A family can be a depressed rich orphan in a bat costume, an immortal half-goddess amazon princess, the king of Atlantis, a nerdy scientist who runs a lot, an athlete with cybernetic enhancements, a dead kryptonian, and a green space cop who arrives 15 minutes late with Starbucks, and I think that’s beautiful.
When it comes to doing exercise, there is no right or wrong way to do it! If you enjoy playing soccer, then do that! Or if you love going for a jog, then by all means, do it! One should not cage them self in the gym and tear themselves apart simply to look a certain way. You need to show yourself the love and care that you deserve, and really just get moving in a way that makes you genuinely happy!
Bitty loved Jack, okay? He really, really did. He loved how sweet Jack could be, and his odd sense of humour, and how Jack could sit and patiently listen to Bitty ramble on about pie filling with nothing more than a gentle smile on his face.
Bitty did not, however, love Jack’s enthusiasm for morning runs. In fact, it was one of the few things Bitty resolutely did not like about Jack.
(He loved how chipper he looked while running, sure, but not the physical act of running at 5 AM. There was a special place in hell for 5 AM runs.)
Still trying my best every single day! I’m not too sure what it is that I’m fighting for, or where exactly I’m headed towards, but none the less I am still going to give it everything that I’ve got!
I might not be the slimmest, strongest, or fastest athlete out there, but who would we be if we gave up on ourselves for that reason? We have so much to offer and so many talents to expand; regardless of what level one is at; one must keep going.
My friend called me today and told me to go for a run. She said, “just go. Sweat it out. Run it out. Just go for 10 minutes.”
She knows I’ve been having a hard few days. She knows I broke down crying multiple time yesterday and that I made choices I shouldn’t have last night just for the sake of trying to numb the pain. I didn’t want to run. I didn’t want to even move. I wanted to stay in my apartment and ignore the world outside. But I decided she was right and I should give the run a chance. I begrudgingly put on my running clothes, laced up my sneakers, and hit “run” on my watch. Within a few minutes, I felt lighter. I was freezing. The rain was annoying. My hands were numb. But I didn’t fee numb anymore. I felt like I could temporarily breathe again. I felt the rain wash away everything that’s been weighing down my heart, mind, and soul. I turned into my driveway soaked and tired but feeling like maybe, just maybe, I can make it through.
Hey y’all, so I’m not really a reference blog exactly, but I figured I would share some of my experience in writing (and in life) with a character type that a lot of people seem unsure of how to represent. That would be characters with partial or complete blindness. I myself have one character who is completely blind, and I too am on the low-sighted spectrum, so I figured I’d clear up a few misconceptions about characters with blindness! This is a long post, so part of it is under a read-more, but I include subjects ranging from medical details to describing non-visual senses to handling romantic relationships.
1) Blindness is totally a spectrum. Someone who is legally blind at 20/200 vision doesn’t see “nothing but black”. In fact, people who are legally blind can sometimes see enough to use some adjusted devices or read large-print books! Legal blindness (or low vision) means that someone’s eyesight is very poor even with their highest corrective lenses. 20/200 means that something 20 feet away from them has the same definition as something 200 feet away from a well-sighted person. That’s why 20/20 vision often represents “perfect” vision, because objects at 20 feet look like they’re… well, 20 feet away. Sometimes, legal blindness can be caused by natural degeneration from severe myopia (nearsightedness) from age, extreme strain, or just genetics.
2) When thinking of what a visually impaired person experiences as far as sight, ask yourself if the description is necessary first, then listen to interviews or podcasts for a description if you do need it. Please don’t take the word of someone with no eye function at all and apply it to someone with severe myopia or cataracts, because blindness varies. People with one cause of blindness may have cloudy vision, extremely blurred vision, ‘missing’ spots in their sight, or lack of color, while someone without any eye function (or without any eyes at all) will wonder why you’d even ask! Often “a black void” or “nothing but white” isn’t exactly true. Someone who doesn’t see color or light won’t see a lack of light either! Black? White? What? You really don’t have to even describe what they “see” unless they are partially-sighted.
3) Characters with all forms of disability can still do some badass
shit. They can defend themselves as well as another character, they can
learn to navigate a new space, they can play games and run and be
athletic. They can be artists, musicians, or even own their own
business. They can do their own household chores. They can be great
parents. They can use modern tools and devices with the right adjustments. Don’t be afraid to let them accept - or ask for - help, but
please don’t make it seem as though they’ve become useless. Give them
all kinds of talents! (for example, my visually impaired muse can
channel spirits, tends to her own herb garden, and is a classically-trained soprano. Possibilities are
endless, you guys!)
4) Cause of blindness should be known if you insist on describing your character’s full facial appearance and how their blindness affects them. But remember this: you don’t have to draw attention to the appearance of someone’s eyes constantly. Don’t let that be the only thing that defines them. Here are a few tips though: many people who are legally blind have very ordinary-looking eyes. The cloudy white/blue eyes you often see is usually from diseases like cataracts, while paled eyes without visible pupils may be from congenital (childhood) glaucoma. Other forms of glaucoma cause black spots in the iris. Cataracts and glaucoma can coexist in one person. Eyes can have an inflamed red sclera from bacterial infection-induced blindness such as meningitis. Some infectious diseases require removal of the eyes (we see this in cats and other animals all the time). There are tons more reasons. When researching the cause of your character’s blindness, pay attention to the level of impairment, because not all causes of blindness have the same outcome!
5) People whose eyes have nerve damage don’t always move perfectly together. As tempting as it is to give your visually impaired character the ability to eerily stare directly into someone else’s gaze all the time, often people who lack nerve control in the eyes have issues of mobility now and again or even constantly: eyes that move independently, one or both eyes that won’t move at all, one pupil stuck in full dilation (anisocoria), and they may not be aware that their eyes are moving in odd places. Please don’t use this as fuel for humor, as some folk go out of their way to cover their eyes constantly because of this. Speaking of cover, not all visually impaired people wear sunglasses like the cliche in movies. Many will wear them in public because their eyes are very sensitive to light rays or because the light gives them horrible headaches, while others choose to cover their eyes because they’re aware that their eyes lack mobility control or they’re shy about a drooping lid/etc. Not everyone who has problems with vision wears something over their eyes.
More information on memories, relationships, and making the best of five senses are in the read-more!
Tegla Loroupe (b. 1973) is a long-distance
runner from Kenya. She has been the World Half-marathon champion three times,
and held the world marathon record, as well as the records for 20, 25, and 30
She has won several
important marathons, such as the New York, London, and Berlin ones.
Additionally, she is a devoted advocate for women’s rights and education,
establishing a school and an orphanage in her native Kenya. She founded the
Tegla Loroupe Peace Foundation, promoting world peace through sports and
Music pounds in your ears as you sprint around the track, furiously swinging your arms. Legs straining, you round the turn, approaching the invisible spot on the track you’d marked as your starting place. The smooth sounds of James Blake carry through the headphones you wear, so incongruous with the frantic motion of your body as you run.
Warnings: Gosh darn profanity and I think that’s about it
A/N: I don’t know how the train system works in Queens so let’s pretend it made sense okay guys? Also I am in love with this part like wow. Sorry for the length, might wanna grab some snacks and get comfortable folks
I must have seen the video at least 30 times before I decided that it was real. I slowed down the video by
carefully dragging my thumb across the screen, trying to find a flaw in the editing -but this seemed authentic; he couldn’t possibly fake all of it. This was all just hard to believe.
Was he out fighting crime right now? Is that why I heard sirens in the background?
All this time, it was Peter Parker who helped protect Queens. The same Peter Parker who fought the Avengers and defeated the Vulture guy a couple of months ago.
He’s just a kid, how is he capable of doing this? How can he balance school life and fight crime? What about that Stark intern-
I audibly gasped when I realized that the Stark internship he talked about was probably a cover for being freaking Spider-Man!
I heard scratching at my door and knew immediately that Buddy wanted to come into my room. I got off my bed and opened my door. Right when I opened it, Buddy ran to my bed and made himself comfortable, panting loudly. I gently closed the door and joined him on the bed. Looking back at the phone, I mindlessly pet Buddy.
“Okay,” I said finally. “If I’m supposed to believe all this, I should do some investigating. Like Sherlock does,” I said to Buddy. He merely blinked at me, trying to lick my hand. “I can solve this case, right Bud?” I cooed, ruffling up his ears.
“Sweetheart! Dinner’s ready!” my mom called from the dining room.
Buddy perked up at the sound of my mom’s voice and ran to my door.
“Traitor,” I muttered, following Buddy to free him from my room. Once I opened my door, Buddy ran to the living room as if his life depended on it. Rolling my eyes, I trudged behind. I patted my jeans to make sure the phone was still there; I kept Peter’s phone in my pocket so that Michael couldn’t get to it. I sat down at the dinner table, mentally planning out my next move.
“Your dad told me you got your tickets, isn’t that exciting?” my mom chirped, serving herself some food.
I served my own plate and said, “Mmhm.”
“Calm down honey, you don’t want to get too happy now,” she said, quirking an eyebrow at me.
I smiled slightly and said, ”I am excited, really, but the concert isn’t for another couple of months, you know? I’m just tired anyway.”
“You wouldn’t be so tired if you slept early, like I always tell you to,” my mom scolded, taking a bite.
“It’s cause you’re always on that phone,” Michael said, in a teasing voice.
I laughed, “Shut up Mike.”
“Got a head ache?” he asked me.
“It’s cause you’re always on that phone,” I finished, chuckling.
He lightly laughed back and said, “You don’t even have your phone though.”
I narrowed my eyes at him as he ate, realizing that I now had to explain to my parents why I didn’t have my phone.
“You lost your phone?” my mom exclaimed.
“Again?” my dad added from the living room.
“No, I didn’t lose it. I know exactly where it is,” I said, sipping my water.
“Not here,” Mikey snickered.
I kicked him under the table and mouthed, “Shut it.”
“Where is it?” my mom asked.
I waved my hand absentmindedly and said, “I accidentally took my friend’s phone and vice versa.”
“What friend?” my dad asked, lowering the volume on the TV.
I knew I couldn’t say it was Peter’s, because God forbid I talk to boys, so I said, “Michelle’s.”
My dad nodded, satisfied with that answer, resuming his attention to the basketball game.
“Oh, so you’ll just switch back at school then?” my mom added.
“Yup,” I said, popping the “p.” “But maybe we’ll meet up over the weekend or something if she wants it back sooner, I don’t know yet.”
I continued eating until I felt the phone vibrate. I got startled and slightly choked on my water. “Speaking of Michelle, that must be her. I gotta take this, dinner was great Mom!” I rambled, grabbing my dishes as I left the table to throw them in the sink -careful not to break any. I vaguely heard my mom telling me to slow down as I sprinted to my room, hastily answering the call.
“Hello?” I breathed, closing my door.
“Y/N?” Peter asked.
I inhaled sharply and let out a breath, trying to even it out. “Yeah,” I said, going to sit down on my bed.
“Is this a bad time?” he asked, uncertain.
“No, it’s a great time I was just, um, out on a run. With my dog. Buddy. Just came back, so, that’s why I sound out of breath,” I chuckled nervously.
Why did I tell him I went out for a run? I’m not athletic. God, this is so bad.
“Oh,” he said, “that’s nice. It’s a good day for a run, I suppose.”
“Yeah, I run all the time,” I lied. “You know, from my problems and stuff. I just decided to switch it up today,” I added dumbly.
I got a laugh from him and I smiled as he said, “That’s a good one.”
“Thanks,” I replied, “sooo…what’s up?” I got up from my bed and walked around my room.
“Oh, um, I was just calling back to apologize for earlier. I got caught up with the Stark internship,” he explained.
Right. The “Stark internship.” Time to investigate.
“How is that, by the way?” I asked, “the internship, I mean.”
“Th- the internship? Oh, it’s, uh, great! Keeps me real busy,” he stumbled.
“I could only imagine, I mean, it’s run by Tony Stark -Iron Man himself, right?” I prodded.
“Ye-yeah, Mr. Stark is great. I don’t see him directly, too often, but, he’s definitely great from the few times that I met him,” he said, sounding nervous.
“What does he have you do?” I asked innocently.
“He has us do lot’s of paper work, you know, the boring stuff,” he said. “It’s not that interesting if I’m being honest, you wouldn’t wanna hear about it.”
“Try me,” I said smirking.
“Um, well, some of the paper work is classified so I can’t exactly talk about it,” he explained.
Damn it, he got me there.
“Ah, well, that’s okay,” I said, quickly thinking of something else to ask. “Have you met any of the other Avengers while you were there? Like, that new one, the Spider-Man guy?”I asked, anxiously waiting to hear his answer.
“Spider-Man? Um, yeah, we’ve met. A few times,” he said, sounding unsure of himself.
“I bet he’s so cool in real life, huh?” I asked.
“Yeah, he’s pretty awesome. I mean he single-handily took down a villain who used high-tech alien weapons, so, I’d say he’s cool,” Peter said, sounding cocky.
“I heard he has a weird voice though, is that true?” I lied.
“Wh- what? No! He doesn’t have a weird voice, where’d you hear that?” he exclaimed, his voice rising.
I bit my lip to hide my smile, “Oh, you know, here and there.” I picked at my nails and then said, “People talk.”
“You don’t seriously believe he has a weird voice, do you?” he asked.
“Mm, I don’t know. Maybe. I also heard he was rude to some people who wanted a picture of him,” I said, making up things as I went.
“What!” he exclaimed, his voice rising a pitch higher. He cleared his throat then said, “That never happened.”
“Yeah,” I exclaimed, “shot a web at the camera, and everything!”
Peter scoffed, “I don’t think Spider-Man would do that.”
“Who knows,” I added, “it’s not like we actually know him right? He could be a total asshole in real life for all I know.”
“He could be,” Peter reluctantly said. “But I, I think he’s an okay guy. Maybe you’ll get to meet him and see for yourself?”
“That’d be sick, but, I highly doubt it,” I sighed, playing along.
“Who knows, right?” Peter mused. “I think you could find him around Queens or something doing superhero stuff.”
Or at the library studying for a Spanish quiz, I mentally added.
I chuckled slightly, “People don’t just run into superheroes, Peter.”
“Keep an open mind, Y/N,” Peter chuckled. “Hey, what are you doing tomorrow?”
Peter caught me off guard with his sudden change in topic, “Um, nothing much? I was going to return a book to the library and then just chill or something.”
“The one on 21st?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said, not really sure why he was suddenly interested in this.
Maybe he’s purposely changing the subject away from Spider-Man.
“Cool, how about, we meet there? Tomorrow? At noon? We can exchange phones then,” he offered.
“Oh, right, yeah,” I said, forgetting we had to actually plan a meet up. “Works for me,” I confirmed.
“And, uh, I didn’t look through your stuff, if you’re wondering,” he chuckled.
“Me either, if you were wondering, as well,” I said, swallowing my guilt.
I am a terrible human.
“But you did get a text from MJ,” Peter said, “not that I purposely read it -I mean -I couldn’t help it, it just popped up, you know?”
“That’s okay Peter, I don’t mind.” I said, feeling even worse.
I can’t keep lying to him
“Um, something did happen though,” I said, wincing.
“What?” he asked, confused.
“With your phone,” I hesitantly said.
“Something happened to my phone?” Peter asked.
Should I just come clean? I still have time to back out.
“My brother…” I started, “dropped it. I asked him to hand it to me, but I didn’t have…good…reflexes. And I’m really sorry.”
Not a total lie? I do have bad reflexes…
“Oh,” Peter sighed, “that’s okay, I don’t mind a scratch or two.”
Oh my god -I am a terrible person. How can I just lie to Peter like this?
“Yeah, I just felt really terrible about it, I thought you should know,” I said, closing my eyes at how dumb I was.
“Y/N, it’s totally fine! Don’t worry about it, really, I’m okay with it,” he said reassuringly.
I hate you Peter Parker, you good human being you. Oh, who am I kidding, I hate myself.
I sighed, “Actually, it’s not fine. I need to tell you something else.”
“What is it?” he asked.
Right as I was about to confess my sin, the phone started to vibrate. I took it away from my ear and saw that I, or Peter, was getting a call from an unknown number.
“Um, hold on, you’re getting a call from an unknown number, I’ll just answer it real quick and see who it is,” I said, thinking nothing of it. Vaguely hearing Peter protest, it was too late as I hit the green button. Not getting a chance to even say “hello,” there was a man’s voice already talking.
“Yo, spiderling, I made some minor upgrades to the prototype suit I’ve been working on. You don’t need to thank me right away, but I do believe some praise is due,” he said. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
Oh my god, it’s Tony Stark.
“Kid?” he asked after hearing my lack of reply.
“Um, Peter’s not here right now,” I said, weakly.
The line went quiet for a few seconds until I heard, “I’m sorry, and, who’s this?”
“Peter’s,” I paused, thinking, “friend.”
Can I even call myself that?
“Well. You can disregard this whole phone call. But. Where exactly is Peter?” Tony asked.
“Um, home? We switched phones by mistake,” I explained.
“Great, and seriously, ignore this phone call. It never happened,” he said, before cutting off the call.
I kept the phone pressed against my ear, stunned at what just happened.
Peter really is Spider-Man. This just confirmed everything.
“Hello? Y/N? Are you there? Did you answer the call?” Peter asked, sounding worried.
I cleared my throat before responding, “Um, yeah, I’m here.”
Peter stayed quiet and then tried to casually ask, “So, um, who was it?”
“It was…” I hesitantly said, “Tony Stark.”
“Oh, Mr. Stark called me?” he nervously laughed, “that’s weird. Why would Mr. Stark call me at this hour? What did he, uh, what did he say?”
“Actually Peter, I have to go right now, but, I’ll tell you about it tomorrow, okay?” I sighed. I just really needed to sleep; too much had happened today for me to process.
“Really? Do you have to go right now? We can stay up and talk some more? I mean, it’s Friday, I’m not too busy,” Peter said, trying to stay on the line.
“I’m really sorry Peter,” I whispered, feeling overwhelmed with guilt. “I’ll explain everything tomorrow, I promise.”
“Um, yeah, okay. No big deal,” he said, trying to sound cool about it. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
“Yeah,” I said, “tomorrow.”
I heard Peter say goodbye and then I hung up.
I couldn’t stand to hear his voice anymore. Under different circumstances, I would love nothing more than to hear Peter talk all day, but right now, I was lying to this sweet, dorky guy who didn’t deserve this. I clutched the phone to my chest and closed my eyes.
“What have I done,” I whispered.
I woke up the next morning, dreading what was to come. I had to face Peter and I was not mentally prepared to do that.
Looking in the mirror as I applied my mascara, I hated my reflection. I mean I looked good, but, I hated my inner self right now. I hate that I invaded Peter’s privacy and found out something that I shouldn’t have. Now I have to go and explain what an awful person I am to my crush -who will literally hate me when he finds out what I did.
Once I was ready to leave, I grabbed my book-bag and told my dad I was heading out.
“Call me when you get there, okay?” he reminded me.
“Yeah, I will!” I called out as I closed the front door. I made my way down the stairs of our porch and walked to the train station. I texted Peter a quick message saying I was on the way there, not looking forward to this at all.
On the train, I mindlessly looked around, waiting to get to my stop. It wasn’t until I heard a distant scream that I snapped out of my thoughts.
What the hell was that?
The rest of the passengers looked confused too, and we all looked to the right where the scream had come from. I heard two loud bangs on the car over, followed by a chorus of screams. Everyone dropped to the floor and I saw two armed men point guns at the passengers. They were yelling something, but it was muffled due to the distance. Everyone in this passenger car dropped to the floor as well, and with shaky hands, I did too.
Oh my god, please tell me this isn’t really happening. What do I do?
My hands immediately went to my phone, ready to call 911, or even say goodbye to my family when I realized that there was an alternative option.
I hastily pulled out Peter’s phone, trying to unlock it with my trembling fingers. I managed to dial my number, and held the phone up to my ear. I anxiously waited and kept looking up to make sure the gun men didn’t see me or walk in here yet. This was the car at the end of the train, so hopefully they won’t get here so soon.
“Hey Y/N!” Peter happily chirped, “I saw your text, don’t worry, I’m on my way-”
I cut off Peter, whispering, “Peter, help me, please.”
“Y/N? What’s wrong?” he asked, sounding worried.
“I- I’m on the train that’s heading to 21st street. It’s, it’s Train B. We’re -there’s, there’s some guys -” I was cut off by a huge screech. Someone hit the emergency stop on the train and we all got tossed to the left. The phone skidded out of my hands and I whispered, “Shit, shit, shit,” I crawled towards it, realizing I had to move fast.
“What was that? What’s going on?” Peter said, sounding out of breath. I think he was running. “Y/N? Are you there, are you alright? Talk to me, Y/N, please.”
“They stopped the train,” I whispered, looking around. “And they have guns.”
“I’m on my way, don’t hang up okay, just, keep talking to me. Tell me everything you see, everything you can, I’ll get some help, I promise,” he said, in an assertive voice.
“I’m so sorry Peter,” I rambled nervously, “I am so so sorry. I, I saw the video.”
If I’m going to die, I want to tell Peter the truth.
“Why do you keep saying sorry? What video?” Peter breathed as I heard rustling in the background.
“The video on your phone about going to Berlin. I know Peter, I just, I know,” I sighed. I heard another bang and flinched. With a trembling voice, I whispered softly, “I’m sorry.” I closed my eyes and tried to maintain calm.
I’m going to die here
“None of that matters anymore -I don’t care about that right now, okay Y/N? It doesn’t matter, I forgive you. Just, keep talking. Stay on the line. Tell me what you see, it’ll be okay, I’m on my way to you,” he replied.
I took a deep breath, composing myself. “Okay,” I sighed, leaning up to see the train car next door. “They’re lining people up against one side of the train. There’s two of them in there, there could be more, I don’t, I don’t know,” I numbly said.
“You’re doing great, just keep talking. I’m almost there,” he said.
I saw one of the men look towards our car and head to the door that separated us. “Fuck, fuck, no no no,” I said, starting to panic even more.
“What? What is it?” Peter exclaimed.
“He’s coming, I don’t know if i can keep talking Peter,” I whispered, “I’m not going to hang up but please hurry.”
I couldn’t hear Peter’s reply as I shoved the phone in my jean jacket’s pocket. The man barged in and yelled, “Everyone move to this side and stay down!”
He motioned us to move against the opposite side, and people did so, whimpering in fear. I took deep breaths and did as we were told. I looked around at the other passengers and saw that there was children with their mothers, hiding their cries. There were also kids my age, and even some elderly people.
I don’t want any of them to die
For the most part, it seemed like we all mutually agreed to do what the man said -there were no protests from any of the passengers. There was, however, an older woman who was crying and mumbling prayers in Spanish on her knees.
“You!” the man harshly yelled, aiming the gun at the woman. “Shut the fuck up and get down.”
She merely closed her eyes tighter, and kept praying, tears slipping down her face.
Lady please just do what he says, I mentally pleaded.
She remained unmoved, and I whispered to myself, “C’mon lady.”
The fact that she didn’t submit irritated the man, so he yelled at her, “Did you fucking hear me?” He stalked closer to her.
I sighed to myself and quietly muttered, “Don’t do it Y/N, don’t do it. Don’t do anything stupid, just mind your own business.”
The gun man, seemingly impatient, only got angrier at her lack of compliance. He aimed the gun at her head, ready to pull the trigger, and yelled, “You have three seconds before I-”
“No, wait!” I cried out, before I could stop myself.
I sat up on my knees and raised my hands in surrender when he aimed the gun at me instead. Swallowing my fear, I pleaded, starting to stand, “Don’t shoot her, please, she’s just -she’s just praying.”
I stared at the barrel of the gun, physically frozen in fear. I couldn’t move, but I had a million thoughts running through my mind.
“I don’t give a shit what she’s doing kid. Tell her to stop, or I’ll put a bullet through both of your heads,” he angrily muttered, not once taking his aim off of me.
I swallowed thickly and with a trembling voice, I quietly replied, “I’m, I’m not that good at Spanish, sir.”
“What did you say?” he spat at me, stepping closer.
I held back a whimper and repeated myself, “I-I can’t tell her to stop, I, I don’t know much Spanish.”
Glaring at me, he pressed the barrel of the gun against my forehead, “Listen here you little bi-”
I closed my eyes tightly, and held my breath.
This is it. This is how I die. I just had to open my stupid mouth-
My thoughts were cut off when I heard a huge crash, and glass breaking from behind me. I visibly flinched, and reacted by dropping to the floor, covering my head in the process. I stayed crouched down, quickly moving out of the way and could hear gun shots. They weren’t aimed at me, however, they were being aimed at something behind me.
“Hey buddy! You made me miss my train!” I heard a voice shout.
Sneaking a glance, I saw that the man was now fighting Spider-Man, trying to shoot him. At each gun shot, I flinched, but was relieved when Spider-Man managed to kick it out of his hands. Spider-Man somehow dodged every hit, saying witty comments that I couldn’t focus on, and knocked the gun man out cold. He didn’t have much time to relax because two more guys ran in here to fight him as well. Now ignoring the passengers, the men were focused solely on Spider-Man. The people on the train screamed, and scrambled to get to the other car seeing that the gun men were all in this one instead. I tried to follow them, but with everyone pushing to get to the front, I was left at the very back -along with the old woman. She didn’t have the strength to shove people out of the way, so I led her in front of me, gently encouraging her. I turned back to see Spider-Man shoot a web at one of the guys, and roughly pulled it towards him. The guy’s body made contact with the steel pole in the middle of the train, and with a final grunt, he was down.
I turned my attention back to the old woman, and saw that we both made it through the doors. Seeing as I was the last person in, I hastily went to close the doors. People kept moving up the train, determined to put as much distance between themselves and the fight. I followed the crowd, looking back whenever I could to make sure that Spider-Man was alright. I saw him webbing up the gun men, and stopped walking before I made it to the other car. I turned to see the passengers, and they kept going forward, but I slowly broke from the crowd and headed back to where Spider-Man was. With my ears ringing, and my heart rate racing, I tried to stay focused on the red and blue figure who was tying up the gun men to the pole. I opened the doors, and he turned to look at the source of the noise.
“Peter?” I whispered.
He stopped what he was doing and breathed, “Y/N.” He ran up to me and hugged me tightly.
My eyes watered, and I closed them, letting out a shaky laugh, “Oh my god. Peter.” I wrapped my arms around him and tried to calm down.
“Are you okay? You’re shaking,” he said, pulling back. “That was a dumb question, of course you’re not okay, but you’re fine, right? They didn’t hurt you?”
“I’m, I’m okay. I think. Physically okay, at least,” I rambled nervously. “Can you just take me home, please?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he said guiding me out of the train. We left through the end of the train where Peter crashed in, and he helped me step over the glass, holding my hand to help keep me up. “Can you walk? I don’t think you should walk, here, hold on,” he said, picking me up bridal style instead.
I gasped in surprise, not used to the feeling of being carried in such an intimate way. Again, in any other circumstance, I would enjoy this -but I was still in shock. I heard police sirens in the distance and realized that it was all going to be okay. I was safe. Those children were safe. That old lady was safe. Peter was safe.
Peter continued to carry me until we made it out of the station, and I hid my face in his chest; I focused on his heart beat and tried to calm my own breathing to match his. The whole way, Peter whispered reassuringly to me, and it helped me feel better. He told me to hang on tight, so I wrapped my arms around his neck and held on tighter. Gasping slightly, I could feel that we were no longer on the ground. I could feel the wind whip around me; it almost felt like I was on a roller coaster with a lot of sudden drops. I closed my eyes, waiting for us to land on solid ground.
When we did, Peter said softly, “You can open your eyes now.”
I slowly did so and looked around to see where we were. I was definitely not at my house, but it was a nice view. “Where are we?” I asked. It looked like were on some rooftop that overlooked Queens.
“I know you wanted me to take you home, but, I thought we should talk a little before I take you back,” he said, adjusting his grip.
“You can put me down now,” I whispered, looking at the eyes of his mask.
He cleared his throat, “Are you sure? You okay to stand?”
“I think so,” I replied.
He let me down gently, and I swayed a bit to the side, my legs almost giving way.
“Whoah, okay there Bambi, let’s just have you take a seat over here okay?” he slightly chuckled, guiding me to a spot on the floor.
“That was my first time flying first class, so I’m a bit shaky,” I tried joking.
He let out a breathy laugh, but then got quiet. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m not holding anything up,” I said, taking his question literally so that I could avoid giving a serious answer. I looked up to him and saw that he wasn’t amused, so I sighed. “I thought being pointed at with a gun was scary enough, but then,” I paused, “then he just pressed it against me and I, I couldn’t move -I couldn’t breathe. He was going to shoot me. I know he was. I was about to die if you didn-”
“Hey, hey, hey,” Peter whispered, “you weren’t going to die, I wasn’t going to let that happen.”
“But, I was!” I exclaimed, my voice rising, “I was going to die, Peter! If you didn’t answer the phone I…” I looked away, no longer able to stare at his emotionless mask. As if he noticed this, he slipped it off.
“Y/N,” he said gently.
I kept looking ahead, clenching my jaw to keep my lips from trembling.
“Y/N, look at me,” he said. When I turned to look at him his eyes were hard but determined. He continued, “I wasn’t going to let you die; I wasn’t going to let him hurt you. I’ll never let that happen if I can help it.
I know it was scary, but you’re safe now; you’re alive.
What matters is that I answered and that I made it on time.”
I nodded my head, and let out a shaky laugh that turned into a cry, finally losing my demeanor. Peter immediately reacted by side-hugging me, rubbing his hand up and down my arm. I sniffled and let a few tears fall, and Peter just held me, whispering sweet-nothings. He tucked my head under his chin and ran his fingers down my hair in a comforting manner.
After a few minutes, when I composed myself, I pulled away. “Thank you, Peter. I’ll never be able to repay you.”
“Yes you will,” he said, looking at me. I looked up at him and waited for him to continue. “Just stay alive, and out of harms way, okay?” he chuckled.
I smiled softly and said, “Okay.”
“And if not, I’ll come and save you anyway,” he said nonchalantly.
I slightly chuckled, but got quiet when I started to think.
Breaking the silence, Peter said, “You know, I heard you stand up for that lady on the train.”
“You heard that?” I asked.
“I didn’t hang up right away,” he shrugged. “By the way, I still have your phone. It’s in my backpack on the side of a dumpster though.”
I furrowed my brows in confusion. Noticing my expression he quickly added “Don’t worry, it’s not trash day today. Not making that mistake again,” mumbling the last part to himself.
I patted my pocket, and felt the outline of Peter’s phone. I pulled it out and handed it to him. “I’m sorry I saw your video, Peter. I didn’t mean to invade. I thought just one video wouldn’t hurt anyone.” I looked away ashamed.
Peter looked at his phone, and smiled, “I’m glad you saw it. If you didn’t find out, then I wouldn’t have gotten to those people on time -including you. Just, promise me you won’t tell anyone. No one else can find out and I don’t think you’re the type of person to go around-”
I cut him off, “I swear.” I smiled at him, glad he didn’t hate me. He gave me a soft smile, but then looked embarrassed at what he was going to say next.
“And if we’re going to be honest, I, uh, I looked at some of your photos,” he sheepishly admitted.
“What!” I squeaked, horrified.
Peter’s eyes widened at my outburst, “Y- you did it too!”
“No, no I didn’t! I just saw one video, I didn’t see anything else!” I defended myself.
“It was, it was just a selfie or two that I saw anyway. They were cute,” he mumbled, blushing. “And some pictures of your dog. Those were cute too.”
My ears got hot, and I could only imagine how red my face was. “Um, yeah, okay. Whatever,” I tried laughing it off. I tucked my hair behind my ear and looked away, hiding my smile.
He thinks I’m cute?
“You don’t have a weird voice by the way; I was just messing with you last night. I like your voice; it’s actually really nice,” I admitted, still not meeting his eyes.
Peter stuttered a bit and said, “Th-thanks.” Then he cleared his throat. “You have a really cute,” he paused, “smi…dog”
I looked at him and laughed, “What?”
“I,” he said, fumbling a bit, “Buddy. He’s really cute.”
“Thanks?” I replied, uncertain, giggling anyway. “Your film was really cute. I’d give it a solid three stars,” I teased, bumping his shoulder.
“Three stars?” he exclaimed, laughing back.
“The whole, ‘stealing Captain America’s shield’ was just unbelievable to me,” I joked.
Peter scoffed then chuckled, “Well, it totally happened. And it was bad-ass.”
I grinned and looked at Peter. He looked down at me and we sort of stared into each other’s eyes until he glanced down at my lips.
If I’m not wrong, I know what comes next.
His phone rang.
We both snapped out of it, and I looked away awkwardly.
“Uh, I should, I should probably take this,” he said, motioning to the phone. I merely nodded, and he stood up to go answer it and talk to whoever was on the other line.
I took a deep breath and bit my lip to keep from smiling so big.
Was he really about to kiss me? Does Peter Parker like me back?
“Aunt May was just checking in on me since she saw the train incident on the news,” he explained, walking back to me.
My eyes widened when I realized I didn’t call my dad. “Um, can I make a quick call? My dad’s gunna kill me,” I said, standing up.
Peter nodded, handing me the phone, and I quickly called my dad. I told him I missed the train and decided to come home when I heard what happened so he wouldn’t worry about me. Otherwise, he’d never let me leave the house. I’d probably be home-schooled. When I hung up, Peter had put his mask back on.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I smiled.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that,” I said, once Peter landed on the ground again -just a few houses down from mine.
I had my arms wrapped around his neck, basically hugging him instead of having him carry me this time. He slowly set me down, but neither of us completely let go of each other. It just looked like I was hugging Spider-Man in the middle of the street -just another typical Saturday afternoon. This was a quiet neighborhood though, so no one was around to see this.
“It sure beats traffic though,” he said.
I smiled and said, “Oh yeah, definitely.” I dropped my hands from his neck and let them sit on his chest instead.= while his rested on the small of my back. “You gotta tell me how this happened though.”
“I can explain everything to you later. I think I’m getting better at telling the story,” he chuckled.
“Who else knows?” I asked. “I figured I was the only one who uncovered your deep, dark secret.”
“Ned found out by accident first. Then my aunt May -that was also an accident.” he explained.
“I think there’s a pattern going on here,” I teased.
“Yeah, I gotta get better at hiding this,” he admitted. He finally made the first move to pull away, much to my dismay. He pulled out his phone from his belt and handed it to me. “Here.”
I just looked at it and then back to him, “What?”
“Hold onto it until I can give you your phone back,” he said, putting it in my hand, “that way I have a reason to come back to you.”
I tried to hide my smile, but horribly failed. “I can give you another reason,” I said confidently.
I reached up to pull his mask up slightly, but stopped half way. His hands met mine, and he asked, “Uh, what are you doi-”
But I cut him off by leaning up and gently pressing my lips against his. Peter was shocked at first, but then he responded. It was short, but it still felt amazing. After I pulled away, I could see that Peter was left a stumbling mess.
“Um, I, uh, that’s a really good reason to come back, like, really good,” he mumbled.
I blushed the whole time, but smiled anyway, “Yeah, I, uh, think it was really good too.” I started walking backwards, “I have to, um, go, over there.” I pointed to my house, clearing my throat.
Peter pulled down his mask and said, “And I have to go to, the um, dumpster. I need to get my stuff back.”
We both chuckled nervously and I called out, “Bye Spider-Man!”
He yelled back, “Goodbye citizen!” before swinging away.
After saying our goodbyes, we went our separate ways. Once I got to my front door, I bit my lip and smiled just reliving the moment. I walked to my room, greeting my dad in the process, and fell onto my bed. My hands went up to my lips and I sighed in content.