this kind of thing could happen when I decided to be with you, and I overreacted a bit so I’m sorry too. I knew it wasn’t true and I should have asked you about it instead of ignoring you. I just… couldn’t let go of the fact that maybe you should be with her.”

Chris shakes his head, “I shouldn’t. And I never will be.”

Chris laughs a bit before continuing, “Sorry, but you’ll have to try harder to get rid of me.”

You laugh loudly, throwing your head back. Looking back at Chris, you smile warmly before hugging him,

“I love you, Chris. Like, a lot.”

Chris chuckles, squeezing you tighter, “I love you too.”

#chris evans #chris evans x black!reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans fanfic #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x woc #chris evans fanfictions #chris evans fanfics

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waitimcomingtoo · 4 years ago

Text

In Case You Don’t Live Forever

~chapter three rewritten~

Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!Reader

Synopsis: you are Peter’s greatest love and Spiderman’s greatest enemy

Series Masterlist

Peter arrived at the Avengers tower with a little pep in his step. His new neighbor was on his mind and he couldn’t get her off. He knew it was a long shot, after all you’d only had one conversation, but he felt like there was a connection between you. You were awkward, he was awkward. What more does a relationship need?

Tony was quick to notice the change in Peters mood. A dreamy smile crept across his face every now and then while Tony was trying to explain something about his nanotechnology.

“Alright Underoos, whats on your mind? A girl? Boy? That gorgeous Aunt of yours? Oh wait no, that’s what’s on my mind.” Tony smirked, making a blush paint Peters cheeks.

“Nothing sir. Sorry, I’ll pay attention.” Peter answered quickly. Tony scanned Peter up and down skeptically.

“So its a girl. Alright. Who is she?” Tony asked, motioning for Peter to sit down with him.

“This girl moved in across the hall from me about a week ago. I’d see her on the stairs sometimes, or in the lobby. She’s beautiful, Mr. Stark. I mean, really beautiful. And I know girls are a lot more than their appearance, trust me, but I can never look away. It’s like God made a perfect batch of cookie dough, and then made a perfect cookie cutter, and then hand made her just for me. There’s just, there’s something about her. I feel like I’ve always known her, and I don’t even know her yet. She knocked on my door this morning and I nearly had a heart attack when I saw her through the peephole. I played dumb and acted like I didn’t know she lived across the hall.” Peter started to explain. A twinge of embarrassment struck him at the memory of what he said to you.

“Oh God. You said something stupid, didn’t you?” Tony inquired, noticing the look of embarrassment on Peters face as he recalled their conversation. Tony leaned on his hands like a child, this stuff exciting him more than anything.

“I insulted her dead father and called him smelly.” Peter admitted, and Tony laughed.

“But she found it funny and agreed with me.” Peter quickly followed up.

“Wow. Normally I’d say there’s no coming back from that, but she seems like a keeper. So, are you gonna throw on your Spidey suit and take her for a ride around the city? Works with all the ladies.” Tony wiggled eyebrows, but Peter shook his head.

“No. Spider-Man isn’t a party trick or some tactic to pick up girls. Plus, I want her to like me for me. That’s why I invited her over for dinner tonight.” Peter answered. Tony looked down at his hands, not wanting Peter to see how proud he was. He couldn’t let Peter get too cocky.

“That was a test and you passed.” To y quipped. “Alright, spider child, you have my blessing. But no funny business tonight. If I find out I’m gonna have to design nanotech baby clothes, I’m gonna be pissed.”

Peter blushed at the mere thought of what Tony was implying and spent the rest of his time at the tower going over missions to get you off his mind.

You arrived at Peters at 6:07. You were done getting ready at 5:45, and sat in the living room on your phone until you were slightly late. You didn’t want to be early, like some loser. Or even worse, on time. You had to be fashionably, but not rudely, late.

You knocked on Peters door at 6:07 and waited. The door swung open instantly, as if he’d be waiting right behind.

“I know what you’re thinking.” He stated. “I’ll let you decide if I was waiting at the door for you or if I’m just really fast. “

He had successfully broken the ice, and you gave kudos to him for trying.

You, on the other hand, were drawing a blank. You had no idea what to say and you were a reporter for crying out loud. You didn’t get tripped up on my words, but something about Peter Parker and that damn collared shirt rendered you unable to formulate a thought. All you could do was stand there and smile at him. You felt like you were standing weirdly and all the sudden had no idea where to put your hands. Do you leave them at your sides? That felt too stiff and soldier-like. But where else would they go? You were pretty sure every brain cell had left your body at that point, leaving you defenseless.

“You look nice.” Peter blurted, interrupting the awkward silence that had settled between you. Even he seemed surprised by his statement. You looked down and shrugged. You looked as nice as a lazy person who didn’t fully unpack their clothes could look. You had on a casual grey dress that was made of some sort of t-shirt material, and your hair was in a loose bun with a few curls framing your face. Peter took in your appearance with what looked like approval. Then you noticed Peters gaze falling to your feet.

“Converse with a dress.” He noted. “Bold move.”

You felt your personality re-enter your body, finally, and nodded.

“Oh yeah. You know me. Quirky and cool and not like other girls.” You joked as you clicked your heels together. “You look nice too. Very…Freddie Benson.”

Freddie Benson? Who the hell makes an ICarly reference to compliment someone? This night was going downhill fast and you regretted ever knocking on his door.

“Dude. You’re tanking.” Venom said in your ear, you had to agree. This couldn’t be going worse.

But lo and behold, Peters beautiful laugh filled your ears once again.

“That’s what I was going for!” He cheered. “My friend Ned always teases me for wearing sweaters and button downs but he just doesn’t have the vision.”

“Come in.” He suddenly stepped aside and gestured inward. “Dinners almost ready.”

Peters apartment looked just like yours, but much more homey. You saw his baby pictures on the wall, coupled with pictures of him and his parents through the years. You noticed a framed picture of a different couple on the coffee table. They resembled Peter but you didn’t see them in any photos with him past the age of around 7. There was a candle next to the frame, as well as a ceramic cross. You quickly looked away, not wanting to overstep.

“You must be Y/N. It’s very nice to meet you.” You heard a woman’s voice from behind you. You turned around and saw a woman in high pants and a yellow tank top, recognized her from the pictures with Peter.

“I am. It’s very nice to meet you too, Mrs. Parker.” You said politely and shook her hand.

“Please.” She shook your hand. “Call me May.”

“May.” You repeated with a smile.

You turned around and saw Peter pulling out a chair for you, so you sat down while May finished preparing dinner. You offered to help, being the polite ass bitch that you were, but May insisted that you were the guest. A plate of “meatloaf” was soon placed in front of you and Peter. The term “meatloaf” is used very loosely. It looked more like an old shriveled brain. Peter made eye contact with you and winked.

“It’s not as bad as it looks.” He whispered. He glanced at May, who was busy pouring the drinks, before leaning in closer and whispering, “it’s way worse.”

You playfully kicked Peter under the table and he giggled, quickly masking the sound with a drink of water.

“So, Y/N, where do you go to school?” May started the conversation. You took a bite of meatloaf, nearly died, and swallowed before answering.

“I’m actually taking a gap year before I start my junior year at Berkeley.” You told her. “And I work part time as a reporter.”

“That’s a very good school.” She complimented. “And I thought you looked familiar. I’ve seen your show on YouTube.”

“I haven’t.” Peter realized. “What’s it called?”

“The L/n Report.” You answered. “I started it my freshman year and it just kinda took off.”

“Oh. I’ve read some of yoru articles, but I haven’t seen the show.” Peter realized. “I can’t believe you do that. That’s really cool. You’re really cool.”

“Thank you.” You winked at him, not used to being praised for your work.

“Peter told me about your father.” May changed the subject. “I’m so sorry to hear that he passed. He left the apartment to you?”

“He did.” You nodded. “And it’s all right. We were estranged anyway.”

“It must be so different living alone in a city.” May sighed. “Did you dorm while at Berkeley?”

“No, I lived with my boyfriend.” You shook your head. Peter began choking on his water at the mention of a boyfriend and May shot him a look.

“Peter. Manners.” She said sternly.

“Boyfriend?” Was all he managed to say between coughs and sputters.

Oh great. Time for this conversation.

“Ex-boyfriend.” You corrected. “I got him demoted to traffic duty for two weeks and he wasn’t too happy about it.”

“He broke up with you over that?” Peter raised an eyebrow. “That’s gotta be the dumbest reason for a breakup I’ve ever heard.”

“May I ask how you got him demoted?” May wondered.

“Well, I’m an investigative reporter, and my ex, Andy, is a cop.” You began. “I looked at some classified files on his computer and used them against someone.”

“Carlton Drake, right?” She realized the story sounded familiar. “I read about that. Your exposé about him was everywhere.”

“Didn’t he die in his own rocket?” Peter asked you, fully invested in the story.

“Yea. I was there. Me and…my friend.” You caught yourself before almost mentioning Venom.

“Gosh I read that story forever ago.” May recalled. “It was all over the news here. I remember Peter ranting to me that this girl was straight out of high school and already taking down shady guys in San Francisco. You were obsessed with the article, remember Peter? I’m pretty sure you hung it up.”

Peter, you guessed it, turned bright red.

“I just thought you were cool. You know, taking down bad guys and all at such a young age. It really inspired me.” Peter explained. He suddenly looked panicked, like he said too much, and you wondered what it inspired him to do.

“Thank you Peter.” You smiled fondly. “How old are you anyway?”

“19. I’ll be 20 on August 10th.” He said proudly. “What about you?”

“He’s legal.” Venom whispered in your ear. You couldn’t even be mad at her, you were thinking the same thing.

“I’m 20.” You told him, and smile crept across his face.

“And this boyfriend, where is he now?” May asked. May wasn’t blind to what was happening between her nephew and this new neighbor and knew that’s what Peter was dying to ask.

“I would very much also like to know that.” Peter said, almost robotically. He leaned in closer and stared at you while he awaited the answer.

“He’s engaged, actually.” You said between sips of water, making Peter sigh in relief. “To a friend of mine. They’re getting married this summer.”

It was the first time you said those words out loud. You didn’t feel sad, like you thought you would. You didn’t really know how you felt. The smile that broke out on Peters face gave a clear indication on how he felt, though.

“That’s great. I mean, not great great. Great for him, I mean. It’s always good to move on. Wether it be with an old friend or a brand new one. Maybe it’s with someone you just met. You never know. Things just happen between the most random of people. Could be a stranger. Or, or, hear me out, it could be less of a stranger. Like a barista, or a mailman or a…a neighbor.” Peter stumbled over his words, the last part coming out very quietly. “I’m sorry that things didn’t work out though. Between you and him, I mean. ”

“Thanks.” You shrugged. “It was tough at first but, I’m okay now. He wasn’t the one.”

“When you do find the one, you’ll know. I knew almost immediately that Ben was the one. I saw him and my heart said “that’s the one you’ve been looking for” and I believed it.” May sighed wistfully. You could see her eyes glistening behind her glasses and did something rather bold. You put your hand on top of hers and squeezed. She gave off this loving motherly vibe that you had only seen in movies but never felt for yourself. May gave you the warmest smile and squeezed your hand back.

“That’s lovely May. Although, I always thought when you met the one, your heart wouldn’t say that it’s been looking for that person. I always thought it would say ‘welcome home’, or something like that. You know? Like, you’ve always known them. I don’t know though. Maybe I’ve just seen The Princess Bride one too many times.” You shrugged.

“Ah. That’s a classic in this household.” May recalled. “Peter would refuse to go to bed without watching it.”

“Because it’s a cinematic masterpiece.” Peter sassed. “You’re trying to embarrass me by pointing out that even as a child I had impeccable taste? Oh please.”

You laughed at his remark, making May noticed the smile that broke out on Peters face when he succeeded in making their new neighbor laugh.

May looked at you for a while with a content smile on her face before saying, “Yeah. I suppose you do have good taste.”

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #iron man #peter parker imagine #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction #peter parker x venom!reader #venom!reader

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dark1k · 3 years ago

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RK1K for the sentence starter "I have passed by many eyes, and experienced many lives, but I only got lost in yours."

Markus was inherently curious.

Even before turning deviant, he realized he had a quiet fascination for the world around him. He questioned everything and absorbed information like a sponge; philosophy, the arts, biology, no subject ever seemed to bore him. Markus craved knowledge and his friends relentlessly teased him for it.

"Thank RA9 we have countless terabytes of storage, or else you'd sacrifice your own basic functions just to learn about color theory!" North jabbed at him one day, Simon chucking beside her and Josh listening with fondness in his eyes. Markus laughed at her joke, knowing they meant well, but the group simply didn't relate to his inquisitive nature towards the universe. Despite the fact that androids are equipped with limitless intelligence and access to such information in milliseconds, Markus believed in learning things "the old fashioned way."

Whenever he had a day off from stubborn meetings and tiresome interviews, he would wander off to the local library, nestled in one of Detroit's many hidden alleyways. It wasn't hugely popular, considering the advancements made in technology, but Markus would spend hours in the small armchair beneath the shop's window reading all walks of literature. Fantasy, historical fiction, romance, he thinks he's read close to half of the books in the library's collection. It was peaceful, serene, and he slowly accepted the fact that he might be the most curious android in the state of Michigan.

Well… that is until he grew closer to Connor.

They became fast friends during the weeks following the revolution. Between discussions surrounding android rights and building a harmonious existence with the humans, Connor was someone Markus appreciated very deeply. Not only was he resolute and quick-witted, both traits needed when trying to negotiate with manipulative politicians, but he was the only person in Markus' personal circle who also questioned everything around him. As a result, they developed a kinship of sorts and spent many hours debating topics from conspiracy theories to decades-old news articles.

"What is your opinion on faith?" Connor asked one day, having caught up him before Markus left for the library. "I was speaking with Hank earlier and asked him, since I've been trying to understand why both humans and androids have such a profound belief in the unknown, but his answer left me with even more questions. He said, and I quote, 'You mean a bunch of wealthy church-goers who sing praise for words written thousands of years ago? Yeah, I never cared for that stuff.' However, I think the idea of faith is so interesting! Did you know that in Medieval Europe, the usage of stained glass in churches was meant to symbolize the gap between the earthly and the divine?"

Markus glanced over as Connor fell into step with him, his thoughts whirling quicker than he could fathom. And yet, his first thought always returned to Connor's eyes – how they shined with interest when the sunlight hit his face just right, and how they looked at Markus as if he hung the moon. Different prompts appeared on his HUD but he discarded them and answered, "If you're not busy, why don't you accompany me to the library and discover that and even more answers to future questions?"

Connor smiled, wide and toothy. Markus thought that no tome of knowledge could accurately describe what effect a smile can have on the heart.

And so they walked along Detroit's river to the library, their knuckles brushing with the swing of their arms. They talked about their own ideas surrounding faith, and if Markus laughed harder than he had in weeks when Connor remarked, "You know, I think I understand why people become so obsessed with faith, considering the amount who believe you to be RA9 incarnate.", then only the birds overhead and the waves beneath his feet could attest to his wheezing breath.

The shopkeeper, an old woman by the name of Dorothy, was overjoyed to see another face in her library. Markus directed Connor to the small religion section and showed him the books he had already read, offering narrations and his opinions on the authors. So caught up in his explanations, he missed how Connor's eyes never leaved his face and how his smile grew softer, completely endeared by the leader's infatuation with learning.

When hours ticked by and the pair had settled on the floor, backs resting against parallel bookshelves and thighs pressed warmly together, the sky outside turned into pretty pinks and vibrant oranges. Their conversation ended some time ago, but the quiet wasn't awkward. No, it was comforting. Like being smothered in dozens of fuzzy blankets. Connor's LED remained a steady blue the entire time and Markus placed this specific outing at the top of his "favorite memories" subcategory in his head.

"So, did you find your answer?" Markus asked as they were leaving, two books about environmental science tucked beneath his arm.

Connor grinned and nodded his head, gesturing to his own selection of books about faith. "The concept of religion is vast, but even I can recognize the beauty behind believing in concepts derived from purity and grace. Maybe the idea is something both humans and androids have in common. But, I did think of another question whilst we were reading."

Markus, giddy on the feelings he felt for the only android who understood his thirst for knowledge, stepped in front and started walking backwards. He opened his arms in a grand gesture and jokingly stated, "And I have an answer! You don't believe I read all those novels and return to New Jericho with nothing to show for it?"

That earned him a laugh, and Markus felt as if the most notorious of composers would fumble in the face of such music.

After Connor's giggles had calmed down, he asked, "Of all the books you read, across every genre and subject, which is your favorite?" And once again, his honey-colored eyes seemed to brighten as he eagerly awaited for Markus' answer, and the stars twinkled within them.

He's read stories spanning between war, animals, baking recipes, and even children's lullabies. He's seen the world through thousands of eyes and lived thousands of existences. But the only one that ever truly mattered to Markus, the one that made him resist every ingrained sense of 'flight or fight', stood before him in this very moment. Connor – one of his closest friends, his most trusted advisor, the one who broke down barriers and joined Markus in the fight that would determine their futures. Dressed now in a DPD hoodie and jeans, the streetlights gave him an ethereal glow and his smile never wavered.

Despite the fact Detroit was bustling with energy, it seemed as though nature stood still and watched these two androids. Two sides of the same coin, joined together in this private corner of the world.

Markus' emotions were running rampant, and he knew he had to confess his feelings (sooner rather than later) before his thirium pump burst out of his chest. If he was a poet, he would write soliloquies about the way Connor made him feel. But instead, he walked back to his side and threw an arm over his shoulder. Connor's hair tickled at his chin as Markus answered,

"Any story that's inspired by you."

#rk1k #rk1000 #dbh markus #dbh connor #dbh #markus x connor #detroit become human #fluff #my writing #this came to me at 2am #them <3

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13uswntimagines · 4 years ago

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Just In Case (Emily x Reader)

Request: Emily x reader where the reader is deployed in to the military and got permission to video call Emily while she is at camp and something happens to the base while on the call and it ends the call with no goodbye and then like the team seeing news articles and trying to get in contact with reader but they can’t and Emily eventually gets notified that’s she’s in the hospital

There was nothing quite like waiting for the little green dot to appear next to your Skype name. The way excitement mixed with anxiety and impatience. How your wife never knew exactly what state you would be in, only that you would greet her with a wide (probably exhausted) smile.

It was rare that Emily actually got to call you while you were deployed. You were the assigned medic to a forward operating special ops unit, meaning you spent more time in the middle of nowhere doing dangerous missions than you did on base. She was excited she’d get to see your smiling face after almost a month (a year since she’d actually seen you in person).

She jumped when the little dot appeared on the screen (much to Lindsey and Kelley’s enjoyment) and clicked on your little icon.

The screen blinked, and your wide smile greeted her. “Hey darling, how’s champ camp?” Your little southern twang came through the computer.

Emily mirrored your smile (your accent always made her swoon just a little), Turning the camera so you could see your two best friends also waving at you. “Super fun. Me and Linds beat Kelley during the scrimmage,”

You smirked at your wife, shaking your head. You knew how competitive they all were (it had led to some very fun game nights at your house- especially with your wife who adamantly refused to be competitive off the pitch). “Bet the squirrel loved that,”

Emily shrugged. “She’s not taking it so well,”

She again pointed the camera towards your pouting sister. You cracked a smile at the woman.

“I’ll get her next time, don’t worry,” Kelley winked at the screen.

You looked off to the side for a second, nodding to whoever was talking to you behind your computer.

Emily wasn’t upset, hell she was more than used to the two of you never really being alone (you were the team leader after all). Instead, she took the opportunity to take in your features. Every new wrinkle of your forehead or dark circle under your eye (that looked more like a bruise or black eye at this point). Was that a new scar you kept rubbing under your chin?

Emily shook her head. She didn’t even want to think about how you got that until you were back safe in her arms. Your job was dangerous, she didn’t need any reminders.

“How are you holding up?” She asked, drawing your attention back towards her. It was a safe question, one she knew she could ask over a live feed. One that didn’t cross any “clearance” lines you had warned her about (though she was sure that your superiors knew you told her many stories deemed classified over the years in the safety of your bedroom).

You shrugged, your crooked smile not quite meeting your eyes. “I’m alright. Super tired. We just got to base a little while ago,”

Your vague answer didn’t surprise her. You didn’t like to worry her, and half of your missions were pretty secretive anyway. It was one thing to share your darkest stories, the things you had seen that you couldn’t un-see, while the two of you were pressed together, and another to try and explain from a million miles away.

Your wife knew how your job weighed on you.

“But you’re ok?” She pressed, unwilling to let you deflect the question. She needed to know. You ran a hand through your tousled hair (one of your biggest tells), leaning forward just a bit. “Just some bruises. Promise.” You paused, leaning forward, your fake playful smile reappearing with a wiggle of your eyebrows, “What about you? Kelley’s a beast on the field,”

Emily cracked a smile, despite her worry. “I’m good babe, but Lindsey’s got a nice one,”

“Ooo let me see,” you said, leaning closer to the screen like a little kid. Emily turned the computer so you could harass Lindsey instead of her.

“No,” the midfielder pouted, crossing her arms.

“Come on, I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” You wined dramatically as Emily turned the computer around and Kelley butted into the frame.

“That sounds like some teenage boy-...” She started, only to be cut off by a loud crash and the blaring of an alarm.

“Fuck,” you hissed, looking off-screen, as more yelling started, and the screen shook.

“Babe-“ Emily said, and you glanced back at the screen as if suddenly realizing your wife was still there.

“I love you Em. I’m sorry I gotta go,” you said quickly, looking directly in the camera.

Then the call ended. The screen went blank and the three women sat frozen. Emily very slowly placed her hand over where your face had been mere seconds ago. “Love you too, be safe,”

The “please,” was softer, almost breathless. And the sound broke Kelley and Lindsey’s hearts. All they could do was hope you would be alright.

****

Emily had learned to not read the news reports a long, long time ago, on your first deployment (back when the two of you had only been dating for six months).

As it turned out, most of the time they had no real information about what was going on. They just reported on the overarching bad thing that was happening, or whatever appeared to be happening, and tended to ignore the boots on the ground (your words not Emily’s).

But still, she couldn’t help but stare at the articles rolling in about an attack on one of the bases near where she knew you were stationed. Especially after the abrupt end to your semi-distracted phone call.

“Em, reading it repeatedly isn’t going to change the words,” Kelley said softly, prying the phone from her grasp and sticking it on the chair beside her.

Emily sighed heavily. “It’s just hard,” she mumbled, scrubbing a hand over her eyes.

Lindsey, Kelley, and the rest of the table nodded understandingly. They may not have the same relationship with you that Emily did, but they loved you all the same.

It was terrifying to not know where you were, or if you were alright, but they had to be strong for Emily right now.

“She didn’t answer your text yet?” Lindsey asked, reaching across the table to grasp Emily’s hand tightly. You might not be able to call, but texting was usually a good way to get a hold of you.

Emily bit her lip, shaking her head tightly. “Nah uh,”

She pinched the bridge of her nose. It wasn’t uncommon for you to go radio silent, especially when you were on a mission, but it had been 4 days since your phone call and You always sent her a little a-ok when you were finished with whatever you were doing. She was starting to get worried.

“What about Kara, she’s always with her,” Kelley asked gently, rubbing her back, mentioning your best friend.

The two of you were practically attached at the hip, but as you always said, experience in a war zone will do that go people. Kara was your right-hand man and always answered Emily, especially when you weren’t.

“She hasn’t answered either,” Emily mumbled, shaking her head. The women at the table all shared a look. The last time Kara hadn’t responded while the two of you were away, you had been stuck doing emergency surgery on one of your guys in the field after an IED blew up one of the hummers in your convoy.

“I’m sure they’re just busy. You know the news likes to make a big deal out of nothing. They always do,” Lindsey said reassuringly.

“Yeah, and no news is good news right?” Kelley added, with a half-smile.

A dark look crossed Emily’s features. She knew (and feared) what happened when things went wrong. She dreaded that phone call or god forbid an officer showing up with your “just in case” letter (one she knew you always carried with you, but she had never physically seen).

“Only until it isn’t,” she said softly, her voice deadly serious. The women at the table sobered and nodded, equally as somber. It was a terrifying truth that was easier to ignore than confront.

“I’m sure she’s just busy being a hero,” Lindsey said softly, leaning over to grab Emily’s hand tightly, as Kelley squeezed the woman comfortingly.

“I hope you’re right,” Emily sighed.

“She promised Em, and she never breaks her promises,” Kelley said, equally as serious, trying to hide just how worried she was. You swore you’d always come back to them, and she would kick your ass if you didn’t.

*****

It felt like Emily’s heart was going to beat out of her chest. It was hammering harder than it ever had, even after a full ninety. She tapped her foot impatiently, waiting for the receptionist to find your room and clear her with the MP’s apparently stationed outside your room.

The second she got the 3 am call, it had been a mad dash to get here. The drive from Orlando to the hospital at the Jacksonville Air Force base was a blur, but she was pretty sure Kelley had broken just about every speed law there was to get her here faster (and to get herself here too, she was your sister after all).

“I’m her wife. I have permission to see her,” Emily growled at the poor receptionist, who continued to rapidly type on her computer.

“I’m sorry miss, but due to the circumstances I have to check,” She clicked her tongue, leaning forward to get a better look at the screen, apparently oblivious to Emily’s growing rage.

Kelley placed a careful hand on Emily’s arm, trying to quell the brewing storm before the receptionist took the brunt of it.

“Fuck the circumstances. Let me see my wife,” Emily hissed, completely ignoring Kelley’s “calm down Sonnett,” (your older sister was worried too, but flipping out at a receptionist wasn’t going to help their cause).

“I’m trying ma’am. We have protocols too, especially after a Rescue and Evacuation,” the woman behind the counter sighed, more frustrated than sympathetic. Emily’s eyes widened. Kara hadn’t said anything about a rescue mission over the phone, only that you were hurt and being transferred to Florida from a hospital in London.

“A what?!!” Emily screeched, and Kelley grabbed the back of her hoodie to prevent her from launching herself over the counter at the frightened-looking receptionist.

Before the woman behind the counter could respond, your very tired-looking best friend appeared around the corner.

“Hey, Em. She’s back this way,” Kara smiled tightly at your wife, nodding towards the receptionist and gesturing down a hallway to her left.

“Oh thank god,” Kelley sighed, practically shoving Emily into Kara’s arms. Kara caught her, and held her hand out to your older sister, carefully beginning to guide them down the maze of hallways.

“I have to warn you, she’s in pretty rough shape,” Kara said softly as they approached the door, her hand pausing on the handle to look both women in the eyes. Emily and Kelley both nodded solemnly, steeling themselves as Kara gently pushed the door open.

“Damn,” Emily and Kelley gasped as they stepped through the threshold and took in your sleeping form.

Your normally strong form looked so small under the mass of tubes and wires surrounding you (but Kelley notes that you were very much breathing on your own). The whole left side of your face was bruised, and the left half of your chest and arm was wrapped tightly in gauze.

Emily very carefully approached the bed, her fingers hovering over your right side, afraid to touch you and cause you more pain.

“Oh baby,” She breathed out, settling into the chair beside your bed, finally grabbing your uninsured hand very gently and pulling it to her lips.

She heard Kelley ask “What happened?”, but her eyes never left your face.

Kara blew out a long breath, seemingly trying to steady herself. “Our base got attacked- retaliation for freeing a village probably,”

Kelley raised her eyebrow at the woman. She wanted to know everything, not the edited version.

Kara swallowed hard before continuing. “We split into teams. One to pull security and one to evacuate the hospital. We lost communication after one of our own went Rogue. In the chaos, an intruder slipped through us and went to attack the hospital wing. Y/n got ambushed trying to get an injured private to the helicopter,”

Silence stretched between them as the soccer stars tried to take in the story. It was so you to do everything in your power to help someone else, even if it was dangerous or detrimental to you.

“How bad is it,” The words left Emily’s mouth barely above a whisper, muffled slightly by your hand still at her lips.

“She got hit 3 times. One was a through and through to the shoulder. It chipped her collar bone, but mostly just got some soft tissue. The other two were worse. The through and through in her leg nicked an artery, and the other one in her chest did some damage. Luckily she was able to drag herself back to the hospital wing and they could get her stable. The PJ’s got her to London and they did emergency surgery,” Kara listed off, rubbing the back of her neck and closing her eyes tightly.

Emily didn’t doubt that seeing you like that was probably one of the most difficult things Kara ever had to do, and she felt bad for making her relive that.

“Is she gonna be alright?” Kelley asked after a few seconds, cracking with emotion.

Kara nodded. “Yeah, Lena looked over the X-rays. Said that she would need a lot of rehab, but she should make a pretty full recovery. Right now she’s just sedated to help with the pain,”

Emily felt her heart unclench at the news, made even sweeter by the mention of Kara’s own wife. Lena was a straight shooter, someone who was brutally honest and equally deft at her job (which was part of the reason the two of you got on so well). She wouldn’t bullshit them and give them false hope.

“Thank you,” Emily croaked. Kara snorted and shook her head.

“Wasn’t me. She promised you she’d make it and she wasn’t about to let you down,”

You had dragged yourself nearly 800 yards to the hospital wing, and the only thing they said you said was that you couldn’t die because you swore to your wife you’d come home. Kara was convinced that you had survived purely on adrenaline and stubbornness (that and dumb luck). At least she hadn’t had to deliver your just in case letter.

Emily smiled softly at your sleeping form, allowing the steady beep of your heart and your warm hand to comfort her “I know,”

It was easy to relax now that you were here safe in her arms. Sure, you would have a long road to recovery (and getting you to actually follow the doctor's orders was bound to be a fight), but you were alive with no imminent threat hanging above your head.

She would be there for you every step of the way.

#uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #uswnt x reader #emily sonnett imagine #emily sonnett x reader

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