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ajbwasntwriting · 4 years ago

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Daughter!Reader X Negan, Reader x Daryl: Chapter 8. Civil Unrest

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For all intents and purposes this is filler so the next chapter will be up in the next few minutes

I’ll only post more chapters if previous chapters get a good reaction so if you enjoy this please heart it, reblog it, and/or reply to it. Interaction inspires.

if you wish to be added to the tag list please dm me. All chapters can be found under the tag AJ’s Negan’s Daughter AU

In a few days you were up on your feet, your need to survive driving your fast recovery. As soon as you could sit up without nearly fainting and you could bend your fingers without much pain you started taking patients. Mainly burns and cuts. You kept your head down while working, adding to your intimidating reputation. They didn’t realise you were just trying to conceal yourself while looking for familiar faces. You rarely left the medical bay, even when it was icy cold.

Carol checked on you regularly, seemingly incredibly concerned for you. It almost pained you to suspect her to be out to get you. Luckily she seemed convinced that because you had been alone for so long that you’d take a long time getting used to the walls. Maybe she figured out that you were just biding time for leaving again.

“Are you okay?” Laura pulled you from your thoughts. You looked up suddenly, nodded, and went back to your reading. All these patient profiles from the previous physician were thorough. “Why would Emmett be this detailed with extremely basic medical care” you tought, then again he was a captive here just as much as you were. He probably had nothing better to do. “Are you sure? You look so serious.” She continued. You looked up to her. She was lying on one of the beds chewing on a piece of hard plastic. Having to keep a watch on ‘The New Doc’ would’ve been extremely boring.

“Just a lot of reading” you sat up and stretched your arms, not realising how long you had sat hunched over the hand-written pages. “Doctors have horrible handwriting and this guy sure likes to drag his point out”

“How bad is it?” She asked. You lifted the profile of another patient and followed along with your finger.

“The left Thenar has suffered tremendous infliction resulting in the loss of elasticity and possible avulsion of the tissue” You read aloud in a dramatic voice

“What?” Laura said, taking the plastic out of her mouth for a moment

“He pulled the muscle in his thumb, possibly tearing it” you flopped the paper down, rubbing your forehead.

“And all those pages are full of that shit” Laura pressed. You sighed with a nod.

“I never thought I’d be grateful to have done AP english.” you sighed

“Okay smart ass no need to show off” Laura chuckled, chewing on the plastic again.

“Please,” you sat back in the chair “My old man made me do it. ‘You already speak english so it should be a breeze’ he said”

“Those kind of parents?”

“You’re familiar?”

“Yep” Laura sat up, hunching over her now crossed legs. “My dad was a lawyer. Mom was an accountant. They kept pushing me to over achieve”

“Bet they weren’t happy with that” you spoke, pointing to your neck to reference Laura’s tattoo. Her hand went over it instinctively.

“I had already skipped town with my boyfriend before I got this.” She laughed. The smile melted away as she slowly stroked her neck. “Hadn’t seen them since. Probably dead.”

The room got a lot more quiet. It was crazy to think you both were so close in age but had gone through so much hell in the same world. But Laura was a saviour. You were Negan’s kid. If you were to be friends it would have to be at an arm’s reach.

The momentum changed when Carol arrived in, holding a small tray with cookies on them. The smell told you they were fresh. Your heart wanted to tell her to get out, but those cookies smelled too damn good.

“How’s the hard work going ladies.” she spoke with a cheery voice, setting the tray down in front of you. You were on it instantly. You took a cookie with you as you limped over to lock the door to the medical bay. “Any news?” Carol whispered

Carol had asked you and Laura to investigate the uprising of Negan supporters in the Sanctuary. Well, mainly Laura since she would know more people in Carol’s eyes. The payment, cookies. Though Laura would probably do it for free. She enjoyed the new peace that came with being aligned with the other settlements.

“Just the usual hot-heads” Laura sighed. You limped back to your chair.

“They like to complain to me.” you gently sat down. You’d only been back walking without the full splint for a couple days now but the clunky half splint on your lower leg wasn’t exactly walker friendly. “‘You should’ve seen how great we were when Negan was running the place’ and other shit”

“What do you think of it?” Carol asks you seriously. You suck the sugar off your fingers happily.

“He mustn’t have been that good if he’s not in charge anymore.”

They had their little meeting then as Carol was leaving you piped up,

“How’s the bridge team?”

“No.” Carol retorted quickly as if speaking to a child. “You are not going out there how many times do I have to tell you.”

“I could help-”

“You’re needed here Y/N” she spoke firmly.

“Yes, mom.” you groaned from your chair, earning a laugh from Laura. Carol left quickly.

“Why do you wanna join the bridge team so badly?” Laura asked through a mouthful of cookie.

“I miss the fresh air, I guess” and there’s more chances to get away from you all.

That evening you were restless. Normally it was the pain that kept you up late but it also exhausted you. You got out of the medical bed you’d claimed as your own, one of three that outfitted the med bay. You limped your way out of the medbay, not bothered if you woke Laura. The bathroom was down the hall so she would just assume you had to pee, especially since you had taken the torch dedicated to midnight bathroom visits. Being the medic gave you the luxury of a torch instead of matches and a candle.

It hurt to climb up so many stairs, with both your wounds and the cold seeping into your skin, but you’d be tired by the time you came back down anyway. You walked onto what used to be Negan’s floor. Your ‘family’s’ floor. You’d wanted to see it for a while now, out of curiosity more than anything else.

You first went to your father’s room. Pushing the door open you felt a burst of cold air whip around you viciously. The room has been stripped of its furnishings, right down to the carpets. Taken away to be burned most likely. The windows were shattered, the bullet holes in the ceiling giving away the method. It was so completely devoid of any sign of human life one would say it always had been. You closed the door and continued onto the parlour where the wives would spend their day. This room didn’t have windows but the room was still completely void of any of the glamour that once adorned it. The only remnants was the wall paper which was peeling off due to the damp.

The image of the forgotten rooms didn’t stir emotion in the way you thought they would. You imagined getting overwhelmed with emotion, but you felt nothing. No that wasn’t right, you felt a loss. Not a loss of the grandeur you had gotten to enjoy in captivity, not a loss of the fake smiles from your many ‘mothers’. You felt a loss of your father. You mourned the man you had called your father, and the idea that all that was left of the memory of him were these halls where cowards bowed to him. You felt an overwhelming realisation that the man you called ‘Pops’ had died long before ‘Negan’ formed.

Your final destination was your room. You figured it would also be empty but your room was a bit away, down the end of a hall few knew how to get too. You’d had more roaches as visitors than people. Your father had chosen it for you so the ‘common nobodies’ wouldn’t see you easily, another measure to keep you safe.

It also worked the other way as you round the corner and see a light coming from what used to be your room. The hall was lined with offices and storage rooms you knew you could dive into if someone appeared so you turned off your light and walked down the hall gingerly on your feet. You were now only a couple feet away from the door when you heard voices coming from the end of the hall, from what used to be your room.

“I still can’t believe they put this bitch here to keep an eye on us. That fucking redneck was an ass but atleast he didn’t pretend to be all fucking nice”

“It’s probably a play to get us to relax. They’ve got us locked in this factory and don’t give us nearly enough food, and they won’t let us go to the other settlements”

“We’re prisoners. They said they only wanted to lock up Negan but now we’re all starving.”

“Enough of your bitching.”

They went on to talk about how many people were on their side and their efforts to get weapons. They clearly had no idea you were listening. After all, what kind of idiot is gonna climb up over ten floors for no reason. Other than sentiment perhaps. It sounded like there were about four people in the room, but they spoke like they had a few under their influence. They were looking for weapons and a means to get back at ‘Rick and his posse’.

“We’ll bring them that bitch Carol’s head on a spike for them.”

“What about the bridge? We got people working there for food.”

“And then what? They’re just gonna keep extorting us for slave labour or let us starve.”

You were so drawn in by their words that the door opening startled you. You charged from your spot into an open room, a storage closet of a sort. You knew it was too risky to close the door so you stood against the wall next to the door. They walked along the hall bantering loudly. You sidestepped deeper into the room, knocking something with your foot making a loud metal sound. The voices stopped and you instantly froze, holding your breath like your life depended on it. A light shun into the closet, then the other way.

“Probably just a rat” one of the voices spoke. “We can set some traps and stew it for dinner”.

They continued down the hall, their steps growing faint a minute or so later. The adrenaline began to subside and the pain from the recent strain on your leg made itself very apparent. You stepped out of the closet and walked down the hall to your old room. Maybe they left some evidence you could use to barter for your freedom.

You opened the door to your room, only illuminated by the moonlight coming from the window. Unlike the other rooms, your room hadn’t been completely ransacked. The mattress had been taken off the frame but the metal skeleton remained as well as the rug under your bed. Other than that it appeared empty. You turned on your torch to get a better view.

On your bed frame lay what had to be near a hundred dead wild flowers. Your breath caught in your throat at the site. You moved and sat on the bed frame, the metal sending a chill up your body. You placed a hand on the dry stems and something hit the ground with a thump. You moved to look under the bed as quick as you could, reaching under the bed you cut yourself on something sharp. You moved your torch on it and grabbed it again, this time from a less dangerous end.

Under the bed you pulled out the knife that had your name engraved on it. The metal shun bright in the light as if lovingly polished until it’s inevitable abandonment. You hadn’t realized you had begun to cry until a tear fell onto the blade and began to fill the engraving.

~Tag List~

@bodeckersbitch @lauren-novak @aestthete

#AJ's Negan's Daughter AU #twd negan #negan fic #negan twd #negan the walking dead #the walking dead negan #negan x daughter reader #daughter reader #daughter x negan #daughter reader x negan #twd daryl #daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x reader #twd carol #carol peletier #the walking dead carol #twd laura

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mannien · 3 years ago

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Mornings in Sheffield Park | TH - CHAPTER 1

The one with stress, takeout food around the world, late night walks, and Disney dreams.

Word count: 6.6k

Warnings: some stress, some anxiety, mention of sex, and a lot of smiles

Masterlist

Fourth week into the morning pitch meetings at BBC, Millie felt lifeless and drained. The room was usually exploding with ideas, creative energy, and a lot of constructive feedback to the few interns who were allowed to join the conversation with editors, writers, and producers. That morning had started ugly enough for her: with an overwhelming number of e-mails about the schedule and missing content for Politics Live.

When she first landed her spot at BBC, Millie was over the moon. She was constantly calling it a dream come true, a once in a lifetime opportunity for her to begin a writing career in media. Her degree seemed to be the best choice for her future and Millie was ready to prove that graduating from humanities can actually land her a decent job. Her first days were filled with morning preparations, early commute to the city centre and exceptionally smoothed out shirts. The work environment in such a fast-paced industry felt inspiring and daunting at the same time, but Millie felt obligated to use this experience to its full potential. Each day she attempted to learn more than the day before and possibly show off a tiny bit more of her creative skills to her superiors. She spent her evenings researching topics and people, trying not to fall out of the loop. Being one step forward was hard work, one that Millie desperately wanted to ace.

The second week of her internship brought a slight shift to her agenda. After grasping the general concepts of working for a major radio and TV broadcasting company, she was aware of the production processes. She tried to happily follow up all the details about the work of a writer, a researcher, or an editor – just so she could be prepared for the follow-up of the introductory week. And as she hoped her interview was remembered and she would soon contribute to any program touching upon music or pop culture, her dreams and calls were slowly fading away. The intern manager ascribed her to the team devoted strictly to politics and daily news, having no vacancies for the popular radio programs. Even though she took whatever spot was offered, it was only to get more insight and experience.

Having already managed to speak up a few times during the morning routines in the conference room, Millie eased herself into the work environment and was treated like a regular employee. But the first wave of success quickly passed, especially when she was hit with growing emptiness in her brain. She did not enjoy politics, so as far as she could, she attempted to sneak in a sociological aspect into the context. But her tactic had an expiration date.

A couple of heads were expectantly turned at Millie when she was unsurely stuttering her weak ideas for the upcoming programme. She knew it wasn’t going well and she was mentally cursing herself for trying to impress the producers that much so early on.

“This isn’t gonna work. We’ve covered this enough in the evening news. Let’s take five, and maybe you’ll come up with a different angle. I’ll give you another shot here.”

Hugh, the head writer took off his glasses and watched her fidget in her seat. She nodded and took a deep breath, before leaving the room for a short break. Her mind was racing in panic; she wasn’t ready to admit that she didn’t have any idea. She walked back and forth through the corridor until she cursed quietly and walked away to the main hall. She pulled her phone from the back pocket and without overthinking this anymore, she called her boyfriend. He picked up after the third ring.

“Babe, can I call you back…”

“No, Frank,” She felt determined and fierce. Her hands shook from the pure view on board members slowly coming back from the kitchen with fresh coffee mugs. They were probably waiting to hear her another take on the TV show which Millie, wholeheartedly, was beginning to hate. “My work on the programme is too basic and I’ve been roasted for the past fifteen minutes or so. Hugh has me in the spotlight in front of everyone. Help me, please?”

“It’s not your fault they’ve given you a job you’re not good at, babe. It’s just an internship, they will roast you anyway.”

Millie’s lungs were ready to stop working and suffocate her. She feared she might start hyperventilating, or at least meet up with a panic attack from the nerves. Franklin’s reaction seemed to be absolutely unfair and inconsiderate of her actual feelings, and he must have felt that through the piercing silence on the line.

“Look, I’m sorry, but you shouldn’t worry so much about it. They will probably just give you another placement where you’ll fit more, I don’t see why it’s such a bad thing.” And just like that, she started doubting herself and her right to overthink her situation. It didn’t sit well with Millie and she could feel anger slowly making its way through her veins.

“Can’t you just fucking help me? This one time?” She lost her temper, she lost her patience. At the same time Riley, one of the end writers, started waving at her from the end of the hall as to show her that her time is coming to an end. “I need a hook, or something that would spark a debate. Brexit-themed, maybe. Can you think of anything?”

Frank groaned loudly. He wasn’t exactly happy that she made him break down his ambitious wall and let her in on topics he was too invested in. Millie could hear him moving around as he left his desk of the equally large office of The Guardian, until the line went surprisingly quiet. Her anger and fear made her clutch her phone tightly to her ear, while her legs started carrying her slowly to the terrifying conference room.

“Think internationally. See what the Spanish had to say about May’s resignation from the Office. Think economics in the EU. Try to stand on the Union’s side and do some fair judgement.”

“Give me facts, not ideas. You’re the one who knows politics.”

“Spanish government says that May’s resignation is bad news. Compare it to the popular opinion that she was the worst Prime Minister since the 18th century and the American war on independence.” Millie breathed in, trying to desperately grasp all the details he just provided her with.

“That’s a… harsh and history-digging argument,” She mumbled in surprise, “where did you get that from?” She grabbed a yellow post-it note from the reception desk and quickly scribbled the key words on it. Her briefing on politics was never something like this and she could feel the embarrassment making its way into her heart. It wasn’t her way of thinking and she felt like a fraud.

“I can’t tell you that.” By the end of the single sentence Millie could feel the blood escaping her face, making her look pale and scared for dear life. She didn’t want to have heard that sentence, she was definitely happier not knowing how did he come up with a story like this. That was one of the many reasons she tried not to talk business with him.

“An opinion entry. A column for The Guardian. Shit, you just busted one of your colleagues.”

“Sometimes I hate it that you’re smart. Did I ever tell you that?”

“You just saved my internship!”

“Please don’t say that. I will pretend that we just talked about the weather.”

“I’ll spend them the details. You’re the best, Frank.”

“Alright, go kick ass.”

And that she did. Franklin did save her internship, mainly because Millie avoided the specifics about who and why said something so harsh about the resigning Prime Minister. However, it definitely did spark interest among the production board. Afraid of not being so lucky next time, she decided to politely suggest a replacement for her permanent internship division within BBC, due to her ‘personal discomfort with discussions over issues of such importance and potential shame to their glorious country.’

Millie felt bad for using her boyfriend’s knowledge for survival at work. She wasn’t genuine and her idea didn’t come from her hard work - it was sourced in fear and anxiety-driven reactions. This situation proved to her that she wasn’t fit for the position, but it also raised her stress levels around the fact that she couldn’t get by on her own in the industry. She didn’t want others to navigate her through it all, but the conversation she had with Frank had also made her uncomfortable. Her need of support in a stressful situation was primarily turned down, so—naturally to her character—she started to worry even more.

With a heavy heart and two bags of Wagamama takeout, she walked up the stairs to his apartment. She was usually working until later hours than Frank, so all she really needed was for him to open the door for her. She leaned on the doorframe as she waited patiently for the two turns of the lock. He opened still in his work attire – tailored jeans and a light grey button up shirt. He was holding his phone next to his ear and humming approvingly to the speaker when he looked her up and down. He winked at her and let her in, as he continued to talk with someone.

Inside, Millie found the TV turned on with a football game playing. His work jacket was still hanging on the back of the tall stool in the kitchen, and the grocery bags laid unpacked on the table. She took off her shoes and made her way to the kitchen, where she made a little room for their food on the countertop. Pulling off her sweater, she peeked into the shopping bags – she wasn’t surprised to find a couple bottles of beer and food essentials, a multipack of tissues and a large box of condoms.

“What’s all this, babe?” Franklin came up to her and briefly kissed her on the lips, before looking into the boxes with deliciously smelling food.

“I just thought it might be nice to eat some goodies,” She smiled, trying to sniff out his mood first. He smiled back at her with approval and reached for the plates in the cupboard, so she continued, “also, it’s a ‘thank you for being my saviour today,’ kinda thing.”

“Ah, yeah. I bet everyone on my floor will hate BBC’s guts for that.” Frank said it so casually, with a shrug to follow up, that Millie struggled to understand the dynamic he had at The Guardian. He seemed to be a great fit for his team, because a week into his new job, he was already invited for Friday drinks and talked about his co-workers just like anyone would about their long-time friends. She couldn’t understand how was he getting so lucky at any step, but the last thing she wanted to do is doubt him. Any time worries and competitiveness clouded her brain, Millie was making extra room for compassion and support.

Frank unloaded some of the curry on his plate and started eating with a fork, and then made his way to the living room where he spread out on the sofa. He didn’t say anything else, somewhat scaring Millie that he will let her know he’s uncomfortable randomly, on a promisingly good day. Trying to figure out her brain, she followed his actions and took some extra food to the coffee table, before sitting down next to him.

“But you’re not gonna get into trouble for that, are you?” she was biting the inside of her cheek hard, definitely not used to not being judged for using someone else’s help.

“Nah, I don’t think so. They don’t know I’ve got a girl at BBC, so I should be just fine.”

Millie ate her curry in silence, suddenly at loss of words driven by his surprising statement. She didn’t want to raise an argument or seem overly sensitive. But for some reason she hoped that he would talk about her at work, especially considering his already formed strong bonds in the office, and a definitely higher success rate in his position. Ever so charming Franklin, he always glowed among people. She couldn’t really fight with this, so she just kept any comments to herself and focused on her food.

Frank switched the channel to the evening news and pulled her to his side once they were done eating. It comforted Millie to know that at the end of the day, they could both enjoy each other’s company, no matter what was happening at work. She didn’t pay much attention to the news, but rather focused on the way he reacted to it and what he enjoyed. She felt too tired to get invested in another load of politics, so she just soaked in his warmth and curled more into his side. He smelled of coffee and heavy, musky cologne that he liked to reapply frequently. Millie closed her eyes and breathed out the stress that weighed her down after a long day, finally finding peace.

“I’ll go grab a beer, you want one?” he abruptly stood up, making her slightly loose her balance and lean back towards the pillows. She closed her eyes and pressed her lips in a thin line.

“I’m good, thanks.”

“You sure? You’re awfully quiet today.” He spoke already from the kitchen, not even catching a glimpse of her pursed lips.

“I just need to wind down. It’s been stressful day.” She pushed a little smile on her cheeks as he came back with a frown. He took a few large sips of his drink and put it on the table, before lowering himself on the couch and leaning over Millie.

“I can help you relax, if you want.” He raised an eyebrow in a flirtatious manner, leaning into her and leaving a series of delicate kisses on her lips. He then moved onto her jaw and sucked on her skin, but never left a mark. Slowly massaging her waist, he slid his hand under her shirt and sprawled his fingers across her hip to pull her closer.

Millie enjoyed the warmth that started to spread through her body, but she couldn’t find any energy to give some of it back. She felt drained and exhausted, so a mere thought about participating in sexual activities was sure to make her at least slightly uncomfortable. Unless Frank was willing to change something about it.

“Okay, hold on,” her chuckle and a light push at his chest made him narrow his eyebrows in confusion, “I don’t think I’ve got enough energy today, Frankie.” Her whisper was followed by a reassuring smile. She weaved her fingers through his short hair and kissed the tip of his nose.

“What if I provide you with some energy first?”

“What, you’ll give me an energy drink?” She laughed at her poor joke and he chuckled, too, but more at her silliness than anything else. He laid her down comfortably and cautiously peppered her with kisses on her neck and the tiny bit of cleavage that was available without unbuttoning her shirt. She was slowly giving in, allowing him to get lower on her body and touch her. Frank either wanted to make her feel better, or was really horny. But whatever the case was, she didn’t want to stop him and ruin his enthusiasm. The glow in his eyes and admiration painted across his face were too intoxicating to back away. His touch was filled with sparks of emotions and a kind of drive that Millie was addicted to. She felt wanted and needed, and that’s what made her return the heated kisses despite her hooded, weary eyes.

They walked hand in hand through the chilly evening, sometime after she persuaded Frank to walk her to the nearest tube station. The wind was slightly tickling her neck, but other than that she felt at peace. She let her hair down, flowing gently with each blow of the air and lightly caressing her face like a safety blanket. They swayed their hands until they had to make room for a group of people passing by.

“Jane texted me about a little get together this Friday,” She mumbled into the night, trying not to disrupt the peaceful atmosphere around them.

“Ah, yeah. Aaron told me about it, too. I guess we’re going, right?”

“Yeah, it might be nice. The girls mentioned this new club near their apartment? I think that’s where they wanted to go.”

“Cool. I could use a little break.”

As they continued their walk, Millie mostly focused on leading the way through tight London streets. Franklin’s parents rented him an apartment in the city centre, close to everything you could dream of in London. It also meant crowded streets at any hour, so to have a nice walk around the neighbourhood usually requested it to be late at night. But it didn’t matter to him, as long as he had a short commute to the office and all other things that life requested from him, within reach. There were times when he would mention coming back to Manchester and supporting his parents at their law firm, but Millie saw how much he preferred his growing career as a journalist. Mathilda and William were a generous couple, so they shared their resources with him and tried to help him get into the business as smoothly as possible. Sometimes she wanted to ask him about his permanent position at The Guardian and whether his name had anything to do with it, but she never felt comfortable enough to do it. Some things were better left unspoken.

Reaching the staircase to the station, Franklin stopped and made her turn to him and look up at his smiling face.

“Thanks for coming over tonight. I had fun.”

“Yeah, me too.” She smiled shyly, nodding her head in reassurance.

“I wish you could finally move to the city, though. It would be so much easier if you were a few blocks away.”

“You do realize that even if I moved out, it wouldn’t be anywhere nearby?” Her chuckle resonated through her body, almost as if she wanted to humour herself at the topic that had started to come up more often in their conversations.

“I could ask around the office if anyone has a room available to rent.”

“But I don’t want to share my personal space with strangers, you know this. Don’t try to change my mind about it.” She smiled tightly.

Frank has been trying to persuade her into moving out for months. He wanted to be closer to her, within a short train journey, rather than a whole commute in and out of Kingston. He felt comfortable in the business of London, and Millie liked to call him out on being spoiled by having an apartment on his own in such a lively part of the city. But she wasn’t financially ready to leave her family home in equally comfortable Southwest London, where she had all she needed within her reach, and her social life was just a tiny bit longer train trip away. It was a source of their small disputes from time to time, because it was Millie who spent more time on going to his place and spending time there. Naturally, it made her feel more engaged in their relationship and Frank tried his best make up for the difference. But one thing that never occurred, was Millie staying over for longer than a night. Even a night’s sleepover was a rare event, somehow always blessed by excuses from either one of them.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” he pecked her lips and brushed her cheek with his thumb. “I talk about it out of concern, okay?”

“Okay. But I like my train rides and I like Kingston. So let’s just deal with it for now, yeah?”

“’Course,” He sent her a tight smile before giving her one last kiss. “Text me when you get home.”

“Will do.”

Millie was one of those people who could be easily judged as thinkers. Years of taking trains and buses in and out of central London taught her to cherish every moment of peace she gets during her journeys. That’s how she learned to create playlists for each season – summer commutes were always different than autumn ones; they required different sounds and lyrical quality. Intense months during university semesters also showed her how to read fast between the stops and how to juggle standing on the tube and holding an open book without falling, as the train slowed and rushed every few seconds.

As she was approaching her station in Kingston, she stopped the music but kept her earphones in. A bunch of other people was hurrying to get out of the train and get home as soon as possible, but after leaving the station, she would have a lonely 15-minute walk to her neighbourhood, so she always tried to stay alert in the evenings. Getting on the sidewalk in the busiest area of Kingston, she closed her book and put it back in her backpack, pulled the jacket tighter around her middle and continued her steady walk.

The air was getting crispier with each minute outside. It was refreshing and calm, disturbed only by a few laughs from the pub across the street and two cars passing her by. She turned into one of the quieter streets, where the buildings were becoming shorter and more separated from each other. Brick fences and trimmed hedges adorned the concrete sidewalks on both sides of the street, illuminated only by a few lanterns. Most of the light was coming from the windows in a row of semi-detached houses that Millie has known for a good chunk of her life.

Right when she wanted to cross the street and take a right, she heard a subtle clicking of a dog collar and a leash. Soft padding from the back was slowly approaching her and becoming louder, as well as someone’s whistle.

“Tess, come here!” a hushed call didn’t disrupt the peace of the night, but rather added the familiarity that Millie adored. She slowed her walk and turned around, just in time to be met with lightly jogging blue Staffordshire Bull Terrier. She panted lightly with her tongue out and reached Millie’s legs, where she tucked her head and mewled timidly.

“Oh, and who do we have here?” Millie chuckled at the dog’s persistence in keeping close. She scratched her head and patted her on the back, “are you on your evening walk, Tessa? Is that right?”

“We didn’t mean to scare you, Millie,” Dominic reached them and sent Millie a kind and apologetic smile, “good evening.”

“Hi, it’s good to see you.” She beamed at the middle-aged man, whom she learned to adore like a family member.

“Likewise, yeah. Heading home?”

“I am, just got off the train.”

“We will keep you company, then. Is that alright?” He fixed his glasses and leaned down to attach the leash to Tessa’s collar. Millie’s insides warmed and her mind calmed down at the idea that she will get to spend a few minutes with a friend.

“Absolutely, thank you.”

“Ah, don’t mention it. I bet Tom would have my head, hadn’t I offered,” they chuckled at the mention of his son. Their laughter died off comfortably and escaped into the night air, while Millie reminisced about the caring nature of the Hollands. “How is it going at BBC?” he asked after a moment, letting her go first through a narrow passage.

“It’s… going,” she smiled shyly, not sure how to dress up her words. In Dominic’s company she always felt one step behind in her creative skills; his writing and comic abilities exceeded her capabilities, or so she thought. “but I feel like I’ve definitely hit an end with politics. I know it’s only been a month, but it’s just… it keeps on proving that I should be writing about something else.”

“Oh, it’s totally understandable. Rest assured, you’re not the only one stuck like this,” They turned the corner onto her street. “but I wish you luck there. They have some sensible editors, so I assume you’ll get a chance at something else as well.”

“I hope so. Today I asked them about switching departments and the intern manager told me she will think about it, so there is a tiny light.”

“Something will always work out. You’re smart, you’ll find your way there.”

Dom and Millie continued down the sidewalk, until Tessa stopped near the gate to Millie’s house. She sniffed the pavement and turned back to the girl who crouched down to pet the Staffy one last time.

“Thanks for walking with me,” her smile was genuine, coming straight from her heart. “please say hi to Nikki and the boys. Is Sam still home?”

“He is, he starts his practice at the end of June. So, we all will be here to celebrate your birthdays.”

“Oh, that’s great! It’s been a while since we’ve all been together.”

“That’s true. But you’re welcome to stop by anytime.”

“I know, thank you.” With fondness painted across her face, she scratched Tessa’s ear and stood up straight, reaching for the keys in her pocket.

“Have a good night.”

“You too. Bye, Tess!”

Whenever she got the chance to interact with someone from their family, Millie instantly felt their love and care penetrate her straight to the core. It was this kind of relationship that had been built through the years, only making it stronger and bringing it closer to the concept of family.

Nikki, Dom’s wife and Anna, Millie’s mother met shortly before Millie and Tom were born. At first only neighbours, soon they became best friends to the point of engaging their families in a kind affair. Greetings at the doorstep turned into late night family dinners and weekends away with the kids. They were used to spending most of the birthdays and holidays together, especially when Millie and Tom’s birthdays two days apart brought them all closer. She raced her best friend in Anna’s womb and came out to this world right before the brown-haired boy. Ever since the Beavers celebrated the birth of their third and youngest daughter, the Hollands began their journey with four boys. They always stayed close and treated each other like family, deeming it necessary to nourish their friendship and turn it into something everlasting. The example of their parents taught Millie and Tom to mimic the closeness and made them create their own little world.

Millie’s older sisters also treated Tom, Harry, Sam and Paddy like brothers, but not as much as Millie did. Samantha and Liz were already grown toddlers when the families got together, so they figured more as the female patrons of their youngest sister and her adventures with the boys. But Millie and Tom’s friendship turned into something so effortless and harmless that no supervision was necessary. They were each other’s partners in crime, best friends from next door. Their mothers had signed them up for the same dance classes, helped them get to the same summer carnivals, and let them have late nights in makeshift dens. Millie was one of the first people their dog, Tessa, got familiar with. She missed him dearly when he started his journey as a young actor, but Nikki made sure he always made the time to call his best friend when the time zones were somewhat cooperating. They nurtured their friendship through Millie’s education and Tom’s career, not stopping even for a moment. He was there for her always, carrying her home when she scratched her knee after falling off the slings. She would help him with homework whenever he felt too embarrassed to ask his parents. Tom escorted her home from her disaster of a prom; he was the first one to understand her anxiety and help her through it. And Millie always read the books and scripts Tom needed to prepare for auditions. Just like that, they always found home in one another.

Their house smelled of baking and freshly watered plants. As quietly as possible, Millie took off her shoes and tip-toed into the kitchen, turning on only the least invasive, small lights. She put down her backpack and lightly stretched, letting out a tired, yet content breath. Her eyes scanned the kitchen in search for the source of the sweet scent, and there it was, on a cooling rack in the corner, covered with a tea towel – fresh lemon sponge cake, the favourite of Millie’s mother. Lightly dusted with powdered sugar, it added an extra layer of sweet comfort to the late night’s atmosphere. She left the cake untouched, but put the kettle on to quickly make herself a cup of tea for a good night’s sleep. She let out an overwhelming yawn and rested her hips on the side of the countertop, patiently waiting for the water to boil.

She felt her phone vibrate in the back pocket of her jeans. The brightness of the screen was almost blinding, until it adjusted to the low lighting in the room. She could feel the anticipation growing in the back of her head as she noticed a new message.

(Tom) I got you something today

After a second or two, a picture loaded under the message. Millie gasped and smiled like mad, when he showed her a pair of Minnie Mouse sequin ears. It was an artefact that Millie has always dreamt of, not having an opportunity to go to Disneyland ever in her childhood. She awaited the chance with high hopes and wandering mind, but she knew the trip had to be thorough, well-planned, and wholesomely happy.

(Me) You were in Disneyland????

(Tom) yeah we did promo for spidey today

(Me) I’m so jealous rn

(Me) THANK YOU FOR THE EARS!!!!!

(Tom) it’s alright

(Tom) I didn’t get any weird looks at all

(Tom) Just casually carried around this shiny sparkling beauty

(Me) I bet you loved this feeling

(Me) I bet you bought yourself a pair too

(Tom) Don’t tell anyone

(Me) You could always pretend they’re for Tessa

(Me) I just saw her and your Dad btw

Whenever her and Tom texted, it always sparked a never-ending conversation about sweet nothings. They mocked each other, talked about their days, spoke about all things home. It allowed them a safe space from their daily hustles; Millie was able to breathe lightly and happily, and Tom had a chance to detach from the world he desperately tried not to drown in.

Almost spilling the tea, she slowly made it upstairs without losing the sight of her phone screen. She struggled to turn off the lights in the corridor without making a noise but somehow, she managed not to disturb her parents too much, as she reached her bedroom. Safe within her own little space, she put down the mug and let go of her backpack and jacket. She threw herself on the softest bedspread and waited patiently for Tom’s reply.

The text bubble stopped and a massage didn’t appear, but her phone started ringing. Millie answered the FaceTime call and waited for the camera on his phone to adjust and show his familiar face.

“I had a meeting with Disney and they want me to participate in one of their projects for a Marvel-themed ride at Disneyland,” from a crooked angle she could see his neatly gelled hair and uneven eyebrows. Tom was walking somewhere, but then sat down and perched his phone on the mug that stood on the coffee table, so that she could see him better.

“That’s exciting, right?”

“Oh, yeah!” She could see him rummage in a brown paper bag and pull out a box with some takeaway food. “But I’m telling you this because we could turn it into our Disneyland trip that you’ve wanted, right?”

“That would be nice, yeah.” She smiled back at the screen, but a terrible yawn sneaked in to her expression. Tom scrunched his forehead and took a large sip from a bottle of water.

“I didn’t wake you up now, did I?”

“No, I just came back home. I am tired, though.”

“Yeah? How was work?”

“Stressful and not nice. It wasn’t a good day.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Wanna talk about it?”

Tom spent the next minutes carefully listening to her words and trying not to spill his soup on his fresh clothes. He hummed to some of the stories and asked little intrusive questions, to get the whole picture. She kept rubbing at her eyes and stifling her yawns every now and then, at last making a mess of her mascara and getting it all over her skin. Despite the seriousness in her voice, Tom smiled fondly to himself at the view of her ruined face that probably mimicked her current mental state. It wasn’t something he should laugh about, but it was rather endearing to have her so comfortably sharing her lows with him, while he casually ate his lukewarm, very late lunch.

“Why are you laughing at me?” She returned his smile, knowing it was probably something she did.

“You made yourself look like panda.” He chewed on a chunk of chicken from his second plate. The wrinkles by his eyes deepened with each of her chuckles and proved to them that this is the lightness they need in their daily routines. “Well, it’s good you asked for a new placement. You should be comfortable in your work environment. I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks,” she yawned again and stopped herself mid-rubbing her eye again, earning a wholesome, groggy laugh from her friend, “your dad thinks they will give me another chance.”

“I mean, he knows some people there, so he probably has a point.”

“Yeah, I just don’t want to get my hopes up too high, you know?” A comfortable silence rested between them after he nodded and continued munching on his food. Millie stood up from her bed and took the phone with her, but also started to slowly get ready for the night.

“You will know when the moment feels right and shows you something worth a shot. Trust yourself, Mills.”

“I guess…” she trailed off, making her way to the closet to find fresh pyjamas. “I’m glad my panda face entertained your… what is it, lunch break?”

“Sort of, yeah,” he chuckled, enjoying the playfulness of her tired self, “I should be coming back in two weeks. We could hang out then, if you’ll have the time.”

“Oh, for sure.”

“Alright, I’ll let you rest. Text me anytime, yeah?”

“I will. Thanks for the Minnie ears!”

“You got it, Minnie Mouse. Sweet dreams.”

* * *

After her little mishap with Politics Live, Millie tried her best to keep up the hard work, but stay low. She tried not to focus too much attention and just assist other workers in their tasks, only coming up with ideas when necessary. She strived to come back to her public voice, but she knew she needed it to have a comfortable outlet, preferably in another setting and on different topics. She was greeting the intern manager with additional caution and kindness, trying her best not to leave her case forgotten.

Segregating files for the research team seemed to be the best solution to her temporary creative break. Her attention to detail and wholesome care about the task being done to its full potential came in handy. She volunteered to help the group of meticulously scribbling and researching men in keeping their documents in order.

The soft mumble of the radio in the background was interrupted by a guy named Tim. He always wore rock band t-shirts under his jackets and Millie swore she had seen him participate in a wild dance routine during the last year’s Glastonbury Festival. He stopped typing on his keyboard and started to quietly hum a song that was definitely different to what Scott Mills was announcing on Radio 1.

“Oh my God, do you guys know this song? I can’t get it out of my head!” he groaned in frustration, making a few people in the open space office chuckle.

“Do you know any words, maestro?” Millie’s head snapped up at the sound of Kim, the intern manager’s voice. She was passing by with a bunch of files and a coffee, before she perched herself on his desk, obviously making fun of her friend.

“It’s got this very cool, mariachi-like trumpet between the lines,” he mimicked a trumpet player and hummed some more, “and the guy sings something about stopping a feeling…”

“Justin Timberlake?”

“You know he’s not my jam, Kim! It’s an old-school song.”

“You’re the old-school one here.” Kim’s comment earned a couple more laughs at poor Tim, who was genuinely struggling. “you’re the researcher, have you googled it?”

“Of course I googled it, stop mocking me! People are watching.”

Their little light-hearted exchange brought a breezy atmosphere to the office and made Millie smile some more. She kept on looking up at Tim to check if he’s found the song he was looking for, but without luck. Her fingertips started to tingle with each swipe through the pages in a file, because she felt like she knew the song. Deciding to come against her decision to lay low, she gently cleared her throat and swallowed her nerves of speaking up in a new environment.

“Hey Tim, have you tried to find it on Spotify?” they both looked at Millie with playful smiles, as anyone would to the up and coming intern fresh out of university.

“I don’t think it’s the title of the song, so I won’t find it there.”

“But you actually could,” she offered, biting her lip nervously “since the recent update, you can now type in the lyrics into the search bar and the results will show you all licensed songs with the same or similar lyrics.” Tim instantly reached for his phone and started typing away.

“Oh really? I didn’t know that, let’s see…” Kim looked into his phone and watched his progress.

“And since you’ve remembered a catchy verse, it’s very possible that others also tried to find this song through the same words. So, it will probably come up within the first few results.”

“Alright, smarty.” He shook his head in amusement. Millie watched as Kim’s face got ridden of any emotion and just stared at Tim’s work.

“But if nothing comes up, you can always try ‘Hooked on a Feeling’ by Blue Swede.”

Millie waited with racing heart at their reactions. Tim clicked on one of the results and raised the volume, filling the room with a sound so familiar to Millie’s memory. She smiled shyly and internally patted herself on the back, before coming back to her task.

“How did you know this song?” His triumphant smile was radiating, as he did a little dance in his seat and twirled on his rolling chair. “It’s such an old tune, I didn’t think your generation would know it!”

“Yeah Millie, how did you know?” Kim encouraged his question and watched her carefully, almost as if she was studying her intern.

“It’s in the soundtrack to Guardians of the Galaxy. I wrote a paper on it.”

“Hm.” Kim’s unreadable expression was giving Millie chills, but in a positive way. She liked to be asked about things that interested her and prompted her to be creative, so the way this situation evolved was close to burst her heart into passionate flames. “I’ll ask the Radio managers if they want a music and pop culture geek, how’s that sound?”

It sounded like Millie put the trust in herself at the right time.

****

tagged: @peeterparkr @katieraven @kozybear@sunsetholland @hey-marlie @lauras-collection@cunaeparker @constellationsv @heyhihellowhatsup0 @spideyspeaches

If it bothers you that you’re tagged, please let me know!

#tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fluff #tom holland x oc #mornings in Sheffield park #misp #tom holland fanfic #tom holland blurb

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thearcana-junkie · 5 years ago

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Muriel X Pregnant MC

————————————-

Though this says "Pregnant" and I'm using the female Autonomy the gender it's self can be whatever you like.

————————————-

Muriel and you had been dating ever since the whole Lucio thing, You guys even moved in together; His place of course. While you guys eventually got more acquainted with each other physically, you got a shock when you realized you were pregnant. You tried to hide it in both dear that Muriel would run away and because it hadn't quiet soaked into your mind yet.

Eventually You started gaining weight and getting morning sickness, Muriel was so worried about you that he basically begged you go to the doctor but since you refused he gave a proposal. "Go stay with Asra, just for a little bit until you get better. He's got potions and things to help and while your gone I can fix up the hut more. It's getting a little small..." he suggested, You knew that you'd definitely need more room after all this.

Caving into Muriel; mostly because you just didn't want to tell him yet. You pack your things and go stay with Asra for a few days. It was only a few days before he too was basically begging for you to go to a doctor but you refused saying "I'm just a little sick." You mumbled.

After going shopping you came back to see Julian was at the shop. You knew instantly that it wasn't jus a friendly visit when you saw his Doctor mask on the couch. "Look just let me examine you." Julian said softly with his puppy eyes, You were sat on the counter with your foot on his chest to keep him at distance while glaring at Asra who was behind him. "No! I'm fine Damnit!!!" You barked. "You've never acted like this." Asra whimpered in worry. "Please, once we know what's causing you to be sick all the time we'll feel better." Julian said softly.

"I already know what's wrong you idiots! I'm pregnant!" You yelled in complete fury, you were fed up with them now but this was mainly because of the hormones that made you have a short fuse.

Julien stood there for a moment as if thinking over all the symptoms. Asra however has eyes as wide as discs. "Yeah actually that does make sense." Julian chuckled. "Why didn't you or Muriel tell us?!" Asra asked. "B—Because Muriel doesn't know..." you mumbled looking down.

As if on cue Muriel walked in cues by the bell on the door. He raised an eyebrow at the sight in front of him. You were sitting on the counter top, leg fully outstretched, foot flat on Julian's chest as if to keep him as far away as you could manage; which at the time was the point. Asra with his hand on Julian's shoulders and chest to his back. You all looked at Muriel like a deer caught in head lights. Muriel didn't really need an explanation at this point since he put two and two together. "Is she still refusing to get a check up?" He asked as he closed the door.

Slowly you put your leg down and straightened up, Julian and Asra separated. Your face was flush, Asra was still kind of shocked and Julian was kinda just there. Asra rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, "Uh— Yeah sort of." Asra mumbled, it wasn't his place to say besides he kind of understood why you hadn't said anything to Muriel yet given how shy he was. Muriel could sense the tension and it made him uncomfortable. Julian stood with his arms crossed and nudged you. "MC, C'mon fill him in." Unlike Asra, Julian was used to telling people news like this so he wasn't secretive.

You cleared your throat and fiddled with your shirt as Muriel walked over. "Uhm. So, Please don't freak out I really can't do this on my own..." You said softly almost as if to warn him. "Okay?" Muriel spoke with a hint of nervousness as he glanced at Julien trying to read his ex's press ion but it was impossible.

You whimpered quietly as you ran over what to say in your head, Muriel was on the edge of his seat. Asra was now beside you with a hand on your shoulder. You took a deep breath and grabbed Muriels big hand, Your cheeks flushed as you guided his hand to your stomach. "M... Muriel I'm pregnant." Time kind of stopped while Muriel processed what was happening.

—————Many Many Weeks later——————

After you told him it took him a bit to wrap his head around it but after constant reassurance that he'll be a great dad from Asra and Julien he calmed down.

You were currently nearing your due date.

"What? You guys can't be busy all week across the city! What if MC goes into labor?!" Muriel said. He was standing outside the shop speaking to Julien and Asra. He had to come get some nausea medication for you and grab some pumpkin break from Asra. It turns out Asra had to assist Julian all week with patients across the city, Julian requested Asra's help because honestly even though he didn't want to admit it but now that he didn't have his mark Asra's herbs and potions did help a lot of patients. Asra agreed because he knew that Julian wouldn't take care of himself unless he made him.

"Look I'm sure she will be fine and if anything happens send Inanna or Malak to get us, they can get around a lot faster." Asra said as he locked the shop up. "We'll try not to be to long and come back early. I told you what to do if she went into labor early so you should be able to manage until we can get there." Julian said as he check through the bag he had to make sure he had everything.

And with that they both left.

For the first five days everything was fine. In fact Muriel wasn't even worried anymore, until he heard your scream while he was feeding the chickens. The door swung open as he ran inside to find you standing in a puddle of water. Muriel went pale with worry and everything Julian had told him was instantly blank.

—————-Meanwhile—————-

Julian closed the door behind him as he left a house, Asra was going through their bag absentmindedly, Julian walked up behind him and wrapped an arm around his waist pulling him close to his chest, he leaned down and placed a kiss to Asra's cheek. "Thanks for coming." He hummed. Asra sighed softly in slight annoyance, "don't mention it, Who else would have kept you alive you idiot." Asra mumbled. Julian pouted at how cold Asra was being to him. "Asra are you mad?" Julian asked sadly, Asra just hummed as if to notice Julian had spoke but not answer. "We need more herbs. I'm running low." Asra said with a little bit more emotion then a minute ago. Julian huffed as he pulled away from Asra, "Yeah okay." He said as he crossed his arms.

Malak came souring down and landing roughly on Julian's shoulder nibbling at Julian's ear and clapping his beak. "Ah! What do you want crow?!" Julian said as he swatted at Malak. Malak just cawed loudly in Julian's ear before jumping to Asra's shoulder Clapping and nibbling at him as well. Asra was set early confused. "Can't you hear him?" Asra asked. "No. He's not really a familiar so much as an annoying crow who looks out for me." Julian stayed. His body tilted sideways as he looked around Asra to see the Wolf running up to them.

It was Inanna.

Upon noticing it they both took off in a run following the two as fast as they could.

———————————————————————

Julian and Asra finally arrived to Muriels hut. Asra and Inanna our of breath while Julian was fine. When they entered the hut MC and Muriel was sitting in some furs, Muriel running his fingers through his exhausted lovers hair while they held a specific bundle of furs close. "Hey guys." You spoke softly in a raspy voice. Julian smiles as he walked over. "Hey, I see we missed the fun!" Julian chuckled as he kneeled down beside you. "Lucky bitch." You grumbled to him with a mischievous smile, Julian just chuckled. "Hey little guy~ how ya doin?" Julian cooed to the wide awake baby bundled in furs in your arm

"Muri, You hold the baby and go outside. Julian needs to make sure I'm okay." You said as you gently sat up with Julian's help. Though hesitant Muriel took the infant in his big arms carefully and stood obediently. Him and Inanna walked outside and sat down while Asra and Julian took care of you.

The baby in his arms just stared up at him and he stared back. "I guess your not so scary... Your so tiny, your probably gonna be like MC— all small." Muriel rambled as he watched the baby look around at the treetops. Inanna whined anxiously awaiting to see the baby. Muriel tilted the baby towards her and she started sniffing the infant.

She absolutely thought it was amazing, the baby on the other hand had no idea what Inanna was. It didn't look like the few things it had seen in the small amount of time of being here. When she started licking the baby that absolutely freaked it out and it started crying— loudly.

"Ah! No no no, It's okay. See I'm here, That's just Inanna." Muriel said softly as he wiped away its tears, slowly it calmed down to his deep voice. When it's tiny little hand wrapped around Muriels finger he melted completely and let a few tears slip. "Daddy's here, I'll protect you I promise." He whispered softly.

———————-

From that day on Muriel became an amazing father, but when the baby fever hit you he had to completely refuse saying "I'm not being a doctor again! Once was enough!!!" However the real reason was because his little prince/princess and you were all he ever needed or wanted in life.

#muriel #pregnant #pregnancy #x reader #muriel x reader #the arcana #the arcana game #all fluff #tooth rotting fluff #fluff

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twilightofthe · 5 years ago

Text

Anakin Skywalker Has ADHD. Here’s Why:

I’ve noticed during my time as a neurodivergent person in the Star Wars community that Anakin, a favorite character of mine, displays a lot of neurodivergent traits. Other people have noticed this too; in particular, @bpdanakins has made a really in depth and detailed post explaining how Anakin having BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder) makes a whole lotta sense. I’ve got ADHD, so this post is gonna be about how I as an ADHD individual see Anakin Skywalker as having ADHD too!!!

Note: Symptoms of ADHD include inability to focus and disorganization. I have ADHD. This post is gonna be a wee bit disorganized and I probs won’t be the best at citing a million sources cuz I do not have the mental focus to do that right now. Thank ye.

So, what is ADHD? (Complicated. The answer is complicated.) (If you don’t want the general ADHD lecture, just scroll down to where I start talking about Anakin particularly).

ADHD, or Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, is a neurological disorder that impairs the brain’s executive functions. People with ADHD have trouble with impulse-control, focusing, and organization. Basically, ADHD is a developmental weakness in how the brain manages itself. I like to picture it like a filing cabinet. Everyone else’s brain has a neatly sorted, labeled, and organized cabinet full of drawers that contain typical brain executive function commands. ADHD people’s brains have a monkey in them that runs around screeching loudly, ripping labels off drawers, rearranging stuff, throwing the files everywhere, eating the papers and generally making a gigantic mess, so whatever you need to go to the drawers to look for something, it takes you ten times longer to find the mental command you need to do if it’s even still there-- and also the monkey is biting your leg the entire time.

People tend to say that this monkey infestation is a gift because sometimes, occasionally, the monkey will rearrange the papers in a different, special way that makes a beautiful picture that no one’s seen before and you can share it for the world to enjoy and everything’s great, you’re just quirky! People tend to forget that it can be like that, but 90% of the time it’s more like the monkey has decided to take a massive shit all over the one specific paper you needed really badly and then put it in front of your foot so you step in it and don’t notice until people point out you’re tracking monkey shit paper everywhere. Anyway.

ADHD is a complex condition and difficult to diagnose because it has so many different varying symptoms, and one person who has ADHD may experience none of the symptoms than another person who also has ADHD does and vice versa because there is a lot. ADHD also tends to go unnoticed because it overlaps symptoms with a LOT of other mental illnesses an individual might have, so you might not even know you have ADHD if you’re also, say, autistic or bipolar, or again vice versa, because there’s a lot of “same hat” stuff going on there.

ADHD also can have its own subcategories of mental illness that can also stand on their own, like ADHD-induced anxiety or ADHD-induced depression. It can be really confusing to know everything going on in your head and put a label on it; for example for me, my doctors and I think I’ve got a separate anxiety disorder that works on its own that my ADHD makes worse, but that the depressive episodes I can suffer likely stem from my ADHD, and don’t need to be tackled individually or say that I have depression.

The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM) has previously identified three subtypes of ADHD:

Primarily Hyperactive-Impulsive type: Mainly have impulse control problems, tend to be impulsive, impatient, and interrupt others. They fidget, hate sitting still/need to be in constant movement, tend to blurt out what’s on their mind or do what they feel like without thinking it through. They’re constantly up with the thoughts in their head and have difficulty focusing on a single task unless they’re in hyperfocus mode (explaining more later)

Primarily Inattentive type: Are easily distracted and forgetful. Tend to be daydreamers who lose track of memories and personal items with regularity.

Primarily Combined type: Tend to display a mixture of both symptoms. I was diagnosed as a child with the combined type but leaning more towards inattentive.

Anakin and Signs of ADHD:

SO. For starters, I see Anakin as primarily combined type with heavy leanings toward hyperactive-impulsivity. While this type is used to describe the stereotypical hyper little boy media tends to paint ADHD people as, adults can have it too and I see it a lot in Anakin. ADHD magazine ADDitude gives examples of adults with h-i ADHD as people who find difficulty in waiting around for anything, interrupt others in conversation, make impulsive decisions, and have reckless driving skills. Sound at all like someone we know?

Now Anakin absolutely checks all of the above boxes, but it’s way more than that, though. I looked up Healthline’s basic signs and symptoms of Adult ADHD, and I am going to run down the list to show how basically all of them apply to Anakin Skywalker in one way or another. Let’s begin!

Anakin and LACK OF FOCUS: ADDitude suggests that saying ADHD people don’t have attention might be a bit misleading. More accurately, ADHD people have tons of attention, we just can’t harness it in the right direction at the right time with any consistency. In canon, it is made very clear to us very early on that Anakin has issues with some of the more spiritual aspects of Jedi training, like meditation, because he does not possess the focus necessary to concentrate. We get other times when Anakin’s on missions with Obi Wan, where it is made clear Anakin has read the mission brief, but he hasn’t done a good job on it as he’s overlooked something. He gets distracted while in diplomatic situations and Obi Wan needs to tell him to pay attention. Palpatine is able to pull sketchy shit because he knows how to slip under Anakin’s radar while he’s not too focused on him. Anakin isn’t always aware of his surroundings, seeing as how basically everyone who knows him knows about Padmé because he’s not good at being subtle; he’s not good at reading a room. Canon has established that Anakin, while brilliant, has a very flighty attention span and unless it’s something that is deeply important to him or made glaringly obvious, his brain has a tendency to skip over it, and makes him less aware.

Anakin and HYPERFOCUS: The flip side of ADHD focus issues. While our brains don’t always want to pay attention to important rules or other peoples’ emotions or basically anything presented to us that we find boring in any shape or form, if we find something we like, we LATCH. ON. And we cannot stop concentrating on it, up until the point that we lose track of time and ignore others around us. In canon, it is shown very easily what Anakin hyperfocuses on. He’s described in several SW books and is shown in show and movies to completely go into a zone when in combat mode. He’s good at it, he enjoys it, and saber skills is easily something that he can concentrate and get lost in. Another obvious one is mechanics. We see briefly in TCW and bits in the movies where when Anakin is fixing something or piloting something, he kind of drifts away from reality-- he’s got an ear on the situation if there’s danger of course, but he goes just solidly into Tech Mode where all he concentrates on is whatever he’s fixing/piloting at the moment, and that’s why he’s so skilled at what he does. It’s also possible to hyperfocus on specific ideas or opinions, which you can see in basically every argument Anakin ever gets into with someone. He’s like a dog with a bone on a topic he wants to discuss Right Now This Very Second and he will not let it go, nor will he allow you to either, because when we hyperfocus, our fixation can bleed into conversation until it takes control of the conversation, without us even knowing we’re doing it, so it can be surprising/embarrassing when someone points out we’re doing it.

Anakin and DISORGANIZATION: ADHD people basically struggle with organizational skills. While we don’t see much of Anakin’s living spaces, we can see from the brief TCW snippets that his living quarters are a little cluttered. However, he does run a relatively neat army-- though we don’t know how much of that has Rex, Ahsoka, Obi Wan, or someone else to thank for it. In Anakin, most of the disorganization we see is in his mind. Priorities can be an issue for ADHD people, and Anakin tends to prioritize the wrong thing at the wrong time at certain points. He doesn’t always know what to say or how to say it, making him awkward and not very eloquent when speaking.

Anakin and TIME MANAGEMENT PROBLEMS: An issue that goes hand-in-hand with disorganization. We have trouble using time effectively. We procrastinate on things we don’t want to do, show up late, ignore things we consider boring, and the idea of the future or the past is overwhelming and or scary to us and can cause panic-- we need to focus on the now and the now alone because if we try to cross that bridge before we get to it, we might end up burning it. All throughout TCW, we get Obi Wan in particular, but others as well, harping on Anakin for showing up late. And, uh, he kinda does. He makes it, he always does, but it’s always at the last minute just when everyone’s worried he’s not gonna show up. He sometimes doesn’t go to important meetings. He puts off paperwork. Lots of people use all of this to make fun of him, be like “ah, he’s a bad Jedi, he’s lazy”, but like, that’s standard ADHD time management issues. And fear of the future? Hoo boy... Anakin may handle his fears of the future in the literal worst way possible, but that overwhelming anxiety that everything’s rushing at you so fast and holy shit, you don’t have your shit together NOW, what the hell are you gonna do THEN, holy shit holy shit everyone’s gonna DIE PANIC PANIC DANGER PANIC-- Like, I get that. I really do. Fear of the future and inability to manage time overlap a lot.

Anakin and FORGETFULNESS: ADHD have a tendency to forget important stuff, but here is where I remind y’all that not all ADHD people experience all the same symptoms, because Anakin actually has a really damn good memory. Boy is sharp, he recalls really obscure stuff, and if you piss him off/do him a favor, he’s remembering that to his deathbed. Anakin, however, does display what is common in ADHD people, having a selective memory. This goes hand in hand with our attention issues. We remember what we focused on and that sticks in our mind: hopes, fears, interests, stuff like that. Anything else? Eh, if we didn’t notice it then, we’re not noticing it five years from then, or even five minutes from then. That you can see in Anakin, where people like Ahsoka and Obi Wan have to teasingly remind him of important stuff that he tends to just shrug off like “oh yeah that thing that I didn’t care about then and don’t really care about now”, or he feels guilty cuz “oops I didn’t notice it then so now I’m lost”

Anakin and IMPULSIVITY: Aight y’all, this probably requires the least amount of explanation for Anakin Skywalker cuz the Star Wars narrative calls him impulsive like every ten seconds xD ADHD people with impulsivity can be socially inappropriate (Anakin, always managing to say the wrong thing at the wrong time, king of escalating tense situations because he blurts out whatever he feels like), interrupt others (something Padmé and Ahsoka have both canonically called him on doing, he does it to plenty of others as well, Vader does it all the damn time by just force-choking people silent), rushing through tasks (”Oh Anakin, always on the move”. He does not wait, he makes up plans as he goes, he’s constantly in motion), ACTING WITHOUT MUCH CONSIDERATION TO THE CONSEQUENCES (Examples: The entirety of Star Wars episodes 1-6, Star Wars: The Clone Wars)

Anakin and EMOTIONAL PROBLEMS: Alright, maybe THIS is the one that requires the least amount of explanation, haha. ADHD peoples’ emotions seem constantly in flux. We get bored easily and need constant entertainment. (Anakin running off doing crazy stuff seemingly for fun) Small frustrations always feel like the end of the world because it takes over our entire brain. (Anakin being “overdramatic/overreacting”) The slightest sense of rejection or negativity towards our ideas or anything we do can read as total hatred (this is called Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, it SUCKS) so we’re oversensitive about criticism of basically anything. RSD also means we’re paranoid that we’re not noticing other people’s emotions, so we always tend to worry everyone else hates us or our friends are going to leave us-- we have serious abandonment issues. (Basically all of Anakin worrying about the Jedi’s image of him, worrying about Padmé and Obi Wan loving him, freaking out over Ahsoka leaving, etc.) Our mind is focusing on a million things at once so our emotions run super quickly, causing what looks like mood swings because in the time it takes someone to get surprised, we’ve already gone through surprise, confusion, realization, betrayal, fury, and sadness and are now “randomly” crying in front of you (Anakin and his mood swings). Focus issues make us not realize that something we’re doing is upsetting/bothering someone unless they flat out say it, so we may seem mean/inconsiderate/careless (ok, not excusing that part of Anakin’s personality is that he’s just kind of a dick lol, but other stuff that he does seems accidental; he doesn’t want to hurt anyone he loves).

Anakin and POOR SELF-IMAGE: HOOOO BOY THIS IS GONNA BE FUN! So adults with ADHD are often hypercritical of themselves, which can lead to a poor self-image. I do this a lot, and I can’t really explain why, just that I am frustrated with myself and need validation from outside sources. Anakin verbally expresses this to Padmé and Palpatine in Attack of the Clones and Revenge of the Sith especially with all his “I’m not the Jedi I’m supposed to be” bits, how he constantly puts pressure on himself in the novels to be “the very best, I have to be better than everyone, I SHOULD be”, the conflict with that Chosen One label and whether he believes it or not and the pressure he feels from others to fulfill it, to be the Hero With No Fear when he’s fucking terrified all the time. He’s relentlessly hard on himself for his failures and is always looking for an insult in others’ words (Like if Obi Wan gives him gentle concrit, Anakin will subconsciously tear it apart to turn it into how Obi Wan has found an error with all of him and hates him and Anakin sucks). For all his pride in his abilities, Anakin really does not like himself, poor dear, and seeks outside validation in Padmé, Palpatine, and Obi Wan.

Anakin and LACK OF MOTIVATION: Also ties back to focus issues again, if we don’t like it, our brain won’t focus on it, and we can’t convince ourselves to do it. We can see this in times where Anakin has to be gently (or not so gently) prodded by Obi Wan or Ahsoka or someone into doing some Jedi business Anakin considers annoying.

Anakin and RESTLESSNESS AND ANXIETY: It’s described as our “motor won’t shut off”. We always need to keep moving and doing things, and we get frustrated when we can’t do something immediately. There are also bodily tics with fidgeting or frequent hand movements. We see this several times with Anakin during wartime, where he’s practically vibrating over having to play the long waiting game instead of rushing in and getting the job done immediately (See: on Naboo where Anakin is pacing a hole into the floor and Obi Wan is telling him to kindly chill pls). Part of his issues in ROTS happen when he’s worked himself up into a frenzy over sitting not knowing what to do over what’s scaring him so he jumps the gun and goes with the first available (awful) option. I don’t remember if this is Hayden or if this is me projecting, sorry, but I always feel that when I watch Hayden in the movies, he always portrays Anakin as vaguely squirmy/fidgety, not really ever sitting PERFECTLY still, like he’s always moving some body part, fiddling with something in his hands or on his clothes. In TCW and the OT especially, we see how hand-wavey he is when he talks, especially when he’s pissed, then the Finger Wag Of Doom comes out, but his hands are ALWAYS in motion.

Anakin and FATIGUE: It’s as the word describes it, we feel tired. All the craziness in our head is overwhelming and we just. Feel. Tired. We don’t see this as clearly in Anakin because all the Jedi seem fatigued, they’re fighting a fucking hopeless war, but it’s definitely there. He has sleeping problems with his dreams and nightmares that spawn from his anxiety that could easily be ADHD-induced; they’re there.

Anakin and HEALTH PROBLEMS: Long story short, it’s basically all your ADHD issues making you neglect to take care of yourself. We see how Anakin has unhealthy coping mechanisms, neglects sleep, and throws himself into reckless, dangerous situations. He does not take care of himself very well at all.

Anakin and RELATIONSHIP ISSUES: Ruh roh... Aight, so all of the symptoms above can very obviously prove to be hurdles in professional, romantic, or platonic situations. We can see how all the above examples in Anakin have in one way or another caused an argument between himself and basically everyone he loves (Obi Wan, Padmé, Ahsoka), people he has to work with (the Jedi council, anyone he gets assigned to on a mission), and anyone else. He’s not called a human disaster for no reason, his actions can make him rub people very much the wrong way, and being kind of lonely and awkward and with not many friends is unfortunately a common occurrence in the lives of ADHD people (It happened to me, and I would consider myself much more of a pleasant individual than Anakin (no offense, hon), other people who met me just thought I was “strange” and that was that).

WHEW. So yes, all of the above state my reasons why I think Anakin Skywalker has ADHD (as well as anxiety, but that’s another post). Please remember once more that these are MY EXPERIENCES AS AN INDIVIDUAL WITH ADHD and that once again, NOT ALL ADHD PEOPLE SHARE THE SAME EXPERIENCES/SYMPTOMS

I will give the two articles I bothered fact-checking with below, the one from Healthline and from ADDitude

If y’all wanna talk more about ADHD!Anakin or any other ADHD Star Wars characters or just neurodivergent Star Wars character headcanons with me, my inbox and DM’s are always open, I love talking about this!!!!!!!!!

#long post #morai musings #one (1) hot mess #star wars #sw stuff #sw meta #adhd #Anakin Skywalker

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emisfritish · 5 years ago

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Thicker Than Water (Part 4)

Pairing : Sarawat / Tine (2gether the series)

Summary : Type comes back to spend a few days with them, and Sarawat is almost certain that none of them will make it out the experience unscathed.

Or - Type comes into town, take two. They bicker, they fight, they hurt, they learn, they grow, they heal.

Chapter : 4/6

Previous chapters : 1 / 2 / 3

Next chapters : 5 / 6

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“I don’t think those eggs actually look edible,” Sarawat says from where he’s leaning over Tine’s shoulder, looking into the pan where his boyfriend is currently attempting to make an omelet for their breakfast.

“Saraleo !” Tine shouts, shoulder checking him and pretending to glare. “Of course they’re edible !”

“Whatever you say Tua Woon Wai,” he says with a smirk, and the other boy lifts his spatula to pretend he’s going to whack him on the head with it, prompting Sarawat to move away laughing.

He’s missed this. It’s ridiculous, because it had only been three days without this, but he did. Tine is his boyfriend, but he’s also his friend, and he thinks he’s missed the goofing off just as much as he did being openly affectionate together.

Sarawat feels lighter today. He knows that the feeling is in part due to the fact that he hasn’t seen Type yet today, the other boy being gone when they woke up this morning, but he thinks it’s mainly the fact that he’s been showered with Tine’s open affection since last night, and after days deprived of it, he’s soaking it up.

Yesterday when they came back from the concert, Sarawat had expected Tine to make his way back to the bed he’s currently sharing with his brother, and after their talk earlier in the evening, he honestly would have been ok with it. Yet, his boyfriend surprised him when he made his way to the sofa Sarawat had been sleeping on instead, before he started pulling all the cushions and the spare blanket off of it, making a makeshift mattress on the floor at the foot of the sofa.

He’d then lied down on it, and had gestured for Sarawat to come and lay down with him, which he had done more than happily, smiling sweetly at his boyfriend. Tine had rearranged them both until he had his arms around him and Sarawat was snuggled closely to his torso. The position had been the perfect one for Sarawat to bury his face into Tine’s neck, one of his favourite places to be. The small kiss Tine had pressed into his hair before they both started drifting off to sleep had been the moment he felt his body fully relax for the first time in days.

“God, Chef Tine is so good, that looks delicious,” Tine’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts and Sarawat snorts at his boyfriend, both for referring to himself in the third person and for his obvious denial about his cooking skills.

“At least let me add in some sweet and sour sauce Chef Tine,” Sarawat says, crowding Tine against the counter to try to reach the pan, and Tine turns around and spreads his arm, trying to shield his food from Sarawat’s sauce.

“No ! It’s perfect as is,” he exclaims, turning off the gas, before he tries to push Sarawat away by pushing his head on his chest and pushing forward, arms still extended to shield his precious eggs. Sarawat drops his hands on Tine’s head trying to push him further down so he can reach over him before they both freeze when they hear someone clear their throat loudly behind them.

Tine immediately jumps back up and stands straight, while Sarawat takes a step back from his boyfriend to give him some space. His movements are stopped when Tine’s hands come to rest on his waist, applying pressure and shaking his head lightly to indicate he doesn’t want him to pull away.

Tine gives him a meaningful look, before he turns to look at his brother over Sarawat’s shoulder, keeping both of his hands pressed against Sarawat’s waist.

“Hi Type, did you have a good run ?” he asks with a smile, and Sarawat pulls away a little to turn towards Type, feeling Tine’s hand let go of his waist and catch one of his hands instead, a clear sign he had listened to Sarawat last night and was making an effort.

He sees Type nod towards his brother, before turning towards him.

“Uh, good morning Type,” Sarawat greets a little awkwardly, and he’s met with Type staring at him blankly.

“Well, it had been up until now at least,” he replies, prompting Sarawat to roll his eyes.

What Sarawat doesn’t expect to happen though, is for Tine to immediately stand straight and glare at his older brother.

“Okay, that’s enough. I’ve had it,” he says angrily, and both Sarawat and Tine turn towards him in surprise.

“P’ I know this is what you think you need to do to protect me or whatever, but I’m done. I’m not a child anymore, I can take care of myself and I don’t need your protection, especially not from Sarawat, of all people,” he says fuming. The grip Tine has on his hand grows tighter and Sarawat almost wants to wince at the pain, but he doesn’t let anything transpire, figuring that Tine needs the movement to give himself strength.

“I’ve let this go on for too long, and this stops down. I am so done with you talking down on our relationship and treating Sarawat that way. You’re my brother, and I will always love you, but this ends now. I love Sarawat and he’s here to stay, so either you learn to respect him and our relationship while in our own home, or you won’t be welcome here anymore.”

Silence rings in the room after Tine finishes his declaration, and Sarawat stares at him in shock, not quite believing the way his boyfriend just stood up to his brother. Tine isn’t one for confrontation, the other boy usually hating conflict enough to let things slide, and Sarawat honestly can’t remember the last time he saw him looking this angry.

Going by the shocked expression that is mirrored on Type’s face at his brother’s outburst, Sarawat can safely assume that he isn’t used to seeing his little brother speak out either.

“Now, Wat and I are going to go out for breakfast to give you some time to think,” he continues in a firm voice before Sarawat or Type can utter out a word. “When we come back, I either want you to back off and learn to be nice to Wat in his own house, or I want you gone. Your choice.”

At those words, he starts pulling Sarawat towards the door, pulling on his shoes and gesturing for Sarawat to do the same.

“You’re welcome to the eggs in the pan if you decide to stay and to stop being an idiot,” Tine announces when he’s at the door, turning towards Type who still looks flabbergasted, before he pulls Sarawat out of the apartment by the hand and shuts the door firmly behind him.

If he wasn’t still in shock at the whole situation, Sarawat would smile at the words. This is so much like Tine. Sarawat has never seen him so angry, yet he’s still caring enough to not let his older brother fend for himself and go hungry.

As soon as Type is out of sight, Tine’s shoulders deflate suddenly and Sarawat can’t help but feel guilty about what just happened. This is his fault, after all.

Tine starts walking out of their apartment complex and towards whatever place he has in mind for breakfast, pulling Sarawat along by the hold he still has on his hand. Sarawat is still shocked enough that he follows suit without a word, not quite knowing what to say to make the situation better.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he finally settles on saying quietly after a few minutes of walking silently and Tine turns towards him at the words.

“Actually, I did. And I’m sorry I didn’t do it any sooner,” he says firmly, fixing Sarawat in the eyes.

“But Tine, he’s your brother, your family.”

As much as Sarawat appreciates Tine for standing up for them and for making an effort to not alter his behaviour when his brother came in this morning, he doesn’t want the boy to regret anything later on.

“He is. But you know what ? So are you,” he says with a decisive nod and Sarawat stops them in their tracks and turns towards him in shock.

“Look Wat, I know we don’t really talk about it, but you’re my family too, or you will be soon enough anyway. We’ve been together for less than a year, yet we moved in together months ago. The only reason I would accept us moving this fast is because I know that this, us, is for the long haul. And you do too, right ?”

Tine’s voice cracks a little on his last question, and Sarawat, seeing that he is starting to look nervous at his lack of response, quickly nods to reassure him. Because he does know. He just didn’t realize the feeling was mutual.

Sarawat may have been joking the couple times he’d asked Tine to marry him, before they even got together, but truthfully there isn’t a fiber in his being that doesn’t believe that him and Tine are it and that it’ll happen one day. He believed it then, and he believes it even stronger now.

He’s not an idiot. He knows that they are young, that they still have a lot of growing to do. But he also believes that any growing they have to do they can do together. He’s been in love with Tine almost ever since he’s met him, and the feeling has only grown deeper with time. So yes, it’s safe to say, he knows. He just didn’t realize that Tine would feel the same already.

“I do too,” he finally confirms, his voice cracking with emotion, and Tine sends him a gentle smile in answer, before nodding, understanding passing between them.

“We’re not going anywhere, and I refuse to spend my life tip-toeing around you when he’s around. Especially now that I realize how much it actually hurts you when I do,” he says firmly.

“But, Tine…”

“No Wat,” he says firmly. “He’s my brother, but you’re my boyfriend. My future… well. My future everything, really. So he’s going to have to learn to deal because I love you both, and that’s that.”

Tine starts walking again, and Sarawat follows suit, his hand still cradled in Tine’s. He can’t seem to make himself stop staring though.

“Stop looking at me, it’s distracting,” Tine mumbles, a light blush making its way on his cheeks and Sarawat smiles at his reaction. He pulls at his arm to stop their progress and moves closer to Tine, nuzzling his cheek with his nose.

“I can’t help it, you’re very hot when you’re all decisive and firm,” he whispers in his ear, before he bursts out laughing when Tine suddenly pushes him away and looks around them in panic.

“Saraleo, we’re in the middle of the street ! Keep it in your pants,” he whispers firmly, eyes still travelling around them to check if any passerby saw them.

They were, but Sarawat honestly couldn’t care less.

They start walking again, and Sarawat sees the small smile Tine is desperately trying to shine and yet can’t seem to be able to hold in.

“You’re not afraid that he’ll be gone by the time we return ?” Sarawat asks, half curious, and half dreading what Tine’s answer will be.

“Please,” Tine says with a roll of his eyes. “He’s my brother, he hates losing. There’s no way he’s going anywhere this easily. Plus, didn’t he say just a few months ago that he could accept me for whatever I am ? Well this is me. He’ll deal with it. Trust me, he’s not going anywhere.”

Sarawat smiles softly at the words. By now, they know each other enough for him to know that things weren’t always easy for Tine while he was growing up. For him to have that constant, this one person in his life that’s always been there for him and to see that Tine doesn’t doubt for one second that his brother will still be there for him… It’s nice. Sarawat’s glad he has that. Even if said constant happens to be a pain in his backside.

“Okay, good,” he finally answers. “Then maybe when we get home, don’t be too harsh on him. After all, he’ll have already endured eating your eggs Chef Tine, I think that’s punishment enough.”

He throws a teasing smirk Tine’s way, and he can’t hold the laughter when he sees the look of outrage that crosses his boyfriend’s face.

“How dare you criticize my cooking ? Fine ! Just for that, you’re the one that’s paying for breakfast,” he claims, before he starts stomping away towards the food stall, resolutely not looking back and ignoring Sarawat’s call for him.

Sarawat laughs at his boyfriend’s antics and he can’t help but shake his head in fondness.

Yeah, he could get used to a lifetime of this.

#sarawat x tine #saratine #2gether the series #2gether #2gether fanfic #saratine fanfic #emi's writing

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marvelmando · 7 years ago

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let there be light - pt. 1

summary: y/n has been living with tony stark since she was three, after a lab accident killed her parents, and left her with the ability to create and manipulate light. since then, she battles as an avenger, and eventually, as a babysitter for a certain new hero. she doesn’t mind it though, because she’s always wanted to live a normal teenage life... and possibly also because peter’s cute.

contains: swearing, angst, mentions of death, fluff, some ptsd mentions

notes: hi guys!! this is my first ever series!! i’ve got some of this written on wattpad (if it sounds familiar), so this is not plagiarized, i want to make that clear. but y/n will be different my that oc, so some fresh content is available :) but thank you all so much for the amazing support over the past couple of days! please tell me if you like this, and i can try a tag list too!!

next chapter

“Tony, are you sure this kid is good? I mean, what kind of powers come from spiders? Tony, you know I hate spiders,” You whined, and Tony rolled his eyes.

Okay, you didn’t hate spiders. You just thought they were incredibly creepy and sometimes had nightmares about accidentally swallowing a spider. But you didn’t hate them.

“You’d be surprised, Light-bulb. The kid can throw a punch. Or catch a car, or stop a bus with his bare hands, depending on the video you watch.”

Before you could get anymore information, you saw Happy arrive at the rendezvous, with a fidgety boy in red and blue spandex trailing close behind him. As they approached, you could hear the boy (who you presumed to be Spider-Man, based on the spider-shaped emblem on his chest) firing questions at Happy at a million miles a minute. You tried not to laugh at the desolation on Happy’s face as he tried to ignore him.

But then Spider-Boy’s questions halted, and the bionic eyes on his suit widened. You assumed it was because you and Tony were standing before him.

Since you’d arrived, Tony made you keep up your Illusion. They came with the powers: the ability to make anyone see, feel, taste, hear, or smell anything that isn’t there. You use it mainly to change your appearance, usually when you’re appearing as—

“Artemis! Wow! Um, I—I’m Pete—I mean, I’m Sp—Spider-Man.” The kid bounded up to the two of you. “And Mr. Stark. Hi, um, thanks for bringing me out here! I was just telling—”

“Okay kid, calm down.” Tony said, which made... Pete? shut up instantly. “We don’t have much time before the others start to arrive—”

At that moment, someone announced something over the intercoms in German. You looked to Tony. “Alright, that’s our cue. Artemis, you got him?”

You nodded. Stepping to the boy’s side, you didn’t give him any chance to speak. You grabbed his hand, and wrapped his arm around your waist. He stiffened, which made you smirk.

“Hold tight, Spidey.” You said, before you Beamed over to a cluster of wooden boxes, effectively hiding both you and Pete.

Beaming is what you like to call your super-speed. You can run at the speed of light, but because it often takes a lot of energy and requires a strong level of concentration, you don’t use it too often. Instead, you usually run at a speed that’s closer to the speed of sound, which is still fast, but when taking others (especially those who are caught off-guard), it can induce dizziness and vomiting. Hopefully, Pete wouldn’t do the latter.

When you released him, Spider-Man put his hands on his knees, catching his breath. “Woah, that was awesome.” He groaned, not appearing so awesome.

“Okay, I’m sure Happy told you part of what’s going down right?” You asked him once he stood up straight. “You know what your job is?”

He nodded. “Come out at the code word, web Captain America up, take his shield, and... I’m not really sure what comes after that.”

“Depending on what goes down...” You grimaced, hoping this wouldn’t escalate to fighting and Steve would come to his senses. “You’ll just have to keep everyone occupied and make sure no one gets to the garage over there. Think you can do that?”

“Yeah! Um, I mean, I’ve got this, no problem.” Spider-Man stuttered.

“You do talk a lot, don’t you?” You laughed.

“No! Well, only... only when I’m nervous, I guess.” He scratched the back of his neck, and rubbed the top of his head. You figured this would been when he ran his fingers through his hair, if he could.

“I get it,” You watched as Steve came into view. “I was nervous before my first fight too.”

As the two of you looked on as Tony tried to stop Steve, Pete muttered, “Yeah... the fight.”

You grew restless at the way the conversation was getting increasingly more tense. Steve then mentioned something about the doctor, and how there were more Winter Soldiers. While Spider-Man was clueless, you knew better, your interest piqued.

Tony wasn’t having it, though, and you could tell he was barely restraining his frustration. “Alright, I’ve run out of patience.” He said, and you knew what was coming. You nudged Spidey’s elbow, signalling him to be ready. “Underoos!”

Both superheroes sprang into action. While Spider-Man leaped high through the air above everyone’s heads and grabbed Captain America’s shield, you Beamed past, binding Steve’s wrists in a rope made of light.

Pete landed heroically on top of a nearby truck, on one knee with the shield on his arm. You stopped at the empty spot next to Tony.

Between Beaming twice already, and Fusing the rope, you’d grown slightly exhausted. “Nice job, kids.” Tony addressed them.

You would’ve given a snarky response, but you were out of breath. You nodded, though. Spider-Man was not so out of breath.

“Thanks!” He said, sitting straight as he settled on the knee. He looked down at himself. “I could’ve stuck the landing a little better, it’s just... new suit—” Realizing how that sounded, his head snapped up. “Wait—it’s nothing, Mr. Stark, it’s perfect, thank you.”

You smiled at his awkward babble, but Tony wasn’t as amused. “Yeah, we don’t really need to start a conversation.”

Spider-Man nodded, but wasn’t listening to Tony apparently, because he was too in-awe of the other superhero in front of him. “Okay. Cap—Captain.” He saluted at Captain America, who’s mouth was hanging open a little, obviously a little surprised. “Big fan; I’m Spider-Man.”

Tony was getting annoyed. “Yeah, we’ll talk about it later.”

Spider-Man exhaled, waving his hand. “Hey, everyone.”

“Not now, Spidey.” You muttered to him, still grinning to yourself.

“You’ve been busy,” Steve said, contrarily bemused by the situation. Your smile slid off your face as you glared at him.

"And you've been a complete idiot." Tony shot back. "Dragging in Clint, 'rescuing' Wanda from a place she doesn't even want to leave—a safe place. I'm trying to keep—" Tony's voice raised in volume, and he broke off with a sigh. "I'm trying to keep you from tearing the Avengers apart."

You hated seeing Tony like this, and your heart ached for him because you knew how much he’d grown to care for the Avengers Initiative.

But you kind of lost it, when Steve replied, “You did that when you signed.”

“Cut the shit, Steve.” You scoffed, and his eyes turned to you, shocked. “We did that? Tore the Avengers apart by signing a damn peace accords? Please, without the contract there wouldn’t even be an Avengers team anymore.” You shook your head at him. “You’re so hell-bent on saving people with this, but we wouldn’t be able to without the contract, not legally, anyways. And you know that! You know I love you and I know how important Bucky is to you, but he’s dangerous. He isn’t worth the risk.”

Steve leveled his head at you. “Oh, and you’re not just as dangerous as him?”

You could feel the blood boiling in your veins, and Tony had to hold you back, while you held back tears.

Tony had enough. “All right, we're done. You're gonna turn Barnes over, and you're gonna come with us, now, because it's us... or a squad of J-SOC guys with no compunction about being impolite."

Now that you weren’t struggling against Tony anymore, you noticed how he was shaking. He was stalling. Stalling, in the hopes that Steve could change his mind, stalling for one last chance of keeping his family from tearing apart. "C'mon," he urged, pouring every last bit of hope and desperation into the one word.

The Captain's head turned, as if he was suddenly aware of something. Suddenly, before anyone could react, Steve lifted his bonded hands above his head, and an electrically charged arrow sliced through your light-rope, effectively freeing him. Iron Man's helmet activated, and you could hear Steve say, "All right, Lang," into his ear piece, but you had no clue who or what a 'Lang' was.

"Hey guys, something—" Spider-Man said, before grunting loudly, as a man appeared next to him, seemingly out of nowhere. He kicked the boy down, snatching Cap's shield back. You readied yourself for action, charging your hands up with light energy and Fusing a light bow and arrows.

"What the hell was that?!" Rhodey exclaimed into his suit.

The man, you assumed, handed the shield back to its owner. "Ah, great. All right, there's two on the parking deck." Tony informed everyone through the comms. "One of them's Maximoff, I'm gonna grab her. Rhodey, you wanna take Cap?"

"Got two in the terminal, Wilson and Barnes," Rhodey responded.

Black Panther, whom you had completely forgotten was here, took off. "Barnes is mine!" However, Steve stopped him in his tracks.

Spider-Man hesitated, looking to you. "Artemis, what do I do?"

Preparing yourself for flight, you nodded toward the terminal. "Let's web 'em up, Spidey."

"Okay, copy that." As he shot webs and swung himself away, you took off flying. You maneuvered the light particles in your hands so that they created enough energy to push your body off the ground and through the air, which was a trick you'd recently learned.

As Spider-Man landed on the windows of the terminal, he tried to catch up with Wilson and Barnes by clinging to the surface and crawling across it.

And, as amusing as it was, you called out to him, "You know they're on the other side of the glass, right, Web-head?" You teased, floating in front of him and phasing through the glass. His suit's bionic eyes widened, and he yelled, "whoa, that was so cool!" before swinging around and flying through the glass.

Spider-Man went to Wilson first, and you landed right in front of Bucky. You started to shoot blasts of light at him, making sure to dodge his punches. You laughed as he kept missing, and he became more impatient. “Aw, lighten up, Barnes! Get it? Because I’m made of light!”

As you pelted him with a particularly solid blast of light, you pouted. “I hope there’s no... hard! feelings after what I said out there. Strictly business, you understand.”

Bucky suddenly grabbed you by the throat with his normal hand, and lifted his metal arm to punch you, but Spider-Man swooped in and caught it with ease.

Gasping for air, you backed away. “You have a metal arm? That is awesome, dude!”

Mildly in pain but equally impressed at how easily Spider-Man caught Bucky’s arm, you grinned and took the opportunity that Spider-Man was now battling Bucky, to knock back some light arrows at Sam’s wings. The bow and arrows had been your go-to weapon since you first used it in the Battle of New York, when you Fused the first thing that came to mind (you were in a Hunger Games phase). After it was over, the media had named you Artemis, after the Greek goddess of archery.

You only needed to fire one, because you could easily manipulate the arrow into his pack, temporarily shutting it down. Only for a brief second, though, because his wings opened back up, but not before swooping down and taking Spider-Man with him.

You cursed to yourself. You and Bucky stood there in an odd moment of calm, watching as Spider-Man struggled against Sam’s grip. “You have the right to remain silent!” Spider-Man yelled, making you laugh.

Bucky, remembering where he was, resumed his fighting stance. “You two were made for each other.” He grumbled bitterly, and you smirked.

As Spider-Man and Wilson were dueling in the air, you and Bucky were battling on the ground. You grew tire of throwing light blasts, and even tried Fusing a baseball bat and hitting him with that once. But he dodged it, and grabbed at a nearby metal bench. With his strong arm, he ripped it right out of the ground and hurled it at you.

Luckily, you were not completely surprised and moved your head quickly out of the way (and by quickly, you mean at the speed of sound). The chunk of metal narrowly missed Spider-Man behind them. Bucky ran and hid behind a support beam, but Spider-Man had seen him, and yelled at him, “Hey buddy, I think you lost this!” before chucking the metal back at him.

Looking up to help him, you watched as Wilson kicked into Pete's back, and pushing towards the ground, before Spider-Man shot his webs, pulling himself from Sam's grasp. You remembered hearing something about an automatic shut-off switch on the back of Sam's wings, and Fused your bow and arrows, shooting blindly at his back.

Luckily, you must've hit it, because his wings immediately retracted, causing him to fall through the air, and into a booth. Nearing the rail, Spider-Man swung by and shot his webs at Sam's hands, attaching them to the metal railing. Spider-Man clung to the side of a support beam, and everything was strangely calm for a second.

“Those wings carbon fiber?” Pete asked.

“Is this stuff coming out of you?” Sam looked at his hands, mildly disgusted.

“That’s what she said,” You joked to yourself.

"That would explain the rigidity-flexibility ratio, which, gotta say, that's awesome, man." Pete said, more or less answering himself.

“You know, Spidey, as much as I appreciate a little commentary, there’s not usually this much talking in a fight.” You pointed out, and Sam nodded.

Instead of being embarrassed, which is what you expected, Spider-Man chuckled. "All right, sorry. My bad." He then swung at Sam.

Suddenly, Bucky appeared out of nowhere, blocking Spider-Man, but not stopping him from knocking them both through the railing and onto the ground. Spider-Man webbed Wilson's arms to his chest, and Bucky's metal arm to the ground.

"Guys, look, I'd love to keep this up, but I've only got one job here today, and I've gotta impress Mr. Stark, so, I'm really sorry." Pete explained.

However, you noticed Wilson's hand move under the webbing and the net, and you could tell it was his wrist monitor.

"Webs—" You started to warn him. But, before you could get anything else out, as Spider-Man extended his arm to shoot a web, Redwing flew in and caught hold of Pete's hand, zooming out the window. Spider-Man banged awkwardly against the building's framework, and flailed through the air as Redwing tugged him along.

You turned to glare at Sam, who simply shrugged, before flying back after him.

Apparently, Spider-Man had been dropped, because he was squirming around on the concrete. You saw a small cut on his arm, where the glass had pierced through the fabric and his flesh. Landing near him, you grabbed his hand gently.

He began to fight back before he realized who it was, and he relaxed.

"Hey, quit squirming so I can heal you, dumbass." You gripped him harder, exposing the wound a bit more so you could make contact with his skin. You pressed your fingertips against the area around his cut, and allowed the light to flow through your chest and into your hands.

The illumination of your skin reflected off of his bionic eyes, and against your better judgement, you wished you could see the look under his mask. He stayed silent in awe, but looked at your face the entire time. You couldn't read Pete's expression, but you knew it was impressed.

After the wound stitched itself back together, you dropped his arm. "You okay? The healing tends to make people a little dizzy afterwards," You helped him stand, and Spider-Man swayed slightly.

Both of the your attentions were attracted when a truck went flying through the air, landing near Rhodey in a fiery explosion. Caught off guard, you recharged your hands, ready for the next attack. Beside you, Spider-Man crouched, as if ready to swing into action in a moment's notice.

Catching up to Tony and a fallen Natasha and Rhodey, you took the woman's arm, while Tony helped his friend.

"All right," Rhodey grunted. "Now I'm pissed."

"Is this part of the plan?" Nat asked Tony.

"Well, my plan was to go easy on them. You wanna switch it up?"

As Captain America's team ran for the hanger across the strip, you could see Vision flying in and cutting them off in their path with a beam from his Mind Stone.

"Captain Rogers," Vision spoke, floating ten feet above the ground, and looking pretty badass. "I know you believe what you're doing is right. "But for the collective good, you must surrender now."

One by one, Iron Man's team assembled across from them, separating Cap's team from the hangars.

Apparently, you figured, the talking was done, because Steve started towards his adversaries.

Beside you, Natasha sighed. "This is gonna end well,"

And with that, both teams were walking towards the other, without the intent to stop. As Captain Rogers picked up the pace, Pete seemed to freak out a bit. "They're not stopping!"

"Neither are we." Tony lamented, and for the first time, you hesitated.

This was your family; how were you supposed to fight against them? Why were they resorting to violence? For a split moment, you despised this life you had. But you couldn't think about that now, not when half of the Avengers (and this 'Lang' character) were running towards you, and certainly not for a hug.

You looked to Spider-Man, who seemed confident. You willed yourself to stay strong, and as Tony, Rhodey, and Vision flew into the air, you hovered as well.

And then the Avengers collided.

As each team member fought their own opponent, you chose to help Spider-Man battle Wanda. The Scarlet Witch threw her red energy blasts towards you with one hand, and launched vehicles at Spider-Man with the other. He made loads of different grunts and yelps as he shot web after web, trying to dodge the trucks. You fought back with your own light blasts, and even tried swiping her out from underneath her feet at one point, but Wanda took you by the foot with her energy and dragged you far away.

You had to hand it to her, she was doing much better at fighting off two people than you had done against one, but you didn't let her win.

You did, however, stop fighting her, as you went to find Steve. You wanted to have a word with him. And by word, you meant a good punch in the face, even if your hand did break in the process.

As you'd just found him, Spider-Man was swinging by, when Steve threw his shield and cut his web. Spider-Man rolled on the roof of a gangway, crouching. You split the distance, so you all stood in a triangular shape.

“Now, now, boy’s let’s play nice, yeah?” You teased, settling your hands on your hips.

"That thing does not obey the laws of physics at all." Spider-Man stated.

“That’s true, Spidey, but neither do I.” You smirked, forming your own shield out of light.

"Fair point, Glow-stick." Spider-Man shrugged, and your cheeks began to glow slightly at your new nickname. Literally.

"Look, kids, there's a lot going on here that you guys don't understand." Steve interrupted, slightly frustrated.

"Mr. Stark said you'd say that, wow." Spider-Man said, before flicking his wrist, shooting a web at Cap's shield, as you grabbed one of Steve's ankles with a Fused whip.

Pulling him towards Spider-Man, you released the energy in your whip, and Spider-Man used the momentum to kick him hard in the chest, sending him flying back into the gangway.

Rolling a good distance away, he laughed, "He also said to go for your legs."

Steve lunged towards his shield, which was a couple feet away from him. Reacting unnaturally quickly, both young heroes restrained the captain. Spider-Man held his hands back with his webs, and you Beamed over, which you could feel a massive energy loss. You kicked the shield away, and while he couldn't use his hands, you used the opportunity to punch him really hard in the jaw.

You yelped, cradling your broken hand against your chest, hopping around as you tried to distract yourself from the pain. Totally worth it, you thought, as you noticed a bruise start to blossom on his jawline.

You could feel the bones start to heal themselves, but you were forced to stand back a little while Steve managed to use Spider-Man's webs to his advantage. Spinning through the air, Steve slingshot Spider-Man back. Once he recovered, he tried to attach a web back onto his shield, but Steve grabbed the web and yanked Spider-Man back, slamming his head against the vibranium.

You cringed for Pete; even with regenerative powers, that was definitely going to leave a mark.

He recovered impressively quickly though, vaulting himself on top of the gangway.

“Stark tell you anything else?” Cap looked up at him.

"That you're wrong; you think you're right. That makes you dangerous." Spider-Man shrugged, then swung himself around the gangway and hurled himself at Steve. The Star Spangled man roundhouse kicked him, sending him flying back into the leg of the gangway.

"Webs!" You gasped, still mildly in pain. You tried to sprint normally over in time to get him out of there, but Steve had already chucked his shield at the leg, causing the structure to fall on Spider-Man.

"Artemis!" Spider-Man yelped, thinking that the gangway was going to strike you, but he lifted his hands up, and caught it. With your good hand, you Fused a light sheet to hold up the structure, or at least help your comrade.

Steve, whom you thought had already left, put his shield back onto his arm. "You got heart, kid. Where you from?"

"Queens." Pete grunted.

Turning, Steve smirked. "Brooklyn." And with that, he bolted.

You saw the light in your peripherals begin to fade, and you whimpered. Spider-Man yelled out in frustration, managing to lift the whole thing on his own. "Go!" He shouted at you, and you did so gladly.

You collapsed not a couple yards from there, while Spider-Man shot a web and yanked himself out from under the structure before it fell. Now free, he ran to you.

You were panting, and you desperately tried not to let your Illusion fade, now that he was over here. That was one thing Tony had stressed. Don’t let him figure out who you were. "Hey, hey, Glow-stick, you okay? Look at me." Spider-Man tended to you, checking you up and down.

"I'm good—go," You gasped, feeling your light mask starting to dissipate. Spider-Man hesitated, but he was forced to change his mind when suddenly, small guy turned big.

"Holy shit!" Spider-Man exclaimed, and you breathed out a tense chuckle. As he left to battle it out with the giant, you crawled behind some boxes.

Letting your powers go, your alter-ego’s white hair faded into your own, and the eyes that turned white when you used your powers, closed. You took deep breaths. Your powers were almost drained, and you used what ever was left into healing your hand. You examined it; you could flex your hand open, but it still felt sore.

After a few painful minutes of recovering, Tony asked, "Okay, anybody on our side hiding any shocking and fantastic abilities they'd like to disclose, I'm open to suggestions. Artemis, I'm talking to you, Light-bulb!"

"Nah, T, the well's gone dry," You winced, and Tony groaned.

The boxes you hid behind suddenly exploded, and it didn't take long for you to find out that Giant dude kicked your hiding spot away. You immediately put back up your facade, sprinting towards Black Panther, who was seconds away from being the giant's new toy.

As Rhodey swept in, Spider-Man swinging along, Hawkeye began to duel with the Wakandan king. Figuring that fight was fair enough, you decided to go and help your team defeat the monster.

Eventually, Rhodey abandoned Lang, and flew off to stop Steve and Barnes from getting to the hangars, leaving you and Spider-Man to defeat Ant-Man yourselves.

Spider-Man scaled the giant, crawling up and over Lang's helmet. You tried to minimize using your powers, so you didn't completely drain them. You mainly shouted directions to your young new friend, telling him points of possible weakness.

Then, Vision used his body as a bowling ball, slamming into Ant-Man's torso and knocking him backwards against an airplane. Vision, now distracted by Captain and Barnes sprinting across the airstrip, phased through Lang.

Visually startled, Ant-Man grasped his chest. "Something just flew in me!"

On the other side of Lang, Vision shot a cutting beam from his Mind Stone, slicing a radio tower in half, causing it to topple over right at the entrance of the hangars.

Too distracted by Spider-Man's cries of frustration, you ignored Wanda's distant cries of pain and the overwhelming sounds of destruction.

"Hey, guys, you ever see that really old movie, Empire Strikes Back?" Spider-Man shouted. You laughed, for what felt like the millionth time.

"Jesus, Tony, how old is this guy?" Rhodes groaned, and you could practically see Tony's eyes rolling.

"I don't know, I didn’t carbon-date him. He's around Artemis’ age, on the young side!" Tony responded.

"You know that part where they're on the snow planet... with the walking thingies?" Spider-Man shouted, swinging himself around Ant-Man's legs.

You Fused another light-rope, grinning as you understood what the boy was saying. "Guys, I think he's onto something!" You attached your rope to Spider-Man's web, and beamed around the giant's legs.

"High, now Tony, go high!" Rhodey instructed Iron Man, who then both flew with their fists aimed at Lang's jaw, knocking him off-balance, and sent him to the ground.

Completely basking in the accomplishment, Pete gave Tony a thumbs up, still slinging around Ant-Man.

"Yes!" Spider-Man laughed. "That was awesome!"

Distracted by Pete's joy, you smiled, your eyes glued on the boy. It was too late by the time you noticed Spider-Man flying straight towards the giant hand, which, in turn, caused Peter to smack straight into you.

Your body taking most of the blow, the two of you crashed through a nearby stack of boxes.

Groaning in pain, you felt your Illusions begin to wear off again. Beside you, Pete was barely conscious, and you struggled to at least keep your hair white. Iron Man came flying to you, and Pete, whose mask was halfway off, was laying on the ground motionless.

Tony looked to you first, but you nodded to Pete. He crouched down at the boy, "Kid you all right?"

Reacting on instinct, Pete began to fight off his attacker, before realizing it was only Tony. "Same side! Guess who. Hi!" Tony grabbed him by the wrists, stopping him from pummeling the multi-billionaire.

Pete calmed down, letting out a sigh of relief. "Oh... hey, man,"

"Yeah."

"That was scary,"

"Yeah," Tony nodded. "You're done, all right?"

Pete blinked. "What? I'm good, I'm fine,"

You groaned, clutching your side. You made a move to stand up. "Pete, you did good job, stay down. Let us handle the rest."

Tony's head whipped to you. "Oh, no, you're both done."

"What?!" You exclaimed, at the same time Pete said, "No it's good, I gotta get him back!"

"You're going home, or I'll call Aunt May!" He yelled at Spider-Man, before turning to you. "And I'll put you in the Dark Room!"

You immediately stopped arguing, eyes going wide at Tony's threat. Tony never used it as a punishment, but the thought alone of going in there made you shudder. Spider-Man, however, wasn't deterred.

"Wait," He whispered, trying to get up. You watched him with weary eyes as he eventually gave up fighting. He slumped back down on the ground, clutching his side.

You laid down beside him, the two of you breathing in heavily as you both tried to recover from the intensity of the battle.

After a couple minutes of relative silence, Peter spoke. "What's the Dark Room?"

You sighed. "It's the place where I go when my powers malfunction," You started, sitting up. Pete perched himself up on his elbows, watching you. "It's a room without windows, no light, completely sound and heat proof, so no one gets hurt."

You trailed off. He then said, “My name’s not actually Pete, by the way. I’m Peter.” He held his hand out to you, his mask now completely off. He was cute, brown eyes and matching hair, tousled from the mask.

Eventually, Tony came back to retrieve you. You said your goodbyes to Peter as Artemis, while you and Tony left on a helicopter. Tony dropped you off at the airport, where you flew back to New York.

The next day, you leaned against the car, waiting for Happy and Peter to get off the jet. For some reason, Tony wanted you to meet Peter as yourself.

Once they landed and exited the plane, you smiled at the two. “Hello, Happy. Hi, Peter.”

Peter looked even cuter today, now in jeans and a shirt with a science pun on it. “Do I know you?”

“I’m Y/N, Mr. Stark’s intern. I’m here to escort you back home.”

And you did. Peter was endearing, and very surprised when you informed him that he was keeping the suit. After the good-byes, and Happy took you back to the Stark tower, you sighed at the sight of a very battered Tony Stark.

You took a chair and faced him, reaching out to heal him. He shook you off, which was not like him. “He killed my parents.” He said, and your heart broke for your father-figure. “Bucky, I mean. But Steve knew.”

“I’m so sorry, Tony.” You said quietly, grabbing his hands for comfort, being careful not to hurt him.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Tony responded, and you nodded.

“Anyways, I wanted to tell you something.” He rose from his chair, walking around into the kitchen. He poured himself a generous glass of bourbon. “You like Peter?”

You shrugged. “Yeah, he’s sweet.”

Tony nodded. “Kid’s got potential.” He agreed. “But I need you to do something. Go on a mission.”

You nodded, liking where this is going.

“Well, he needs some guidance. He’s still a baby superhero, and he’s got a chance of screwing up big time. That’s where you come in.” He took a sip. “You’re seasoned, you’re a wise elder. And you can... help him. Guide him.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “But how am I going to do that?”

Tony smirked, which excited you. That was his ‘I’ve-got-a-plan-and-I’m-up-to-no-good’ face.

“Light-bulb, you’re going to high school.”

427 notes · View notes

golddaggers · 7 years ago

Text

Speak Now

Dylan O’Brien x Reader

(NOT MY GIF)

A/N: I wrote this so long ago and now I’m finally creating the courage to publish it here. I hope you all enjoy. And please, let me know. Feedback is everything.

Warnings: a little bit of cursing and lots of fluff. slightly angsty. also, this was based on the song “speak now” by taylor swift.

Word Count: 1400

"I'm out for five months and when I finally get back, he's about to get married?" I shrieked, shaking my head in disbelief. Frustrated with my response, Julia O’Brien sighed, dropping her shoulders in defeat. She had been the one imbued with the responsibility to tell me the news. But I simply couldn't believe what the girl had told me. I mean, it all happened so fast! There's no way my poor head would be able to assimilate it. In fact, it never even occurred to me that I'd lose the love of my life. No, no way. I should explain how my life came to this mess, right? Oh, well, it all began with me having to go away so I could help my sister out; she had just given birth, to a eight pound baby, yes, poor woman, and needed someone to take care of her, mainly because her husband was this huge wanker and refused to his job as a partner. This, alongside my mother's constant preaching, made me feel bad, which means I ended up accepting it. Of course I didn't want to leave my life behind, but I refused to be the bitch who wouldn't lay a hand to her own flesh and blood.

Do I have to say it was extremely stressful? Fuck, I can swear that I never hated my name more in my entire life. “Y/N, watch out for Jimmy!”, “Y/N, bring me tea!”, “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N!”. I must admit that, for a brief second, I fantasized about killing my sister. Or kill myself. Who knows? It would be a lot faster and I could leave a note blaming my sister for the whole thing. Alright, I'm done with the acid comments.

The real problem was, actually, that she lived in a small town far away from London. It was so isolated that I could pretty much say she lived in a farm. And I couldn't just be travelling all the time, therefore its location forced me to move there. It would only be a few months, so I didn't see why I shouldn't do it. Who would have guessed that, in the meantime, my boyfriend, or so I thought he was, whom I loved and trusted deeply, would get engaged and would be about to marry another woman? Oh, God, he is even at the church right now!

"Y/N, it wasn't his wish to be marrying her. He loves you more than anything in this world. You know that.” Julia argued, her brown eyes trying to persuade me. "Still, my parents forced him to do it. She's the daughter of a big ass business man who works with my father and-”

"Stop it right there!” I quirked a brown, narrowing my eyes, clearly infuriated. “Dylan is grown man, he doesn't need anyone making his choices for him.” "Yeah, Y/N, but you have to understand he wasn't given much of a choice..." “I don't want to, and I won't, understand this, Jules.” My voice was strangled, I could feel the tears welling up on my eyes. “I can't do this.” Oh, fuck no! I would not let my gorgeous pumpkin tie the knot with someone else without at least explaining to me what the hell was this entire thing about. Clumsily standing up from the couch I was sitting on, I ran out of the house, not even giving a word to my former sister-in-law. I needed to act quick, otherwise I would lose him forever. “I'm not a kind of girl Who should be rudely barging on a white veil occasion But you are not the kind of boy Who should be marrying the wrong girl" Julia had said that the church was close to their home, so I didn't bother to get my car and drive there. It was time to put into practice all my years of jogging. It didn’t take long for me to spot the beautiful arranged place. The same one his parents got married.

Due to my running, the short sundress I had on was drenched in sweat; not that I cared, though. I could only set my thoughts on the lots of people who were coming in and out of the church. By the looks of it, the ceremony was yet to start.

I stealthily walked in, watching the guests buzzing around me and trying to recognise them; but they were completely unknown. That was until I found his best friend standing next to the old looking priest. Tyler had a tired expression on his face, like he rather be anywhere else but here. I saw his other friends as well; they were seated on the front row, mirroring Posey's traits. No one appearing to be happy. Not even her parents, who set it all up. “I sneak in and see your friends And her snotty little family all dressed in pastels” As I went a little deeper into the church, I heard someone loudly complaining in the back. I quickly recognised the grumpy person as Britt Robertson, Dylan's ex. He had told me about her a few times and I never really pictured her as the obsessive type. I was obviously wrong.

Britt was yelling at one of her bridesmaids, clearly quite annoyed by something the poor girl had done prior my arrival. But, as much as I was delighted to hear her in such a bad mood, I still wanted to find Dylan in that sea of people. In my mind, I thought I could convince him to ditch this whole thing and run away with me.

Nevertheless, before I could find him, the nuptial march started to play in the background, announcing the wedding’s beginning. Despite it being a joyful sound, I started to feel nauseated by it and a few disgusted shivers went down my spine.

From behind a curtain, I watched her slowly walk inside the church, so full of herself, looking like a freaking model. My mind screamed that I should be the one in her shoes. Wearing a white gown, moving happily towards the man I loved, not her. Not someone who treated him like a prize.

"And the organ starts to play A song that sounds like a death march And I am hiding in the curtains It seems that I was uninvited By your lovely bride to be She floats down the aisle like A pageant queen" When she got there, everyone sat down and I was finally able to see him. Dylan was standing next to the priest, looking handsome as ever in a black tuxedo. His brown hair messy, his pink lips in a straight line and a ghost of the scruff I loved so much against my legs were there, brightening him. Everything seemed to be unchanged. Except for his eyes. The beautiful whiskey coloured eyes I fell for had lost the sparkling beam I saw every time he looked at me. They seemed tired. Sad. Which should make me happy, but instead, I was saddened, a sinking feeling reaching my stomach as if I had been punched.

Fear crept through my form completely, making my hands shake and making me forget what I was supposed to say. Should I really disrupt this marriage? Would I be this kind of girl? The answer was clear in my head: Yes, I would. Despite being selfish, I needed Dylan in my life. I could not afford to lose him.

I bit my bottom lip, sitting down and deciding to wait for a while. It wasn't the time to speak up. No, I'd wait for the priest's words, then I would act. Yes, it sounds like a good plan. "Do not say yes, let's run away now, I'll meet you in the aisle of the church by the back door Do not wait, or say a single vow, You need to hear me out, And they said speak now" The minute I heard him say “speak now or forever hold your peace”, I knew I couldn't wait any longer. I had to stop this bloody joke right now. So I rushed to the church's entrance, walking down the red carpet until I was in front of the couple. In front of him. He seemed surprised when our gazes mingled together, but it swiftly faded away, being replaced by tenderness. Only then his lips curled into a smile. Plus, in that moment, I didn’t care how crazy this was, I just went and linked our mouths together, fully aware of the horrified looks everyone was shooting at us. I couldn’t care less, though.

I pulled away, locking my gaze on Dylan’s. Suddenly, it all felt right again, despite my awful bad timing. He gave me a reassuring look, squeezing my hand and making me feel unique, like he always did. Oh, damn you, O’Brien!

“Don’t this to me please.” I quietly begged, not bothering to understand Britt’s angry squeals. “I love you so much, Dyl.”

“And I love you, Y/N.” He then looked at everyone inside the church, his eyes apologetic. “I’m so sorry, but I can’t marry. Not when I love her. This was a huge mistake.”

“I hear the preacher say 'Speak now or forever hold your peace' There's a silence, there's my last chance, I stand up with shaky hands All eyes on me, Horrified looks from everyone in the room But I'm only looking at you"

I never really believed in fairytales or happy endings. It just wasn't my thing. However, from time to time, they do happen. And as I firmly intertwined Dylan's slim fingers on mine, running far away from that dreadful scene, I was sure that I would never again doubt that true love existed.

Not ever.

"And you'll say" let's run away now,

I'll meet in the aisle in my tux by the back door

Baby, I did not see myself,

I'm glad you were around

When they said speak now "

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bethica1214-blog · 8 years ago

Text

Up North - Peaceful Valley

After several summers spent at Higgins Lake, Mother and Daddy sold that property and bought a summer home outside of Acme, Michigan, on the eastern arm of Grand Traverse Bay. The house had once been part of a summer resort called Peaceful Valley, which had a number of such buildings clustered together. The building we moved into stood by itself. It had a garage, three bedrooms, an eat-in kitchen, and a large living room. We couldn’t really see the water from anywhere in the house, because it was set back quite a way from the cliff that overlooked the beach and bay. I don’t remember how many steps we had to climb down or up, but it was quite a few. Each spring, after the winter storms, we had to repair several steps. We also gathered massive mats of pine needles to spread on the long driveway to keep the dust down.

I remember standing at the top of the stairs to the beach and being right at the same level as the Coast Guard helicopters that patrolled that part of the bay. Since Grand Traverse Bay was part of Lake Michigan, the Coast Guard watched for trouble and helped in emergencies. We would wave at the pilots, who always waved back.

The people who owned the resort had a daughter who was somewhere near Doug and me in age, and when she wasn’t helping her parents run the resort, she would join us on the beach for swimming and hunting for Petoskey stones. Sometimes there would be families staying there who also had kids our age, and we would splash and scream happily – sometimes too happily, and certainly too loudly. I had a scream that could be heard across the bay (according to Mother). But we spent many happy days in that cottage, and because we were playing with children from the resort, we had a lot more beachfront to roam. The resort had paddle boards, and we loved paddling around the man-made inlets. Cinnamon would sometimes jump aboard, but he was happier swimming than riding the wobbly board.

Anne and Holly shared a room at one end of the house, and that was also where the television was. So if there was some program Mother and Daddy wanted to watch, Anne and Holly had to stay up until the show was over. Doug had his own bedroom, which he shared with Pim or Eric, when they were living with us. My “room” was actually a hallway next to Mother and Daddy’s master bedroom. I had to share a closet and dresser, I think, with Doug. There was an outside door from my “room” to the front porch, but it was kept locked and served only as my window. But the room was scarcely private: Mother and Daddy had to go through on their way to or from their bedroom.

The beach was a perfect place to find Petoskey stones. These stones are fossilized colony creatures, like coral, which form a rock with hexagonal markings, and after centuries of rolling around on the bottom of the lake, they end up on the shore (mainly the northeast shores of Lake Michigan). Local artisans cut and polish these stones to make jewelry and bric-a-brac. We collected them to give to out-of-state visitors, as the stone has been designated the State Stone of Michigan and so represented something unique to the area.

One of the most fascinating qualities of these stones, at least to me, is that they lie there on the sand looking like almost any other rock. In fact, there were always more interesting-looking rocks, which we also collected. The Petoskey stone must be placed in the water for its markings to become clear. We would shout triumphantly when we had correctly chosen a Petoskey stone and proven that it was what we had thought it was.

We occasionally gathered driftwood and built a big fire on the beach in the evening. Neighbors would join us, bringing hot dogs and marshmallows, and we would have an informal cookout. I still like my hot dogs a little charred on the outside, though I’m just has happy when there is no sand on the outside from dropping it. The long summer twilights also made long walks along the beach a very pleasurable experience. Doug and I would skip stones into the water as we walked along, and Cinnamon would run ahead and then come trotting back to us, very pleased with the whole expedition.

One of my favorite daytime activities was walking to the Acme Post Office, about a mile away. The road from the wide-open resort area to the little village was kind of a tunnel of overarching tree branches, cool and inviting. Our mail was always General Delivery because we weren’t permanent residents, and we felt important asking for “any mail for Robinson.”

Since we were now closer to a city which boasted a Christian Science Church, we went to church every Sunday. I remember one of my Sunday School teachers was Helen Milliken. Several years later, when I met William Milliken, who was running for Governor of Michigan at the time, I said, “Oh, yes. Your mother was my Sunday School teacher!” There was an awkward silence, and then Mother said, “I think she must mean your wife.” Well, Mrs. Milliken had lovely silver hair, and William looked very young. At my age, I think I can be forgiven for that slip.

One of the logistical decisions when we moved to Peaceful Valley was where to put Salt and Pepper, the two cats. Mother and Daddy solved this by purchasing a cage from the friends on Higgins Lake who raised chinchillas. This cage was plenty big enough for the two cats to have room to bounce around a little, and it kept them safe on the porch at night, especially if covered by a rug. Mother just didn’t want cats roaming around the house, and there were doors only on the bedrooms (except mine) and bathrooms.

One visitor I especially remember was a young lady who had, with her family, escaped from East Berlin just after the Berlin Wall had been built. She could speak English a little, but not much, and she could read very little English. Since I was a voracious reader, Mother suggested that I might like to teach this girl to read English. She was only with us for a short time, but I really enjoyed being “teacher” for a short time. She was a very fast learner, and she was also very appreciative of the time I spent with her. She was also the first person I had ever met who had pierced ears. It was a little weird to me to see her poke the stud of the earring through her ear; I didn’t realize there was a hole there for the purpose, and it no longer hurt.

One summer Holly went to Interlochen Music Camp, which was not far from Traverse City. She would come to visit us on weekends, and we went to the camp several times to attend concerts and productions Holly took part in. one weekend, Mother decided to give Holly a perm, but started too late. The part of the perm that stops the chemical reaction didn’t have time to do its work fully, and Holly had to go back to camp with hair a lot curlier than intended.

The town of Acme had a drive-in theater, and we would sometimes all pile into the station wagon and go to the movie. I remember seeing “Gone With the Wind” and “Ben Hur” at that theater. Mother would make popcorn before we left home, and pack a bag with popcorn, apples, and bottles of Vernor’s. We younger kids would put on our pajamas so we could go right to bed when we got home.

Acme was closer to Petoskey and that wonderful Games Imported store, and we also drove on other explorations. When the nuclear power plant was opened, we went there for a tour and a series of lectures. We also crossed the Mackinac Bridge a few times to visit the Upper Peninsula. Some of our family’s friends had a summer home on Lake Superior, and we visited them. I couldn’t understand why anyone would want to have a summer home on a lake that was so cold! Swimming would not be much fun there.

Peaceful Valley was our summer home into my early teens. Doug and I were both old enough to be allowed to be on our own (and trusted to stay within certain boundaries), and the times were such that Mother and Daddy felt confident to leave us on our own with no fears for our safety. We happily played most of the day away outside either in the woods or at the beach. One thing I never thought about at the time was, what was Mother doing all that time when she was alone in that house? I’m sure she found something to occupy her time.

Petoskey Stone

#biographies & memoirs #michigan #acme #petoskey

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