#Midtown Tech

[trapezequeen]

Every Shot of Michelle Jones (Part 2/♾️)

[lizzie-is-here]

girls just wanna have fun- series masterlist

summary: (y/n) (l/n). the closest thing midtown tech has to a queen bee. she’s pretty, popular, smart, and also happens to have the fattest fucking crush on peter benjamin parker.

relationships: mcu!nerd!peter parker x popular!reader

total wordcount: 30k

warnings: cussing, violence, drama, underage drinking, underage drug use (weed), mentions of underage sexual activity

disclaimer: this is not meant to idolize or glorify underage drinking, smoking, or sex. it just feels unrealistic (at least to me) to not include some of the dark/not-disney-friendly shit that happens in high school. teenagers can be batshit crazy. with that in mind, please stay safe!

this series is complete!

(pictures are not mine, but i did make the collage so that’s why it’s not the best lol)

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

part i- boss bitch

“first thing a girl did was a bop, i’m the whole damn cake and the cherry on top”

in which the avengers learn your name and you land an internship

part ii- mariposa

“i can’t wait for you to come my way”

in which your internship begins

part iii- paper planes

“i fly like paper get high like planes”

in which you teach peter how to party. he does okay.

part iv- sunflower

“you’re the sunflower, i think your love would be too much”

in which you and peter aren’t quite on the same page. but it’s the same idea, so does it kind of count?

part v- caught a vibe

“caught a vibe, baby, are you coming for the ride? i just wanna look into your eyes, i just wanna stay for the night”

in which you and peter attend homecoming. as friends. that last part’s very important.

part vi- walking on a dream

“we are always running for the thrill of it”

in which you and peter enjoy a carnival, and you have a profound realization

part vii- this is what falling in love feels like

“this is falling, falling in love”

in which you and peter finally confess

part viii- all for us

“guilty or innocent, my love is infinite”

in which there arises a problem that looks suspiciously like jake gyllenhaal

part ix- this side of paradise

“i’ll be yours if you’ll be mine”

in which you prove to be the baddest bitch

part x- girls just wanna have fun

“that’s all they really want”

in which it all goes to plan

[ctrsara]

Setting Things Straight

@irondadmadlads Irondad Prompt #31: Peter suddenly starts struggling in school. Tony isn’t sure what’s going on, until he learns Peter has a new teacher; one who’s seemingly out to get him.

Tony decides going straight to the source is the best way to handle it.

[appellatedefender]

Chapter 8 has been posted. Four teenagers investigate a murder. What could possibly go wrong?

Chapters: 8/10 Fandom: Daredevil (TV), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies) Series: Part 2 of Tyler's Story Summary: Peter, Ned, MJ, and Tyler carry out Tyler’s plan. Brett accuses Matt of planting evidence.

[99laundry]

greenday is about to play a surprise show in the subway and i dont even care enough to be there childhood me would be kicking my ass right now

[petergender]

I want marvel to know I will care about the kang storyline SOOOOOO fast if spiderman truly is the main player in the mutliversal saga. I will drop everything. I'll even watch she hulk.

[sayruq]

In midtown Manhattan on March 4, Google’s managing director for Israel, Barak Regev, was addressing a conference promoting the Israeli tech industry when a member of the audience stood up in protest. “I am a Google Cloud software engineer, and I refuse to build technology that powers genocide, apartheid, or surveillance,” shouted the protester, wearing an orange t-shirt emblazoned with a white Google logo. “No tech for apartheid!” The Google worker, a 23-year-old software engineer named Eddie Hatfield, was booed by the audience and quickly bundled out of the room, a video of the event shows. After a pause, Regev addressed the act of protest. “One of the privileges of working in a company which represents democratic values is giving space for different opinions,” he told the crowd. Three days later, Google fired Hatfield. Hatfield is part of a growing movement inside Google that is calling on the company to drop Project Nimbus, a $1.2 billion contract with Israel, jointly held with Amazon. The protest group, called No Tech for Apartheid, now has around 40 Google employees closely involved in organizing, according to members, who say there are hundreds more workers sympathetic to their goals.

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Random ITSV facts that only I care about probably

Some fun ITSV facts from your local half-hispanic half-black Brooklynite Spider-man fan (me not Miles). ANYWAY

Miles has the number 11215 on his bookbag. That's his zip code.

This means officially, Miles lives in Park Slope. On the edge of Williamsburg.

The movie is spot on with the architecture.

We get a shot of Miles house in ITSV that basically confirms he lives in Park Slope. Not only is the 'real' Visions Academy near Park Slope (the actual school is called Midtown High. His school is a blend of two specialized tech schools in NYC - Midtown and Brooklyn Tech, both of which are near Park Slope).

Miles is 'Slapping'.

Writing your graffiti tag on stickers and putting them around the city is a genuine form of graffiti in NYC called slapping.

It's done on 'eggshell' stickers which are basically impossible to get off, and the goal is to put as is stickers around with your name in the hardest to reach places. If you walk around Manhattan and look closely, you can start seeing sticker tags like this.

One of the most common ones I see is Peru Ana Ana Peru

Here's some of mine though 😌😉

Wythe Avenue is a real Avenue.

I spoke about this in the past but it's just another instance of ITSV and ATSV being SO accurate to Brooklyn that they even get the street names, locations, and stores correct.

The store that Spot robs is a REAL BODEGA.

Anyway these were just things I caught after rewatching the ITSV trailer and I thought they were cool 🥺 BYE

[mostlysignssomeportents]

2600’s amazing Hackers on Planet Earth con may go down under enshittification

Catch me in Miami! I'll be at Books and Books in Coral Gables on Jan 22 at 8PM.

It's been 40 years since Emmanuel Goldstein launched the seminal, essential, world-changing 2600: The Hacker Quarterly. 2600 wasn't the first phreak/hacker zine, but it was the most important, spawning a global subculture dedicated to the noble pursuit of technological self-determination:

https://www.2600.com/

2600 has published hundreds of issues in which digital spelunkers report eagerly on the things they've discovered by peering intently at the things no one was supposed to even glance at (I'm proud to be one of those writers!). They've fought legal battles, including one that almost went to the Supreme Court:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/DeCSS

They created a global network of meetups where some of technology's most durable friendships and important collaborations were born. These continue to this day:

https://www.2600.com/meetings

And they've hosted a weekly radio show on NYC's WBAI, Off the Hook:

https://wbai.org/program.php?program=76

When WBAI management lost their minds and locked the station's most beloved hosts out of the studio, Off the Hook (naturally) led the rebellion, taking back the station for its audience, rescuing it from a managerial coup:

https://twitter.com/2600/status/1181423565389942786

But best of all, 2600 gave us HOPE – both in the metaphorical sense of "hope for a better technological tomorrow" and in the literal sense, with its biannual Hackers On Planet Earth con:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hackers_on_Planet_Earth

For decades HOPE had an incredible venue, the Hotel Pennsylvania (memorialized in the phreak anthem "PEnnsylvania 6-5000"), a crumbling pile in midtown Manhattan that was biannually transformed into a rollicking, multi-day festival of forbidden technology, improbable feats, and incredible presentations. I was privileged to keynote HOPE in 2016:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f1D7APjmVbk

But after the 2018 HOPE, the Hotel Pennsylvania was demolished to make way for the Penn15 (no, really) skyscraper, a vaporware mega-tower planned as a holding pen for luxury shopping and empty million-dollar condos sold to offshore war-criminals as safe-deposit boxes in the sky. The developer, Vornado (no, really) hasn't actually done all that – after demo'ing the Hotel Pennsylvania, they noped out, leave a large, unusable scar across midtown.

But HOPE wasn't lost. In 2022, the ever-resilient 2600 crew relocated to Queens, hosted by St John's University – a venue that was less glamorous that the Hotel Pennsylvania, but the event was still fantastic. Attendance fell from 2,000 to 1,000, but that was something they could work with, and reviews from attendees were stellar.

Good thing, too. 2600 is, first and foremost, a magazine publisher, and these have been hard years for magazines. First there was the mass die-off of indie bookstores and newsracks (I used to sell 2600 when I was a bookseller, and in the years after, I always took the presence of 2600 on a store's newsrack as an unimpeachable mark of quality).

Thankfully for 2600, their audience is (unsurprisingly) a tech-savvy one, so they were able to substitute digital subscriptions for physical ones:

https://www.2600.com/Magazine/DigitalEditions

Of course, many of those subscriptions came through Amazon's Kindle, because nerds were early Amazon adopters, and because the Kindle magazine publishing platform offered DRM-free distribution to subscribers along with a fair payout to publishers.

But then Amazon enshittified its magazine system. Having locked publishers to its platform, it rugged them and killed the monthly subscription fees that allowed publishers to plan for a steady output. Publishers were given a choice: leave Amazon (and all the readers locked inside its walled garden) or put your magazine into the Kindle Unlimited system:

https://www.amazon.com/kindle-dbs/arp/B0BWPTCP4K?deviceType=A1FG5NAKX0MRJL

Kindle Unlimited is an all-you-can-eat program for Kindle, which pays publishers and writers based on a system that is both opaque and easily gamed, with the lion's share of the money going to "publishers" who focus on figuring out how to cheat the algorithm. Revenues for 2600 – and all the other magazines that Amazon had sucked in and sucked dry – fell off a cliff.

Which brings me to the present moment. After 40 years, 2600 is still at it, having survived the bookstorepocalypse, the lunacy of public radio management, the literal demolition of their physical home by an evil real-estate developer, and Amazon's crooked accounting.

This is 2600, circa 2024, and 2024 a HOPE year:

https://www.hope.net/

Once again, HOPE has been scheduled for its new digs in Queens, July 12-14. Last week, HOPE sent out an email blast to their subscribers telling them the news. They expected to sell 500 tickets in the first 24 hours. They didn't even come close:

https://www.2600.com/content/hope-ticket-sales-update

It turns out that Google and the other major mail providers don't like emails with the word "hacker" in them. The cartel that decides which email gets delivered, and which messages go to spam, or get blocked altogether, mass-blocked the HOPE 2024 announcement. Email may be the last federated, open platform we have, but mass concentration has created a system where it's nearly impossible to get your email delivered unless you're willing to play by Gmail's rules:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/10/10/dead-letters/

For Emmanuel Goldstein, founder of 2600 and tireless toiler for this community, the deafening silence following from that initial email volley was terrifying: "like some kind of a "Twilight Zone" episode where everyone has disappeared."

The enshittification that keeps 2600's emails from being delivered to the people who asked to receive them is even worse on social media. Social media companies routinely defraud their users by letting them subscribe to feeds, then turning around to the people and organizations that run those feeds and saying, "You've got x thousand subscribers on this platform, but we won't put your posts in their feeds unless you pay us to 'boost' your content":

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2023/04/platforms-decay-lets-put-users-first

Enshittification has been coming at 2600 for decades. Like other forms of oddball media dedicated to challenging corporate power and government oppression, 2600 has always been a ten-years-ahead preview of the way the noose was gonna tighten on all of us. And now, they're on the ropes. HOPE can't sell tickets unless people know about HOPE, and neither email providers nor social media platforms have any interest in making that happen.

A handful of giant corporations now get to decide what we read, who we hear from, and whether and how we can get together in person to make friends, forge community, rabble-rouse and change the world. The idea that "it's not censorship unless the government does it" has always been wrong (not all censorship violates the First Amendment, and censorship can be real without being unconstitutional):

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/04/yes-its-censorship/

What can you do about it? Well, for one thing, you can sign up for HOPE. It's gonna be great. They've got sub-$100 hotel rooms! In New York City!

https://store.2600.com/products/tickets-to-hope-xv

If you can't make it to HOPE, you can sign up for a virtual membership:

https://store.2600.com/products/tickets-to-hope-xv-virtual-attendee

You can submit a talk to HOPE:

https://www.hope.net/cfp.html

You can subscribe to 2600, in print or electronically (I signed up for the lifetime print subscription and it was a bargain – I devour every issue the day it arrives):

https://store.2600.com/collections/subscriptions-renewals

2600 is living a decade in the future of every other community you care about, weird hobby you enjoy, con you live for, and publication you read from cover to cover. If we can all pull together to save it, it'll be a beacon of hope (and HOPE).

I'm Kickstarting the audiobook for The Bezzle, the sequel to Red Team Blues, narrated by @wilwheaton! You can pre-order the audiobook and ebook, DRM free, as well as the hardcover, signed or unsigned. There's also bundles with Red Team Blues in ebook, audio or paperback.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/19/hope-less/#hack-the-planet

[idk-bruh-20]

Irondad fic ideas #102

When Flash first overhears Peter talking about the "Stark Internship," he rolls his eyes and thinks, "Of course he'd go with that excuse at Midtown School of Science and Technology."

Whatever. Flash knows the truth. He's seen the car that Parker gets picked up in, seen the body guard / chauffeur and the absolutely insane amount of discrete safety tech he always has on. Flash is convinced that the whole orphan thing is just a cover story and Peter secretly has parents at least as rich and influential as Flash's own.

Maybe they're politicians or the mob or something, and that's why all the secrecy. Honestly, Flash is doing him a favor by bullying him all the time for being an unimportant orphan. It's the perfect cover. Maybe he'll even drop the ridiculous Stark Industries lie and come up with a more believable backstory soon.

Then, one day Flash and Peter end up in a kidnapping situation.

The kidnappers take Flash's watch, but they leave some of Peter's tech since it's better hidden. As soon as they're alone, Flash expects Peter to hit that panic button and get them the hell out of there.

Only... he doesn't? Did Peter learn nothing from K&R training? Flash reaches over and hits the secret panic button 3 times immediately, no hesitation. Peter is shocked. Flash is like, "Oh come on, I obviously know your secret."

He's kind of curious and excited now to see who Peter's secret parents are, once the cops get them out of there.

He is not at all prepared when Iron Man bursts through the door.

He's even less prepared when Tony Stark steps out of the suit and totally freaks out at Peter, hugging him and checking for injuries.

... maybe he's finally met Peter's secret parent after all.

[swap-tech-enterprise]

Public Relations Internship Part A, Customer Swap Stories #2

My name is Michael and I am currently a junior public relations major at Penn State.

When the university announced they partnered with Swap Tech Enterprise (STE) and launched the “Semester in Their Shoes” program, I knew that I wanted to take advantage of the opportunity. I would spend the semester in the body of a recent graduate working full time in the public relations field letting me see the day to day life of someone who works in public relations looked like. While participating in the program, the work assigned to you would equate to some of the classes I should be taking but can’t while part of the program, so not only was I gaining real world experience in the field, but I also wouldn’t be missing any credits and would still get to graduate on time. As for the person I would be swapping with, they would get to spend a couple of months living my life and having a break for all the work they had to do. 

Once applications for the program opened I immediately applied in hopes to spend my spring semester working in Public Relations. After months of waiting to hear back, I finally received the email informing me that I was accepted and matched with someone for the swap. I was so excited I could barely contain my excitement in the days leading up to the swap. Finally, the day arrived and I headed down to the STE Swap Bank as instructed. I informed them that I was participating in the program through my school and they quickly gave me a run down of who I would be swapping with other information that I would need to know before the swap. After receiving all the information, the Swap Technician took me to the swap room and began prepping me for the swap. As they counted down, I was so excited that I didn’t even realize I lost consciousness once the Swap Tech’s countdown hit 0. As I opened my eyes, I noticed I was in a different room and knew the swap had worked. However, as I stood up from the bed, something was wrong. Looking down at my hands I noticed they were showing signs of aging, which shouldn’t be the case since I was supposed to be swapping with a recent graduate. I brought my hands to my chest and noticed that I was showing signs of aging as well as my body looked like it hadn’t stepped foot in a gym in years. I quickly ran to the mirror and was shocked by the face looking back at me. It wasn’t the face of a 24 year old recent graduate but that of what I could assume was a 50-55 year old man. 

Turns out that Chris, the manager of the public relations team I was joining couldn’t secure any volunteers for the swap, so he elected to step up instead. I started demanding that they swap me back now, but per the terms of the contract I signed when applying for the program, it stated that if no recent grad volunteers could be available, the head of the team could step up in their place. Upset with the circumstances, I reluctantly got dressed and headed to Chris’s apartment in Midtown, as I was now going to be living at his place in New York until the end of the spring semester in May.  I quickly took a picture and sent it to my parents, as they wanted to be updated once I was settled in.

To say my parents were shocked was an understatement, but they also knew the terms I agreed too when applying for the program and told to stick it out as May would come soon enough and I could get back to my body. They also told me they’d keep a close eye on Chris in my body to make sure he didn’t do anything I would regret after the swap so that calmed my nerves a bit. Figuring I had nothing better to do, I prepped for my first day on the job tomorrow. What should be an exciting time in my life has now been ruined and all I can do now is finish what I signed up for. God, May can’t come quick enough! 

[trapezequeen]

Every Shot of Michelle Jones (Part 3/♾️)

[kyber-kisses]

The Red String

Miguel Ohara x Spider!reader

Summary: Legend has it, there is an invisible red thread that connects us to those we are destined to meet. Regardless of time, place, or circumstances. It may stretch and tangle but never break.

Warnings: slight ATSV spoilers, cursing, canon typical violence.

A/N: HI FELLOW SIMPS! Please enjoy this mediocre fic that I wrote because I’m in love with Miguel.

A freak.

That’s what you felt like.

But surprising enough it wasn’t due to the enhanced spider abilities like crawling up the walls and sensing a flying projectile from a mile away.

No. No, it was the issue with your fucking soul string.

Letting out a deep sigh, you swung your legs over the side of the fire escape, pulling off your glove as you examined your hand. . . Or more accurately; your pinkie finger.

The thin faded string tied around your small finger was nothing but a hinderance to you at this point. When your mind was supposed to be on New York and keeping the streets safe it was instead occupied with thoughts about the stupid little string.

Everyone had one. Hell, everyone was born with one. A soul string. Only you and one other person can see your string. To everyone else it’s invisible. Like a sort of ghost others can walk through and not even notice.

The other end of it was tied to your soulmate.

Most people go out and find theirs between the time they’re twenty and thirty, others just wait for the moment to come naturally. But in the end it was a universal fact: everyone had a soulmate.

Except for you apparently.

It was either that or they had died at some point. Either way, the end of your string didn’t go anywhere. It was a faded red and only stretched a few feet in front of you before fading into nothing. It went no where.

And that’s why you were thankful only you could see your string because of others knew. . . Oh boy would you be an outcast.

Then again, you already felt like one.

“Stupid fucking thing-“ you hissed, scraping your finger along where the string was tied in a futile attempt to get it off. But like always. . . It didn’t work. Your finger phased through it as if it were nothing more than a figment of your imagination. In other words: it wasn’t on the physical plane of existence.

You don’t know why you let it bother you so much, like hell- you were a fucking web slinging superhero, what more did you need?

As of being able to tell you were caving in on yourself, the police radio next to you crackled to life.

“Yeah, we got some sort of hi-tech robotic octopus dude climbing up the side of the bank on east 48th, we need back up over here—“

A groan of annoyance left your lips as you swung your legs back onto the fire escape, pulling your mask back on before tossing the radio into your bag.

It was always fucking something.

Why didn’t the universe ever allow you just fives minutes of peace? Sometimes all you wanted was to wallow in self pity but no. New York had to keep pumping out new villains by the handful.

But at least the journey from Greenpoint to Midtown was quick. All you had to do was go down Huron Street, leap across a few moving ferries before swinging through the midtown tunnel. Practically a walk in the park.

At least it was until you got to your destination.

Despite the obnoxious amount of light pollution that New York gave off, the explosions were easy to see and so was the weird fucking guys scaling the side of the bank with. . . What were those? Tentacles.

Coming to a stop on a roof a block or so down, you observed the scene quickly, finding potential ways to bring the guy down along with potential exit strategies of things went side ways.

It was only when you were readying yourself to dive off the side of the building and begin your attack did all your movements falter. Skidding across the gravel rooftop, you stopped at the ledge, watching with wide eyes as some other. . . person grappled with the guy you were gunning for.

A person. . . Who seems to have similar abilities to you?

Beneath your mask your eyebrows knitted together in confusion as you watched the figure swing around them, dodging blows as swiftly and quickly as you did.

At the same time the faded red string around your finger faltered. The band glitching into a violent pixelated mess before resorting to its regular bland old self once more.

You really couldn’t catch a break couldn’t you?

With an annoyed shake of your head you focused your attention back to the other spider person and the tentacle guy on the wall.

You had to get closer, maybe then you could get a better look. Plus. . . Whoever they were might need help, and who were you if not someone always there to lend a helping hand.

In the end you did end up getting a better look because the second you got close you watched as the new spider person was slammed into the side of the building, one of the mechanic arms of the enemy latched tightly around them.

Your body was moving before your brain was and a second later you where sailing through the air like a dart, your foot slamming into the jaw of the criminal.

The movement was enough to shake him and with that the cows released the person in its grasp. A mask similar to your own stared back at you, it’s eyes wide as the person beneath look at you.

“What? The least I could get is a thank you.” You speak plainly, ducking a swing from the man behind you.

“Oh uh yeah, thanks.”

Trying to multitask between taking down the guy behind you and conversing with the vigilante in front of you, you paused before bringing your foot in a swift sailing arc towards your assailant, once again knocking them down a few pegs.

“You wanna tell me whit his guy is?”

“You don’t have a Doc Ock here?”

You duck another mechanic arm, moving quickly to web it firmly to the side of the building you were currently grappling on. “What do you mean here?”

“You know, this reality?”

You paused in your movements, titling your head. “What did you smoke?”

Though you couldn’t see it, you could sense the way they rolled their eyes under their mask. “Ok enough of this, just help me take down this guy and I’ll explain everything.”

There was silence for a moment as you thought it over before quickly nodding, and with that the two of you sprung into action.

In less than two minutes the attacker was down, bound firmly in webbing on the sidewalk of the bank.

“I’ve never seen this guy before. And you sounded surprised when I said that.” You folded your arms, looking down at the unconscious villian in front of you.

“I mean, most spidermen have some variant of him in their reality.” The guy next to you shrugged.

“Their reality?” Turning your head you looked at the person next to you and the blue and red spandex suit that cling to their body.

“Yeah, you know- the multiverse?”

“Bullshit. That ain’t real.”

“Oh trust me, it is.”

You raised an eyebrow underneath your mask. “Why should I trust you? I don’t even know your name.”

“You’re kidding right?”

“Does it sound like I’m kidding?”

The so called spider-man inc don’t if you sighed, hand going to his hips. “My names Peter B. Parker. I’m from a different reality. Earth 616-B to be exact.”

Despite how ridiculous he sounded your senses were telling you everything he said was true. “How did you get here?”

“A gizmo.”

“Ok now I have to call bullshit. You have something called a fucking gizmo that got you here? That sounds like something a kid would call their toy.”

At that Peter laughs. “Oh ho! That’s good, wait till I tell Miguel that someone called his devices a child’s toy. Oh I’m gonna have to record that—“

“Miguel?”

“He’s the boss man, the one who sent me here to grab that guy.” Peter points down at the unconscious Doc Ock on the ground.

“Why?”

“You ask a lot of questions.”

“Well you give me a reason to ask a lot of questions.”

There’s a pause and you can only assume that beneath his mask he mouth his hanging slightly open as he thinks. “I. . . Ok fair enough. I’ll give you that. Long story short, this guy isn’t from your reality which means that if I don’t get him back to his your whole world could start to disintegrate. We call guys like this anomalies.”

It’s your turn to be quiet, your eyes wide as you listen to him. “oH. Ok then. Yeah please get this guy out of here then.” Nodding quickly, you stepped back. “I’d rather not have my world disintegrate.”

“I’m completely agree.” Peter nodded, moving to punch a code into the device on his wrist. . . Or gizmo as he called it. You nearly jumped out of your suit a moment later when a multi colored portal whizzed open behind him, brining with it a dull sort of hum that made your spider senses stand on end. “Now if you’ll excuse me I need to get this guy back to HQ for processing before sending him home.”

You could only nod silently as your eyes stayed glued to the portal, mouth hanging slightly ajar in pure wonder. “Uh yeah- yeah.”

With a swift throw, Peter launched the unconscious Doc Ock through the portal. “It was nice meeting you fellow spider. . . ling?” He nodded as he stepped into the portal himself. “Maybe I’ll see you around again at some point.”

And with that he was gone.

And you should have left it at that. You should have just watched the portal close, turn on your heel and headed home. . . Or maybe a bar. Either or sounded like a good idea.

But you did neither.

Because hair as you were readying yourself to leave the tiny red string around your finger glitched again, the fading red line pointing in the direction of the closing portal.

You were moving before your brain was, the portal closing shut behind you, drowning you in darkness.

[charliejaneanders]

One of the very recent changes has been that the übergeek libertarian culture I wrote about has been mated with MBA culture, which brings its own prejudices and religious beliefs to the party. That's an interesting melding: the masters-of-the-universe MBA culture colliding with awkward geek, "I don't have the world's best social skills" culture. But they love each other's rhetoric and ideology and there's a strange sort of symbiosis going on. Geeks and MBAs intrigue each other for complementary reasons: MBAs like being associated with the geek shibboleths of inventiveness and revolution; Geeks are attracted to the MBAs' promise of making things real through the glamour of money. And both of them like money because it's something that can be counted. So now, when we talk about high-tech culture, a lot of what we're talking about is really business-speculation culture, and a transplanted Midtown Manhattan advertising culture, or Wall Street financial culture. So, though we may use the words "high tech" these days to refer to this group, they're not all the same kind of person -- but they are finding lots of common ground.

This interview from 2000 feels incredibly prescient and relevant to tech culture now

[miela]

Shattered Memories • Chapter I: The Expo & The Files • {Peter Parker x Stark!Reader}

Chapter Genre: Angst Chapter Warnings: Flashback Death (writing it hurt me lmao), Mentions of substance abuse and alcholism. Masterlist

↪ divider by firefly-graphics

DIARY / Dream Log #3 / 10 NOV 2024

Dear Diary,

 I dreamt of him again last night…the faceless boy

For the past few nights I've been dreaming of this boy. I didn't remember the dreams but I remember him. I can't remember what he looked like. It's like I remember the essence of him. Like he existed but he's nowhere to be found.

Only this time I remembered.

We were at the studio on a rainy day. I was wearing a long sleeve fitted crop top and matching leggings with my ballet shoes on.The pink of my slippers were a stark contrast against the black of my outfit. He was wearing a black fitted muscle shirt with black leggings under a pair of loose fitting Midtown Tech PE shorts. He was wearing a pair of star wars socks, which I found quite adorable. We were dancing playfully around the studio as we laughed at ourselves for not dancing so seriously but instead sliding across the floor and twirling each other as if we were ipart of a dance number in a musical

I wish I could remember his face.

I remember loving his smile. It's such a pretty smile, that much I know…but I don't remember what it looks like. I just know it brought me comfort and joy. His hair is soft and curly. He has such lovely hair. It feels soft and silky in my hands as I ran my hand through them a few times just to feel them. His eyes are puppy-like but I don't know what color they are. I just…know how they are.

It's strange to dream of someone and have no idea what they look like, but knowing little details that explains what they look like. It’s like running to a destination and then having no idea where you’re going. 

He likes to kiss my cheek and his lips feel velvety on my skin. He calls me different pet names too. 

"Baby, you’re going to hurt yourself."

"My little Lovebug." 

"Are you hungry, Darling?" 

"Princess, you’re doing great!" 

"There’s my Pretty Girl~"

His voice is soft, just like everything about him. (Well…minus his arms and chest and abs…) but his voice is like music to my ears. I would respond with my own pet names for him.

“Don’t worry, My Love, I’ve been doing this my whole life.”

“My Sweet Boy~”

“No, I’m okay, Baby.”

“It’s like you’re my own Disney Prince.”

“And there’s my Handsome Boy~”

We danced around the studio for about an hour until we laid on the floor facing each other tiredly. His fingers traced over my hips and waist several times causing my skin to react to his touch. I scoot closer to him until our faces are centimeters apart. I could hear his heartbeat and I’m pretty sure he could hear mine. We have a special connection that is different from most. It was a biological connection that I couldn’t place. 

I wish he was real. Then maybe I wouldn't feel so fucking lonely.

I leaned in to kiss him before something happened. He glitched. He glitched and my head felt like it was splitting in half with a migraine so painful that I woke up dizzy, shaking and sweating. 

How strange…and terrifying. 

[END NOTE]

The night was in good weather and the streets of New York City were bustling and busy, as per usual. Life was moving on as usual. The sun and moon cycled as usual.

The year is 2030.  

Five years had gone by after the incident at the Statue of Liberty. Five years since you were forced to forget him along with the rest of the world. 

No one knew who Peter Parker was. Not a single soul. To anyone that would be a terrifying thought, but it was something Peter himself had to accept.

He was swinging across buildings in the city one night, as usual. He was on his nightly patrol doing the same thing he's always done—protect the little guy. He figured it would be a somewhat busy night considering today was a special day so, he would probably have to protect some of the…not so little guys as well. He only stopped when he saw one of the big screens in Time Square and decided that this was a good spot to watch from. 

It was showing the Stark Expo. 

It had been awhile since he'd been excited about the beloved and annually anticipated event. Before, it hurt too much to bear with everything that happened but he was particularly intrigued with this one this year because this is when you made your official debut as the new owner of Stark Industries, and he knew you always wanted to make a big entrance. Much like your father, Tony Stark.

Only you wanted to do it bigger. Better.

Peter remembered different ideas you came up with for when the tech company torch was passed down to you. You said no to fireworks because the constant loud noises bother you and it was disrespectful to veterans, animals and those who are like you and sensitive to sound, even more so as a mutant human with super hearing.Other ideas you thought of were outlandish like setting something on fire or blowing something up (which Peter reminded you, contradicted your statement about the fireworks) and some were outrageous like blasting out of a giant cake. Eventually you came up with a solid plan that seemed to have fit your personality and mission as the legacy. You had it all planned out in a digital notebook with blueprints, lists, distributors, catering options and many more categories. Peter loved to watch you while you were fixated on something. It showed how much passion you had. He wondered how you felt leading up to the event. 

He wished he could have been there. 

There was a countdown on the screen for when the Expo was going to begin. Peter's friends invited him to go with them to see the Expo but he decided against it and used the excuse of having a lot of work; for school, for home and his job. Really he just couldn't handle the crowd right now he didn’t think he would be able to handle being so close to and yet so far from you. 

Also he's Spiderman. He's got his hero duties to do. 

With school, work, trying to function as an adult and being Spiderman, he was a busy guy, and that was the only thing that kept him distracted from thinking about his friends, his family, Mr. Stark, you…

Especially you. 

There were times when he looked at the necklace you gave back to him and remembered what you had said to him. 

"Give this back to me, I'll remember you."

But he knew it wouldn't be that simple. 

Five years ago, he had full intentions of calling you at seven like he promised but...he didn’t. He went to your window later that night instead. You were sitting on your bed sadly looking at a picture of you and your dad. It had been a year since you both lost Tony but it was taking you a longer time to move on for obvious reasons. He was your actual father and you knew him much longer. Tony was like a father figure to Peter, but he's been to this rodeo four times already. 

This was the first time you lost someone so close to you in such a way. 

Peter recalled that day. He remembered how you were.

Pepper had her arm around a crying Peter’s shoulders. Rhodey had given you a sad and apologetic look as you went over to Tony. You kneeled down by him.

"Dad, we did it." You said going up to him, your voice shaking as you put your hands on his shoulders. "Pops, we won. You did it. You…you…"

You paused when you saw the state of him. Half of his body was fried from using the infinity stones and he was taking his last breaths. Peter put his hand on your shoulder and you glanced at him with a fearful and hopeful look in your eyes. He pressed his lips together in a thin line giving you an apologetic and pained look. He had that same look you had in his eyes a moment ago. 

“No,” you shook your head and looked back at Tony. “Dad, please. We….we….we won.”

Tony looked at you one last time and weakly pointed to his heart before pointing to yours. You understood what he meant by it and you sighed deeply, nodding before he forced a small smile on his face that was barely there and took his final breath.

Your lip quivered and you leaned your forehead on his. “I love you, Daddy. I love you so much.”

Then the arc reactor light on his chest went out. 

Peter sat next to you after a moment and you instantly wrapped your arms around him in a tight hug and you hugged him back both of you crying your eyes out and attempting to comfort each other. Peter had to carry you back and he didn’t put you down until you had cried yourself to sleep on his shoulder.

Remembering that moment and then remembering how you were afterwards, it dawned on him how things played out. Peter was your rock, and you were his, but he had already made his decision. 

Your name was called and you perked up before quickly wiping your eyes and softly calling “Coming!”

You put down the photo on your end table and then walked out of your room. Once it was safe to do so, Peter climbed into your window and gathered any trace of his existence and put it in a box and left with it.

 Would he regret this? He had no idea.

He had run into once or twice or three times after that but as Spiderman and when he was saving your life from any danger. Nothing too eventful.

And that is how he ended up here five years later with a new life so different from yours.

The countdown made it to the 10 second mark and Peter was knocked out of his thoughts to pay attention to the screen. Once the mark hit zero the intro began.

Instantly he recognized the song. Back in Black by AC/DC. 

Different forms of tech and inventions were brought onto the stage in an almost cinematic way. Lights flashed, sparks flew, and the crowd went wild. Fireworks went off in the sky to Peter’s surprise but he was even more surprised when they made no sound. He concluded that you somehow made soundless fireworks. He wondered when and how you came up with that one. 

Once the platforms finished forming on the stage he spotted something flying in the sky. He didn’t sense danger from it but it was headed towards the expo. 

“Hey Karen, zoom in on that thing in the sky.”

“Okay, Peter.” and with that the lens of his mask zoomed in on the flying object. It was red and gold and mechanical…

Wait, could it be…?

“It appears to be an Ironman suit.” Karen stated.

“Who is it…?” Peter wondered.

“Activating X-Ray Scan Function.”

“Wait a minute…!” Peter panicked. “What if they’re naked…!”

“Be serious, Spiderman.” Karen retorted while deactivating the x-ray scan. 

Peter was taken aback by his AI. “Wow, Karen, I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“All Stark Industries AI have been updated with a Bestie Feature created by (Y/N) Stark.”

Peter smirked to himself. “Classic (Y/N/N).”

You landed on a mid-rise platform on the stage as it lowered to the regular height. The crowd was cheering loudly as you stepped out of the iron suit and Peter was taken aback.

You looked amazing. 

You wore an oversized blazer with a black dress underneath and knee high combat boots. Your lips were painted a bright red color and your nails were a teal blue that Peter recognized you always wearing.  Under the dazzling lights of the Expo. You looked happy, healthy and lovely as ever.

Just how Peter hoped for you. 

You danced your way across the stage before you stood poised at the podium, your confidence radiating, much like how Tony was. The audience hushed, anticipation hanging in the air as they waited to hear from the new owner of Stark Industries, Tony Stark's eldest daughter, (Y/N) Stark.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, esteemed guests and partners," you began, your voice steady yet carrying an echo of nervousness that Peter recognized all too well that others wouldn’t. “How are we all doing tonight?!”

The crowd went wild and you grinned in response.

"Good glad to hear it because today marks a significant milestone – not just for Stark Industries, but for a legacy that my father, Tony Stark, entrusted me to carry forward."

The crowd erupted in applause, the memory of Tony Stark's genius and charisma still fresh in their minds, even five years after his passing. Your presence on that stage, the spitting image of confidence of your father with a twist of your own determination, stirred a mix of nostalgia and curiosity in everyone. Even people on the street stopped and watched curiously and anxiously. Once the crowd calmed down, you continued on with your speech. Peter sat on top of the tall building that was right across from the screen that he was watching. You looked a little different but you were still as beautiful as he could remember. 

“Tony Stark was many things; a visionary, a genius, a multi-billionaire, a philanthropist, an American patriot, a playboy, a raging smart ass…”

The crowd laughed, and you continued.

“But to me, he was my number one supporter, my greatest mentor, my biggest inspiration and my best friend."

You looked back at the Ironman Suit that you arrived in longingly for a moment before turning back to the crowd. 

“When I was nine years old, my dad was taken by terrorists. He told me those three months were a huge awakening for him and changed the trajectory of his life. Through those dark times he went in a man, and came out a hero. A year later, he had learned that he had made enemies and then one day, our home in Malibu was blown to pieces. Each and every attempt to knock him down only made him come back stronger and stronger...and each time he became more and more my hero.”

Peter agreed with you from his sitting place in the building and the crowd cheered once again.

“Obviously, I began to notice at a young age what was happening. I did inherit his genius after all. And I began to ask questions, lots of questions.”

“One day he pulled me off to the side and He told me, ’(Y/N/N), one day this company will be yours and I want this to be a learning lesson for you. I want you to learn from my mistakes, instead of your own. I want you to grow to be a better person than I am’... I still hold those words close to me and I wonder how I can even be half of the genius and a fraction of the hero that he was...and still is to many people? I don't think I ever could. But because he believed in me so deeply, I will be. Even though he is gone from this world, he's still in my heart, guiding me.”

"Change is inevitable, and with change comes the opportunity to create a brighter future,” you continued, your eyes alight with determination but Peter could tell that you did it to hide the pain. "My father once said that his suit was a cocoon, and he emerged as Iron Man. Stark Industries is my cocoon, and I am committed to guiding it toward new heights of innovation and impact.”

“I remember his speech here at the expo, after he revealed himself as the iron hero and how he said ‘it's not about us, it's about legacy’. I stand before you as a testament to my father's belief in progress, innovation, and the power of human potential," you stated. "Tony Stark was more than a genius inventor; he was a visionary who saw challenges as opportunities, who dared to dream the impossible and then turn those dreams into reality."

The holographic screens around the stage displayed images of Tony Stark's greatest creations: the Iron Man suits, the Arc Reactor, the revolutionary technologies that had changed the world and his one of his greatest creations stands in the middle of all of it. 

You. 

“So I will go on with this genius mind and this heart made of gold and iron that I inherited from one of the greatest people I have ever known and be the heir of legacy that he believed me to be.” 

Peter looked at the screen, his heart swelling at your words and the emotion and passion in your voice. He could only imagine how this was for you.

"As the new owner of Stark Industries, I take this responsibility seriously," you asserted. "My father's legacy was not just about technology; it was about making a difference. And that is what Stark Industries will continue to do under my guidance, because with great power comes great responsibility."

Peter could have swore that his heart exploded. That was what his Aunt May had told him right before she died. He wondered where you heard it from. “Now, just because I came down in the suit, doesn’t mean I’m trying to be the new Iron Man. Oh no, I’m trying to be a different kind of hero…but I will work hard to find someone who will be suitable to wear it.” You stated and the crowd seemed to look at you understanding. 

After that, you spoke of a renewed commitment to clean energy, sustainable technologies, and global initiatives aimed at improving lives.The audience was captivated, witnessing the torch being passed from one generation to another, seamlessly transitioning from Tony's leadership to your vision. Peter was also captivated by the strong and determined person you have grown to be. 

Maybe it was better this way. Maybe it was better that he was out of your memories and your life.

“Now a few words from the man who walked and the man who ran so that I could fly.” You smiled.

Your words resonated deeply with the audience as you concluded your speech. The applause that followed was thunderous, a testament to the faith they had in your ability to carry on your father's legacy. Peter couldn't be anymore proud of you than he already was.

He just wished he was by your side, supporting you.

As you stepped down from the podium, Peter couldn't help but feel the weight of the moment.

 The Stark Legacy was in your hands now, and you were ready to honor it and not by imitating your father, but by carving your own path while staying true to his spirit of innovation, determination, and a desire to make the world a better place. Just as you had told Peter once before.

Peter pressed his lips together under his mask as he watched you. He watched as you walked off stage as a video of Howard Stark began to play. He talked about the initial mission for Stark Industries. Then Tony’s video came on, and he spoke about legacy and the future. It sure seemed like the future of Stark Industries was bright with your mission to push it even further with technology for space exploration of the solar system, and making technology that can advance cybernetics and construction tools. 

Peter wished nothing for the best for you, but he couldn’t help but wish he could be by your side while doing all of it. Something told him to go to you and tell you everything but another part of him told him to do the opposite and stay as far away from you as possible, but he had decided a while ago that he would just let you have your own space to grow before he attempted to come back into your life…before he would return the necklace to you, but the more he thought about it the more he feared doing it. He had tried once  with Ned and MJ before they left for MIT, but he also chickened out. He couldn't even get close to Celina since she was training with Doctor Strange. He figured by now it would be a dead end anyways. 

So he promised to support you guys from a distance. A big one. 

The wail of sirens echoed down below fading in and out as they passed by and that was Peter’s signal to resume his duty as the beloved web slinging, wall crawling hero that he was meant to be. 

You had left the Expo early.

You left after you actually gave your speech. You had better things to do than to pretend that everything was okay. These five years were tough on you. You have lost so much and so many people and even five years later it deeply affects you. You were definitely better than you were years ago though. You pretty much flew off the handle and went off the deep end. You did some dumb shit and did some bad shit, took some dumb shit and took some bad shit and now you’re trying to forget all of the dumb shit and the bad shit. Lucky for you, you always kept a low profile. 

Everyone knew Tony Stark had a daughter but he kept you out of the public eye for good reason.

You preferred it that way anyways. It made life and school easier. You went as far as to take up the name (Y/N) Jarvis and take the bus home from school to keep your identity a secret. You were in no way ashamed to be a Stark, in fact, you were proud of it. You just didn’t want the unwanted attention that comes with being a famous person’s offspring. You could already hear the nepo baby accusations for everything (not that they were really wrong…).

So, when you went on a bender for a year, no one knew who you were. When you decided to take things to forget your pain, no one batted a pretty eye.

Except those who did know you of course. 

You’d rather not think about how you broke Pepper and Happy’s hearts seeing you like that. Or how selfish you had been. It wasn’t until you were at your worst one day, where you finally decided that you were gonna get your act together. It wasn’t easy…it was far from easy. You had spent the first half of the first year utterly depressed from the loss of your father and the next half was your party girl bender era, much too young from doing anything that you were doing. The year after that was recovery and the years after that was making amends with everything you made crash and burn. 

This year you worked. A lot. 

You spent most of your time in your lab at the avenger’s compound creating and inventing while also scolding DUM-E, the help robot your father created, for doing too much. Which is where you were right now instead of networking with people you really didn’t give a flying fuckaroo about at the expo.

You had more important matters to attend to. 

Usually you would be working on a new AI format (that wasn’t the debauchery that Ultron was..) or the car you were supposed to build with Tony before he passed, but with the world in near shambles all the time, you have a different project you were working on.

The NAI— New Avengers Initiative. 

After the fight with Thanos and the blip coming undone by the hands of your father’s sacrifice, shit went sideways in your eyes. You recalled how people reacted when the world went back to normal, you recalled Sam and Bucky going on missions to stop a literal child from causing a mass murder attempt on government officials, you recalled Sam becoming the new Captain America and his beautiful call out speech to those government officials, and you recalled the day five years ago at the statue of liberty.

 Sort of.

You had remembered a battle, you had remembered being there with Ned, Celina and MJ, but you honestly weren’t really sure why you were there and you didn’t understand why you were crying so hard. 

Come to think of it, why were you crying at all? 

You fought all types of enemies including the Big 3 (Aliens, Robots, and Wizards) as Sam likes to put it. You have fought terrorists, governments, hell you have fought in the civil war of the avengers, and yet you had the waterworks about a battle you couldn’t even remember. You blamed it on the realization that you would have to fight big battles without your biological family and chosen family the same way anymore, but…you felt like something else was missing, like a big part of you was carved out of your life. It was like there was this big hole in your chest and you tried to fill it with everything imaginable. You failed miserably.

It must be the dreams you were having. 

You kept dreaming about a boy, and everytime you dream about him you’re super happy. The happiest you have ever been. The only problem is you couldn’t remember who he was and why you kept dreaming about him. Since those dreams began you have been having terrible headaches and nothing has been really fixing them. Morgan would tease you in her oh-so-annoying-little-sibling-way and basically say that your brain is trying not to be stupid for once. 

God forbid she knew you were dreaming about a boy. You wouldn’t hear the end of it.

“FRIDAY,” You stated as you sat in your chair in thought. “Pull up all the files on the Avengers.”

“The remaining ones or All of them?” the voice asked.

“All,” you replied. “Minus me, I know me. Very well actually.”

“Pulling up Avenger’s database right now, miss.”

Holographic screens appear in front of you. “Spread them out. Circular please.”

The screens surround you as if they were a council meeting. You walked to each one studying them as you reminisced on your past relationship and current stance with each of them now. 

You heavily looked up to Natasha Romanoff and she was like a big sister to you.

Now she’s dead.

You deeply admired Wanda Maximoff, and even had a mini crush on her.

But she went rogue and is now nowhere to be found.

You adored Vision, since he was the personification of AI Jarvis.

But you don’t know what happened to him either.

You also admired Steve Rogers, and he was like a big brother to you. 

But he decided to go back to the past and live his own life. 

Thor was like your goofy uncle and you loved him like one.

But he has his own thing going on in New Asgard and with the Guardians of the Galaxy.

Doctor Bruce Banner you felt so much for. You honestly admired him too. You were one of the only people who didn’t fear him as the Hulk but rather felt pity for him.

You decided he needed to be left alone, even though he was better now.

Scott was cool. He was also like a cool uncle figure. 

But he has other matters to worry about. Including a family.

Same with Clint. You learned alot from him.

But he only came out of retirement by force. You didn’t wanna bother him. 

Doctor Stephen Strange you found amusing. 

But you currently hate magic, that’s more of Celina’s thing. Possibly Ned too apparently.

You look at each of them as if this is the only way you could send them off with good riddance…for some of them it was true. Some of them you expect to never see again. You long accepted that already and wished nothing but the best for the rest of them and you hoped they all could find peace as much as they could. You sighed and smiled as you looked over all of them, but your eyes landed on a screen that would change the trajectory of your life.

You let your eyes scan the face of a puppy-eyed figure with brown curls and boyish features. There was something vaguely familiar but so foreign about him. It bothered you. You read the name.

“Peter Parker…” His name tasted familiar on your tongue, like you had spoken it many times before.

Could it be…?

“FRIDAY,” you asked. “Give me all the information on Peter Parker that we have.”

“Certainly,” she responded and pulled up more screens. “Peter Parker. Age: 21. Would have been 26 but he was part of The Blip. Hair Color: Brown, Eye Color: Brown. Ethnicity: Some sort of European descent, seems to be English by the last name.”

“Okay, okay but like ...who is he in the Avengers?”

“He is Spiderman and he was taken under the wing of your father.”

Your face twisted in confusion. “Huh? How…?”

You knew Spiderman. You remember Spiderman as your partner on Missions. You two bonded over the fact that you both had Spider powers. You even built his and your suits and begged your father not to tell him that it was you for some odd reason…oh yeah you had a major crush on him. Your suits synced up to each other making you both the Iron Spider. 

Two Spider Mutants + Stark Tech = Iron Spider. 

As you scanned your neurons for memories, you tried to remember his face. Surely, you knew his face…but you couldn’t place it. Really, all this time you just thought Spiderman was Harley Keener, but now that you think about it…nothing in that thought process would make any sense. After all he’s from Tennessee and has been in the same room as Spiderman. You recall sleeping on the Quinjet with Spiderman with your head on his shoulder and his head on top of yours. You recall even fighting “against” him in the Avengers Civil War.

That’s a different story for a different day.

You went through a plethora of memories but you could never remember his face and it peeved you to no end. Did he just hide his identity from everyone? He was young and honestly you did the same thing for a while, so you don't really blame him. After you gave the heroic works, he continued being the friendly neighborhood spiderman, helping the little guy. But things weren’t adding up in your mind still. 

Especially if he knew your father on a close level to wear he took him under his iron wing. 

“Peter Parker,” you said softly again. “Who are you? How did you meet my father…? Are you the boy in my dreams…?”

“The Database says he was part of the Stark Internship. Which was a Pseudonym for his Avenger call.” FRIDAY responded. 

“Something isn’t adding up,…” you said, chewing your lip, vexed. “Why don’t I recognize him?”

“Would you like me to do a deeper search, miss?”

Invading his personal information? You thought. 

“How deep are we talking, Fri?” You squint your eyes at the picture of Peter Parker, as if you were addressing him. 

“I can go as far back as to the day he was born and as deep as to where he is right now.” 

You nearly fell out of your chair. “FRIDAY…!” 

“It’s the way I was built, miss. You can’t blame me.”

You snorted.

“FRIDAY, that is stalker behavior,” You respond, thinking no more than ten seconds on the idea. After all, if you knew each other personally I’m sure he told you most of this stuff already. 

And if he’s the boy from your dreams…

“Do it.”

And this is how everything changed.

~

[dvrk-moon]

SPIDER-FIEND - chapter i

— synopsis: spider-man spilling coffee on you wasn’t on your 2008 bingo card.

— word count: 1.7k

— warnings: cursing, mentions of divorced parents

— featuring: p1h jongseob, kiof haneul

— a/n: i will die on the riki spiderman hill. anyways enjoy this thing while i kms over finishing eat me up 😆😆😆🙏🙏🙏

series masterlist

i. COFFEE, NEWS, AND A SPECIAL GUEST

You were sat at a table with two of your friends, Haneul and Jongseob, in your favorite coffee shop. For it being in New York City, it had a quaint atmosphere, something that not a lot of places here had. You three were exchanging in conversation about school while drinking your drinks.

You and Haneul had just been laughing at some stupid joke she made about one of your teachers at your school: Midtown School of Science and Tech. You hated the fact that of all people, you had to go there. You only had three real friends anyway, Jongseob, Haneul, and your best friend, Riki.

Speaking of Riki, he was supposed to join you all at the coffee shop today, but had just not shown up, no warning. He had a tendency to do that as of late, and it had you losing your mind over what the hell he could be doing that’s so important.

Suddenly, Jongseob pointed his finger at the TV behind both you and Haneul, interrupting your conversation and grabbing your attention. You craned your neck to take a look at what he was pointing out, but your eyes had to take a second to focus. The news was on, but the camera was moving so rapidly that you couldn’t place your finger on what was happening onscreen.

As if it had read your mind, the news now had subtitles accompanying the chaos, some speech about the alleged “Spider-Man” saving some people from a threat. You had seen pictures in the newspaper of the anthropoid-human figure, some videos on a new platform called YouTube, and even caught him in person once, swinging from building to building.

You didn’t really understand all the hype, though. Sure, it was cool that he could save people or whatever, but there had never really been an actual “supervillain” for him to defend the city from, so most of the time you called bullshit on his “powers”.

It was a little cool, though. Just a little.

The TV screen suddenly went black, signifying that something had happened to the camera or news station. You couldn’t tell, you hadn’t been paying that close of attention anyways.

Turning back around, you were met with a gaping Jongseob.

“What is wrong with you?” you teased, pointing out his facial expression. Haneul laughed and mimicked him.

“Stop it,” he commented, fixing his face, “I just think he’s cool, is all.”

“Awww,” Haneul reached across the table and grabbed Jongseob’s cheeks, “our little baby is a fanboy!”

He swatted her hands away before pulling his wrist to check his watch. You took a peak at the wall clock in the shop.

It was 5:17 PM, April 10th, 2008. Stopping by the cafe after school with your friends was always your favorite, but you’d been there for almost two and a half hours now, you should probably leave.

You gave Jongseob and Haneul a pointed look, and you could tell that you were all thinking the same thing. It would be best to go.

You stood up, grabbing your mug and bringing it to the counter, asking the worker for a to-go cup so you could leave. You returned to the table and grabbed your bag and your iPod from off the table, which Haneul had been using for the time being.

Walking back to the counter, the barista called out your name and handed you the coffee in the to-go cup.

Jongseob and Haneul met you near the counter, you three now taking your leave from the coffee shop. Jongseob opened and held the door for you two.

The streets of the city were as busy as ever, people, traffic, flashing lights, you were used to it all. Even in a neighborhood less close to the heart of the city, it was crazily busy. You watched from across the street as a man was casually walking backwards, another man was breakdancing for money, and a woman was scantily clad calling out at random strangers from her window. Some classy city you lived in.

You shook your head as you exited the building, taking a right to head towards the subway station, which was about three blocks away from the cafe. Haneul and Jongseob quickly caught up with you, following your lead.

“I don’t know,” Jongseob started, “I think it’s just be cool to see Spider-Man in person.”

You groaned and looked over your shoulder at him, “So we’re back on this now?”

“Sorry, sorry. I’m just saying,” Jongseob defended himself, shrugging at you.

“I just don’t really think I get the hype,” you admitted, picking up your pace as you reached a crosswalk.

“What’s there to not get?!” Haneul cocked her head at you, furrowing her eyebrows but still smiling.

“I dunno,” you said, reaching the other side of the crosswalk, “I just don’t think he’s all that.”

“Sounds to me like you’re just being a hater for no reason,” Haneul commented.

“Maybe I am,” you replied, “so what? It’s not like he’s ever gonna know.”

The steps down to the subway station quickly came into view, so all three of you picked up the pace. Ever since you left the cafe and got closer to the heart of the city, the human traffic only picked up. You had to almost shove your way through to get to where you needed to go.

You grabbed your Metro Card out of your bag, ready to swipe your card as you neared the entrance.

Once through, you three stepped up to the platform, waiting for the subway. Moments later, Jongseob’s phone started blasting his ringtone — “Low” by Flo Rida — and begging to be answered. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, he had a much newer phone than yours. He was lucky enough to get an Ericsson P1i, one you’d been wishing for, hoping to have for a little less than a year now.

You were stuck with a dingy Nokia N70, a hand-me-down from your older brother, which was now an almost three year old phone. You couldn’t always complain though, some of your classmates weren’t allowed to have individual smart phones. It was hard for you to believe; it’s 2008 now, not the 1800s!

Jongseob quickly answered the phone to who you assumed was his mother because his demeanor completely changed. Seconds after he answered, the subway pulled up, and you three filed yourselves in.

At the other end of the car you’d just entered, there was someone performing music with a guitar and a hat on the floor for money. You really didn’t want to listen to whatever was going on, so you fished your iPod and Apple earphones from out of your bag and drowned out reality. The music wasn’t bad, per se, in fact it was better than a crack addict being in the car, but you just weren’t in the mood today.

Your green iPod started playing “Thnks fr th Mmrs” by a band called Fall Out Boy, a song you had recently purchased on iTunes.

You let your mind drift to Riki. It’d been like that all too often lately. He wouldn’t even do anything and you’d be thinking of him. You knew you liked him more than a friend, you had now for a while. You weren’t stupid. But with all the flakiness he had been pulling lately, you began to get annoyed with him.

A few songs later and you were at your stop. Haneul and Jongseob still had a stop to go, so even when they offered to walk you home, you politely declined. You knew the way home well, and it wasn’t even dark yet. Plus, you had a taser in your bag.

You straightened your white blouse and plaid skirt before bidding your goodbyes to your friends, stepping out of the car and making your way back up the stairs up to the ground level.

You didn’t live extremely close to the inner city, you were about 15 minutes away by subway. It was far enough to not go crazy by the amount of light that Times Square had always elicited at night, but close enough to where you didn’t feel isolated from the inner city life.

The next song on your playlist was “How to Save a Life” by The Fray, a new favorite of yours. It had come out last year but you weren’t sure how you’d missed out on it for so long. As soon as you got the iPod for Christmas with an iTunes card, you bought that song. 2007 really did have the best hits.

As you slipped through alleyways to get to your street, you made sure not to spill any of your coffee. You hadn’t been drinking it so the cup was mostly filled, but you were waiting until you got home. You’d probably post about it on MySpace.

You got through a few more alleyways and back to a more crowded street that led to your mom’s apartment, easing your nerves as you approached your safe space.

Maybe it was because you had your earphones in, maybe it was because you’d been looking down at your iPod for a second too long so you could turn up your music, or maybe you were too distracted, your mind still on Riki.

No matter what it was, you definitely weren’t expecting to see Spider-Man swinging around your neighborhood. He had a bit of swagger about him naturally.

You wondered who hid under that mask.

Once your eyes left his figure, you once again drew your attention towards your iPod, turning it up once more. You believed it would be optimal for you to go deaf.

Within an instant, your once white blouse had hot coffee spilled all over it. Your mouth flew open, turning around to face the culprit that had bumped into you, roughly, causing you to spill your drink. You weren’t even sure how the drink had spilled as much as it did, you had a safety lid on it.

When you whipped your head around, you did not expect to be met face-to-face with none other than your personal hero, Spider-Man. You couldn’t believe what happened, immediately starting to curse out the man under the suit.

“Yo, can you watch where the fuck you’re going, man? You ruined my shirt, thanks.”

Instead of offering an apology, Spider-Man stood there for a few seconds before simply webbing away.

Some fucking hero he was.