#this video cracks me up everytime I see it there were absolutely no thoughts behind melissa’s eyes | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bubblegumbeech · 3 years

Text

The Librarian’s Trick

Day one Ectoberhaunt: Trick or Treat

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34213519

Wes was certain this Cassius guy was a ghost. He had to be. Humans didn’t live on the outskirts of town in large decrepit clock towers that Wes was pretty sure didn’t exist last week .

Humans didn’t have red eyes and white hair (unless they had a condition called Albinoism, Wes had looked it up. But Albinoism also meant they had no melanin anywhere and Cassius Dark was decidedly tan in an admittedly attractive but decidedly not Albino kind of way)

Humans didn’t have fangs when they smiled but normal teeth whenever Wes tried to point out that He had FANGS. They were right there!!!

Humans didn’t spend all their time either with Danny Fenton (who was Also very much a ghost!! Which should be in the list of proof but no one believes it so it’s seperate but still!) or mysteriously absent.

And humans didn’t seem to know everything all the time but talk like a bad astrology website.

So Wes was going to find a way to prove it.

His first try had him sneaking a “ghost translator” he didn’t remember the stupid name Fenton’s dad called it when he bought it with his allowance, into the library where Cassius Dark supposedly worked.

Supposedly, because while he could be found there, Wes had never actually seen him doing anything other than reading. And it was never a book Wes recognized, like, he wasn’t reading the Twilight series or anything. The last book Wes saw had been a large ancient looking tome written in a language Wes didn’t recognize. But Everytime he tried (subtly! He was super nonchalant about it!) to take a picture it ended up blurry!! And No Kyle, it wasn’t because he was bad at taking photos .

But that didn’t matter because Wes had a different plan now. He was going to use the Fentons’ new version of their “ghost translator” thing, and see what happened. It was supposed to be both a translator and a truth decoder at the same time. So no matter what a ghost said, the device should say what they actually mean. Or something.

With Danny, a bunch of innocuous stuff went off around him, but people always hand waved it as faulty tech. Wes wasn’t sure that was the case, in fact he was positive it wasn’t. But if he could get something useful to build up from, that would be a good start. And every good reporter needed a start.

He stepped up to the Library’s front desk, where Cassius was sitting reading what was clearly a spell tome if the different summoning pentagrams in the open page Wes could see were anything to go by.

“Welcome Young Weston,” Cassius said, the hint of a smile hidden behind his red eyes as he closed his book. Wes could swear they were glowing slightly. Geez did this guy get his ‘how to pretend to be human’ classes from Fenton ?

… that would certainly explain why no one ever believed Wes, since that was a long beaten dead horse in his closet.

He, very discreetly, had the device hooked up to one of his earphones, which he kept in one of his ears like any normal less than perfectly mannered teenager as he asked Cassius Dark his questions.

“Excuse me sir? Do you work here?” he started with, it was a more or less innocuous question and one he actually wanted the answer to.

Cassius Dark smiled. “I do.”

My Job is all that was, is, and shall be. That which I set as my goal is beyond mortal comprehension and those I call master shall fall to my machinations. But yes, I get paid for sitting at this desk and answering questions sometimes. I am a ghost, fear me.

Wes tried not to sweat too obviously. What the fuck?

“Can you tell me where the journalism section is?” Wes decided to make a tactical retreat, at least his voice didn’t crack.

“Straight back for eight shelves and then turn right. It’s next to the Non-fiction books.”

I know what you’re looking for, I know why you are here. I know the exact time of your death and what will happen next. Your efforts amuse me though. I am a ghost, fear me.

What Wes did next was not exactly fleeing. But it wasn’t not fleeing either.

He’d have to try something else.

The next thing he wanted to try was a bit riskier. If you thought about it a certain way. But it also wasn’t if you thought about it the way Wes did.

He was going to use a phase-proof net.

Genius, because unlike the translator machine thing, it would actually stop the ghost from attacking Wes if it got angered. Which it would, probably, since Wes was throwing a net at it.

The plan was really simple though, he’d gotten a very large net, paid extra for the little aim thing, practiced half a billion times of his brothers before they went to the parents and got him grounded for a week, and then memorized the path Cassius Dark took in the mornings to go to his “job” at the library.

Right now he was hiding in one of the leafier trees, right above the path that Cassius always used, waiting.

And waiting.

And… waiting.

Honestly he was about to go home and was fairly certain this guy was going to be like, super late to work, when he finally appeared.

Wes wasted no time aiming, making sure the trajectory was absolutely perfect, and firing the net off. He was just about to jump in celebration, watching the net as it curled slightly around its target, but before it could hit and wrap around him, Cassius was suddenly not there.

Or he was, but just a little bit to the left, so that the net sailed harmlessly past.

Wes cursed.

The third one was fool proof. It had to be.

Which was why Wes was staring at a large conspiracy board, covered in paparazzi-esque shots of the librarian and random notes he’d taken, all connected with a dizzying amount of red string.

“Kyle, seriously. I need to figure out what kind of ghost he is or he’s always going to have the upper hand!!”

Kyle just rolled his eyes and continued playing his video game, as if he didn’t care that Wes had set up his very important planning and plotting in the middle of the living room so long as it didn’t interfere with his own plans.

“It has to be pretty powerful, he was able to dodge my net before it even touched him. And the translator thing clearly said ‘my goal is beyond comprehension’ or something,” Wes mused, “and he also said his job was like, everything?”

Wes checked his notes, “yeah, ‘all that is was and shall be’. What could he mean by that?”

His very annoying and clearly not taking this as seriously as he should brother just chuckled. “I don’t know Wes, maybe he can see the future?”

That… no. That’s way too OP. Just the thought of it sent a shiver down Wes’ spine. There was no way a ghost could see the future right?

Right?

He had to test this theory.

But how do you even test something like that?

“Kyle, how would you test if someone could see the future?”

“Throw something at the back of their head and see if they dodge?” He answered way too quickly.

Wes thought about it for a moment. “No, what if they just have really good reflexes?”

“Oh huh, I guess that could be true. No idea then.” He shrugged and Wes had to fight the urge to throw something at the back of his head.

Whatever. He had to make plans.

He’d tried just throwing things. It was risky, and kind of terrifying, but Kyle was right it was the first that came to mind.

But Cassius never dodged. He was always just, not where Wes thought he was. Or Wes had really bad aim, which he didn’t!!! He was a basketball ace!! He had great aim! And great situational awareness!!

So why couldn’t he hit Cassius Dark?

Obviously it was because he could see the future. And the smug smile he always had when he knew Wes was looking reminded him an awful lot of a certain other Phantom.

Ask him about his family.

Easy enough. Especially without the Fenton’s weird translator because that might have been a bit terrifying. And also this time he had back up.

He dragged Kyle by his sleeve into the library.

“Mr. Cassius!”

Cassius looked up from his book, removing the delicate reading glasses balanced on his nose. “Can I help you Mr. Weston?”

“Yes!” He smiled broadly, taking out a small notebook that he had used to take notes on the suspicious and ghoulish things going on around town until it was mostly shreds of paper. “I’m writing an OP ED on the town library, and would like to know more about the librarian. Can you answer a few personal questions?”

Kyle snorted and Wes had to elbow him in the side to get him to shut up. He was here as back up, not to ruin his plan.

“So,” he began, “is Cassius a family name?”

“No.”

Wes nodded. And then frowned. Did ghosts have families? Supposedly they were alive once right? At least that was the general idea, Wes thought.

“So what can you tell us about your parents? Like, what’s your father’s name?”

Cassius raised an eyebrow, and had a soft smile filled with good humor. Wes felt it hit him like a threat. What was this ghost hiding?

Well, other than the fact that he’s a ghost.

“I can’t tell you much I’m afraid. My mother is long gone and I never had a father.”

Kyle grimaced and elbowed Wes himself before saying, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“It’s no matter,” Cassius replied, still smiling, “I may yet see her again.”

Ah, so either she wasn’t dead or he’s convinced she became a ghost too. That made sense. It could be his unfinished business as they say among the paranormal hunters. At least, the not fight-y and crazy ones.

“So Dark was your mother’s name?” Wes asked, wondering if he could maybe find any records on her where he had failed to find them on Cassius himself.

The smile slid right off his face. Wes and Kyle both felt the subtle chill in the air as Cassius leaned back and looked off to the side, as if to glare at something that wasn’t there. “No, I’m afraid Dark is my ex-husband’s name.”

“Why keep it?” Kyle asked, completely ignoring the danger of the situation.

The smile came back, except this time instead of soft and barely there as if he were indulging a child, it was sharp and twisted. He chuckled at an inside joke no one else in the room would ever understand and then he said, “Well, it’s not like he has any use for it now.”

Wes paled. Had he killed his husband?!

After a hasty retreat from the library Wes treated Kyle to a milkshake and fries at the nasty burger just as he had promised. Payment for going along with his ‘weird ghost theories’.

But Wes couldn’t eat, he was too busy thinking. This one actually helped! He found information about the ghost’s previous life! He had a mother, but not a father, and had a husband.

With the current politics it was one of two options. Either he was from a previous culture that allowed men to marry each other, or he was a more recent ghost than Wes had been expecting. He had already taken out his laptop and was scrolling through obituaries with the surname Dark, trying to think if he knew any off the top of his head that might have been in town when they died.

Nothing particular came to mind.

Wes’ thinking was interrupted by a loud, obnoxious slurping noise from his brother. He shot him a glare, but Kyle didn’t react. Wasn’t even looking at him. Instead he was looking out the window and watching one of the daily ghost attacks with Phantom playing hero as always.

“You know, it’s kinda cool that they’re hiring actors to build the town’s lore like that,” he said, clearly ignoring the obvious evidence of ghosts right outside his window.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Wes groaned, rubbing at his eyes. He needed coffee or something, it was a shame the Nasty Burger only served sludge no sane person would drink.

Kyle finally looked away from the window, his eyes wide as if he was the one confused. “You know, how they got the librarian to say he was married to Pariah Dark? And then imply he’s the reason he’s a ghost?”

Wes felt like the seat underneath him had suddenly disappeared. “Where did you get That from?!”

“He said his ex-husband was named Dark! Pariah Dark’s Ghost Zone show is the first thing that comes to mind!” Kyle argued back. “Isn’t it?”

Holy shit this guy was married to the ghost king.

He thought back to the ominous answers he’d gotten that first day from the Fentons’ translator. Maybe he should leave this one alone.

Wes was at the library, studying quietly and absolutely avoiding the librarian. Not that he’d seen him today, but it didn’t hurt to keep his head down. With any luck the guy had a short memory and would forget Wes had been trying to find a way to out him to the town.

A portal ripped from the air in front of him, sending a static energy throughout the library and causing Wes’ hair to stand on end. It was a swirling purple, deeper and more… well more than most of the natural portals that Wes had seen appear around town.

He wanted to scream, but years of living in Amity Park had fully trained that out of him. Screaming was the number one way to get a ghost locked on you as their first target. Especially if you were there when the portal opened.

Before Wes could even think to duck under the table he was using a figure stepped out of the portal, poised and composed. He had a deep purple hood that seemed to swirl with the fabric of galaxies and a large ornate clock embedded into his chest. His skin was a rich blue and he had glowing red eyes.

Wes recognized him immediately.

“Oh, hello Mr. Weston, is there something I can help you with?” Cassius Dark asked.

#Danny Phantom #ectoberhaunt 2021 #clockwork dp #wes weston dp #background dark ages #Bee's writing #fanfiction

52 notes · View notes

princessjungeun · 4 years

Text

Cat Ladies: Lisa X Reader

Request: may i please request one where the reader doesn’t like cats but she’s lisa’s girlfriend and lisa is determined to show the reader that cats aren’t scary so she takes her to a shelter and they volunteer with kittens and weeks pass and eventually the reader ends up adopting a cat that she got attached to 🥺

It was absolutely no secret that Lisa loved cats and kittens. She was literally a cat lady, have four of her own. Everytime she saw you she had a new picture of Leo or Lily to show you, or a video of Louis and Luca.

The one thing was, you absolutely hated cats. It all stemmed from one bad experience with a cat as a child, and you’ve never quite recovered from it.

You were about six years old when your neighbor asked you and your older sister to cat sit while she was on vacation. You were in charge of changing the litter box, your older sister tricking you by saying that it was like a treasure hunt. I mean she wasn’t exactly wrong...it was just a really gross one.

You had been in the bedroom where the litter boxes were all by yourself. Your sister keeping the one kitten busy with toys while you sifted through mountains of kitty litter. A low purr resonated through the silent room, coming from right next to the bed. You knew the older cat was grumpy and actually quite mean. Your neighbor went telling you not to mess with him for too long.

On their first day you realized maybe the old cat wasn’t as fun as the little kitten, especially after he hissed at you when you tried to pet him.

Nevertheless the stepped closer to the bed, looking for the old grumpy ass cat. As you wondered if he was hiding by the pillows you felt something sharp scratch your foot underneath the bed.

You didn’t give it a second thought, running out of the room with the small bag of litter box waste in one hand. As you cried loudly, your older sister threw away the bag in your hand, trying to get you to tell her what happened. When she found out, she just laughed in your face. After all you were perfectly fine, it was just a small scratch, even a bandaid would be over dramatic.

Since then you have sworn that you’d never be in the presence of a cat by choice. When you met Lisa and she told you she had cats, you were actually considering telling her that the relationship wouldn’t work out. But she wasn’t the type of person to let that happen.

So she would always put her cats away in whatever room when you came over. After about three times you felt bad, especially hearing Lily’s soft meows from the other side of the door.

As a result, you told her to just come over to your place. The only pet you had was a little turtle so it wasn’t like you had to lock her up somewhere.

It had been Lisa’s goal from day one to get you over your fear of cats, or at least kittens. Which is exactly why your girlfriend brought you to an animal shelter that focuses on caring for abandoned and abused cats and kittens.

“Lisa where are you making me drive to?” You asked, not taking your eyes off the road.

Your girlfriend replied, “stop asking questions and drive.”

You told her, “I swear Pranpriya ‘Lalisa’ Manoban if this address is another fricking cat café- I will literally bust your knee caps.”

She threw her head back in laughter as she remembers the time she’d dragged you to a cat cafe. You sat outside the cafe as she was inside enjoying herself surrounded by cats.

She put her hand on your clothes thigh, “it’s not. So don’t worry.”

When you arrived and read the sign above the door you told her, “I better be reading the sign wrong. If I walk in there and there’s a bunch of cats...Lisa I swear to God you know I can’t do cats.”

She could tell by the tone in your voice that you were actually scared and not mad at her. She told you, “this is my favorite place to come when I can. It’s a shelter for cats and kittens that have been victims of some sort of mistreatment or abuse. All of the animals here are so sweet. To be honest...unfortunately most of them will probably be more afraid of you than you are of them.”

You nodded, “alright...but if I don’t like it I’m gonna come back and sit in the car and wait for you.”

Lisa nodded and said “alright are you ready?”

You nodded and followed her out of the car, her hand in yours as you walked into the building.

“Hi Mrs. Kang!” Lisa chirped to the woman behind the desk.

The older woman smiled, “ahhh Lalisa! It’s so good to see you, and I see you brought someone along this time.”

Lisa nodded and said, “this is my girlfriend Y/N. Y/N this is director and owner of the shelter Mrs. Kang.”

You smiled and bowed, the woman doing the same for you.

She told Lisa, “we got two new kittens early this morning. One is at the vet right now but the other is in a pen by herself. She’s still very small, but very friendly already. Other than that you can go on back and play with the older cats. A few litter boxes might need to be cleaned as well.”

Lisa nodded and put on an apron, handing one to you as well. The second she walked through the large doors that opened to the back of the shelter, you felt your hesrt sink in fear. There were so many cats of all breeds and sizes.

Your girlfriend pulled you to her side, lets go find the baby hmm?”

No nervously nodded and followed her, stopping at a small pen where the sleeping kitten was. The name plate over the pen reading:

Clove: Russian Blue (pink)

Delta: Russian Blue (purple)

Lisa looked at the hot pink collar around the kitten’s neck, “hmm Delta must be the one that’s away right now then.”

She opened the pen and picked up the other kitten gently, immediately she curled into the warmth of her body. Your girlfriend cooed and rubbed the kitten’s head, almost dying of cuteness.

“Do you wanna pet her?” Lisa asked, moving closer to you. You hesitated but then decided one little pat couldn’t hurt.

It was less of a pat and more of a poke, right on the side of the little kitten’s head. She let out a soft meow and your heart instantly melted.

Lisa handed you the towel she was wrapped in before passing her to you. You held the small kitten in your arms and mumbled to her softly, “you’re not so scary after all huh?”

Your girlfriend pointed you to a chair and made sure you were set before moving around to do whatever work Mrs. Kang threw at her. Lisa worked quickly, as if she actually did work here full time. She knew the other people and volunteers that worked there and they knew her. They cracked jokes as if they’d been friends for years and worked well together like colleagues.

At the end of the day you were sitting outside, the kitten still in your arms. Lisa came and sat next to you.

Your girlfriend asked, “soooo...kittens aren’t so scary huh?”

You shook your head and said “no, not at all. I like this one. She’s cute.”

Lisa replied, “well it’s time to say goodbye, we have to head home now. I’m glad you had fun with Clove today though. And i’m very proud of you, you came a long way in 8 hours.”You nodded, smiling as you still looked down at the little kitten in your arms.

•

Weeks passed and you found yourself going to the shelter to volunteer a few times a week. Each time you went you made sure to visit Clove and Delta for a bit. The kitten’s both took a liking to you, and you quite frankly adored them.

You brought up adopting Clove and Delta to Mrs. Kang a few times and she was more than happy to help you with that process. It wasn’t until you saw someone come and take a look at the two kittens that you realized you needed to adopt them.

So you did, and no, you did not tell Lisa.

You called you girlfriend over the day you adopted them, not able to contain your happiness any more. When she walked through your apartment door she walked straight past Delta and Clove, not noticing them at all.

Until she heard a soft meow, and felt a tail brush her ankle. She looked down then up at you, “oh my god, YOU STOLE CLOVE AND DELTA?!”

You sighed and said, “Lisa- I- You- NO! I didn’t steal the babies, I adopted them dummy.”

She exhaled and said “oh...well that’s less fun. WAIT- You actually adopted them? They’re yours now?!”

You nodded happily as Clove climbed up onto the couch and into your arms, Delta settling in Lisa’s. Your girlfriend stated, “I guess we’re both cat ladies now huh?”

#kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff #blackpink scenarios #blackpink imagines #blackpink lisa

68 notes · View notes

cyber-flight · 5 years

Text

Notes from the AHWM Explanation Livestream

This will be long, so fair warning! If you're on computer, you can press the spacebar to skip this post if you want!

There was CG smoke for the bomb

The last shot was running after the bomb goes off, filmed during the day

Many cursed images

(0:56 - Guns Blazing) November 5th = gunpowder treason & plot (a reference)

Ethan is the one yelling during the run

Helicopter/Car was filmed in a place formerly known as Spiderwoods (spiders, snakes, and bugs everywhere)

Mark's patented method to get rid of snakes is to tell them to fuck off

There was big black snake near the library

Chica snore-grumbles

Most of the choices were pretty evenly split in the video data

The guy who owned the field in Helicopter/Car also owned the helicopter

It was hard to get the cameraman to know that the camera is an interacting character

They filmed up to 10 pages a day

Prison was the first 2 days of shooting, as well as the part with the most characters/extras (12 people)

Mick gets typecasted in roles of authority

The Prison location is a functioning mental hospital

John was a Prisoner, first mate, and is a realtor IRL

There is no "why" to recording this to keep a broad audience and have fun after Mark was in a depression and made WKM

The Gregory Brothers / Schmoyoho made 2 renditions of I Don't Wanna Be Free (which is on Apple/iTunes/Spotify)

The musical was a production/recording nightmare on the 2nd day

They had 20 minutes max. to learn each segment; they had a choreographer helping them learn the dances

The original vocals didn't have the accent

Mark had to do the vocals, acting, blocking, etc. in 30 mins

Mick was supposed to cross frame during the top-hats-part, but they had already recorded it; the producers weren't comfortable telling Mark "no" yet, so they had Amy do it

The smashed bricks were styrofoam; Mark was typed to a rope that was pulled

The director of photography was Phillip J Roy; he took a pay cut to work on this project

Yancy's sleeve tattoo is the whole map again

Yancy's tattoos are Tiny Box Tim and Mark/Dark across his knuckles; those were Makeup's ideas

The Musical was only 1/4 of a recording day

There was 3 work weeks of shooting (15 days)

Day By Dave made a remix

Yancy was named "Prison Mark" until the fight scene started to be made in post-production, where he needed a name; Mark liked Yancy and Amy was very against it originally

Yancy killed both of his parents; Mark knew people were gonna fall in love with him anyway

"Yancy stans, go, march on"

Yancy has an emoji bandaid

Heapass (canonically) makes an appearance in Thanks and also Yes Please; he had "Heapass" on a cast, but it was on the wrong side from the camera

Holt Boggs (the cell guard) is an amazing man; he was overqualified ("soft hands")

The cell was in a green-screen soundstage, so there was more improve

Yancy was supposed to be hidden in the ceiling or beside the bed, but under the bed turned out better; he's hidden under the bed the whole scene

The Red Gemini was the camera that they used for this project

Mark just runs off frame in Thanks and also Yes Please

The audio-only part was very convenient for filming and fitting for a 1st-person perspective

Yancy's talk at the gate was Mark real-acting & the late shot of the 1st day of filming, which made all of them realize that the project could actually work

Yancy WANTS to be in prison; he knows all the ways out - he'd leave if he wanted to

The items in the box are more representational achievements

Mark needs our help to promote AHWM, through liking the video(s), commenting good things, and spreading the project; the performance of this dictates the ability to make another similar project

Mark worked for FREE for 5 months, taking no cut of the budget for himself

"Yancy is just Prison Mark with amnesia" "There could be a time-skip there; it could work"

Robert Rex, "a god walking amongst mere morals;" has always wearing the same thing; Mark didn't know that he was going to do different accents

Amy is the hand with the feather-duster

The Warden's desk moves into the hallway after a smash-cut

Mick's line had to be rewritten so it can be ambiguous; you can only tell if you were looking

The Warden embodies "big strong hands," something Mark writes into dialogue a lot (along with "trust you me"); everytime he touches something it cracks (his desk, Yancy's shoulder)

Pulling stuff from behind Mark's back was on-the-spot

The dirt joke was a prop-person and Mark throwing buckets

Mark helped Holt Boggs make a short video

HOLT BOGGS

The truck in Prison was a one-take-wonder; they actually bashed the truck through the wall in a such a cartoony, perfect way

The Bob/Wade skit was a reference to Prop Hunt

Mark comparing the disappointment of people not liking the video to a cup of dirt under the Christmas tree

The lid to the sewer says "a heist with markiplier"

The sewer was in an actual sewer treatment plant, which took about a week of filming; some parts were flooded so they couldn't film there; this place was scheduled to be torn down

Mark forces us to choose the Light Tunnel first

Cranbersher, GrittySugar, and Lixian collaborated for the Light Tunnel; it was originally going to be live action with a green-screen and a pre-made raft; Cranberser offered when he had a 3-month break from other projects

Amy notes that Mark did a lot of "falling"

Mark had to carry a 200 pound man and a heavy camera rig to carry Y/N

There was poison ivy, snakes, spiders, etc. on the island

The Game Grumps voiced the aliens; Erin originally was meant to play the Warden & Danny was meant to play one of the guards

Many roles fluctuated due to scheduling

Getting abducted is a reference to ADWM ("not again!")

Mark loves MatPat's scenes and acting (Build a Shelter)

There were so many mosquitos near the Cave and the actors couldn't put on bug spray because they had to preserve their makeups

There was a giant hole in the Cave from which grasshoppers rained down

They were a mile into the cave; they weren't able to staff them for 3 days, so they recorded for 2 days and had fo cut some shots

The Cave freeze-frame was unscripted; the camera director didn't tell cut and it was too funny

The Hermit was originally supposed to be Jacksepticeye but scheduling errors were in the way

Mick was originally supposed to be Crazy Ed

When the sound-guy didnt have a sound effect, one of them riffed something at the mic and it was modulated to fit as best as possible

Mark's camera loses signal/battery power

Mark has done the hot-wire-while-moving in Car before (van videos)

The blue flash during Car is you from the future/another timeline

Mark was actually driving the car; someone flashed the blue light so it was a bit dangerous

Tyler and Ethan make appearances as Zombies

Tyler actually let Mark hit him with a rock

There was a dead beaver in the shed during the Zombie Apocalypse

The Zombie Apocalypse shots were in VERY hot weather

The barricaded front door but very open back door was intentional humour

Ethan's zombie handshake was thought up on the spot

Moe was the man screaming from the fire and zombie attack, making everyone behind the camera laugh

Rosanna Pansino sings opera & speaks Chinese

The Scientist had to be broken up (the cuts are in the gunshots)

243 is a chemical identification symbol in an actual laboratory, nothing meaningful to the plot

The code leads to the AHWM website

What's truly inside the box is the real timeline, which is the team making the project

The room where the monitor was in (Amy, script manager, etc.) was locked out and no one could see what was going on, only hear it through headsets

Mark threw 2 dummies (main video, Absolutely Not!)

Chica likes to climb through the cords underneath Mark's desk

The true/canon ending is For The Greater Good, which leads to ADWM

SodaPopIn hasn't really done this before, but he went with it because he was told Mark was nice; he continued even during harsh weather, many planes, and a long take/monologue

The sandwiches are a callback to ADWM

The montage endings were inspired by the ones Amy made for ADWM

There was never any time set aside to get photos for the montages, so they had to continuously get pictures

Catherine makes an appearance in the Warfstache bit

Warfstache is just a meta joke > you respond by writing in the comments as a survey, producer Catherine is more powerful than the video-editing, ringing the bell for notifications

They rented the same place for the Warfstache bit that they used to film all the other previous Warfstache bits

Dark inserts himself wherever he feels like being

There is charity (#TeamTrees) merch for each of the egos/Mark characters in this project (including the new ones)

Edge of Sleep's last episode aired yesterday (as of the stream - 6/11/19)

A "reverse" charity livestream is happening soon

The next project(s) are already in the works

SPREAD THE WORD ABOUT HEIST

Amy originally wasn't going to work on this project until they went to Texas; she became Creative Producer once Mark put himself into too many places

Iba originally auditioned for the man in the burning truck, but his voice was so good he became the seer/guide

The project has been "cooking" since May

The next project would be a completely different project, not a continuation

SPREAD THE WORD ABOUT HEIST

Regular uploads start again tomorrow (7/11/19)

2K notes · View notes

emma-nation · 4 years

Text

Unfinished Business - F! Sam Dalton x MC Fanfiction (Chapter 3)

Summary: When Sam Dalton is caught in a scandal, Anna Schuyler is the only one who can help her. But will her former nanny be able to leave the past behind?

“Samantha Dalton was like one of good dreams you don’t want to wake up from. You close your eyes, you force your brain to remember every minor detail, you begin to imagine what comes next… hoping to be in control. You want to fall asleep again. You want it to continue, but it’s too late now. You’re wide awake.”

Genre: Angst, Romance

Tag List: @save-me-the-last-dance, @nydeiri (If you wish to be tagged for future chapters/fics of this pairing, let me know)

Being back to that motel room brought a turmoil of feelings inside Anna's chest. Deep down, she knew the real reason why she was standing in the same room as Sam Dalton again. Yet, she felt the constant need of reminding it to her brain, and especially her heart.

"I'm doing this for Jack," she repeated mentally. "I must get the money to pay for his treatment."

"I'm glad you accepted my offer, Anna," Sam said. "But it's late now, you should probably get some rest. Tomorrow we can start to work."

"Right, I'll get a room."

She knew what Sam was about to offer, so she anticipated herself and left through the door, giving her no chance to speak. There was absolutely no possibility she'd spend the night in the same room as that woman. By the morning, she could grab Sam's gadgets and work by herself. They didn't have to speak, or even see each other. That was a professional deal and nothing more.

"My apologies, Ms. Schuyler," the receptionist spoke as she typed on her computer. "We're crowded."

"Uhhh... I... I only need a bed for a few hours," Anna handed her some extra cash. "Anything is fine."

Even the janitor's room would be better than sharing the bed with her ex lover. It was almost scientifically proven that any physical contact between them could not end well. Or it could end too well, considering how great she was in bed. Anna shook her head dismissing those thoughts.

"Ms. Schuyler, you don't understand. We don't have any rooms."

"Fine! I'll sleep right here."

She stomped to a small couch in the reception room, trying to curl her body enough to make herself a little bit comfortable. She closed her eyes for a minute, when a voice brought her back from her failed attempt of falling asleep.

"Really, Anna?" Sam sighed. "You can take my bed. I'll sleep on the floor."

"I don't want it, thank you," she quickly closed her eyes again. "I don't want to be so near to you in such a small space."

"You can take my room then. I'll... I'll stay up, walking around. I haven't been able to sleep since it all started anyways."

Anna opened her eyes again. Sam seemed to be exhausted. Her face gave it away. The scandal was truly affecting her. After dedicating her whole life to that company, she was about to lose everything. Including her children if she went to jail. And that was when their eyes met.

"I can't believe I'm here," she rolled her eyes on the bed. She was trying hard to not move, or make any sounds that indicated she was still awake. Sam kept her promise, she was sleeping on the floor, very far away from the bed. "Those damn puppy dog eyes. They make her seem so innocent!"

"Good night, Anna," what was it? Was she reading thoughts now?

"Good night, Sam," she rolled to the side, facing the wall until she fell asleep.

When she woke up in the morning, Sam was already awake. Outside the room she seemed to be busy on the phone with her lawyers. Anna took a shower and changed her clothes before she returned.

"Anna, good morning," Sam met her after some time. "I didn't want to wake you up."

"I didn't want to disturb your phone call," Anna told. "Any important news?"

"They've set the trials to start three weeks from now. We'll need to work fast. But I told them I may have found a manner to prove my innocence, they're optimistic."

"Okay then, let's get to work."

Anna turned on Sam's computer. Password protected. The first step to narrow the suspect's list was to discover how safe Sam's password could be. Anna tried a few guesses.

"What are you doing?" The CEO asked.

"Trying to guess your password," Anna answered. "Through this, we can find out how close to you our suspect can be."

"This is smart. Though I can't think of anyone who would be able to guess it."

"Not even Sofia?"

"No, she wouldn't know."

After lots of combinations, Anna threw her hands in the air. Without an expert cracking method, it was impossible. Sam approached, typing a combination of numbers and letters: 'M9S16N2M00CK7Y'.

"Hmmm it's long and safe," she asked curiously. "What is it by the way?"

"A mix of the boys' names and the date I met their mom," Sam told.

"Your first wife, huh? You never talk much about her, so I guess no one would find out so easily."

Sam's expression suddenly became distant and somber. Her current situation was probably making all those old feelings resurface.

"The truth is I still feel guilty for her death. We had a fight that day, she thought I was spending too much time at work. I realized she was right, I came home with a surprise and... I received the news of her accident."

"I'm sorry. This wasn't your fault, Sam. It was a tragedy."

Not wanting to get involved, Anna turned her attention back to the computer screen. She didn't know where to start searching first. She wasn't sure she wanted to have all the pictures, videos and evidence of the last two happy years Sam spent with Sofia thrown in her face all at once. She wasn't ready for this.

"Okay..." she took a deep breath. "Remember, you're here for the money."

As she started scanning the folders for any suspicious files or activity, she was surprised. Most of the pictures were of Mason and Mickey, a few of Sam's parents and only a couple where she was accompanied by her wife. Her marriage seemed boring and unhappy, different from what the tabloids would often paint.

"So, did you find anything?" Sam asked after a few minutes.

"Not yet. Whoever is doing this to you was smart enough to not leave any tracks or..."

"Or what?"

"They didn't hack you. They had direct access to your computer."

"Are you suggesting..."

"You should trust no one. Not even Sofia, or Robin."

Sam's cell phone was now their only hope to find proof. Anna plugged it on the laptop and using some advanced software, she started analyzing its activity. It didn't take long for her to come across some evidence.

"Crap!" She shouted.

"What's going on?" Sam want to know.

"Not only somebody has hacked your phone, Sam. But they've bugged you too."

"Damn, they listened to all my conversation with the lawyers. They know what I'm trying to do!"

"Well, on a brighter side you need to take this to the police as soon as possible. It'll be more than enough to prove you didn't send that email."

Anna collected her stuff, Sam did the same. Now all she had to do was wait for her paycheck and leave. Easy as that. But before, she was going to grab some breakfast. All the adrenaline of the last few hours had her starving.

"Uh, what are you doing?" She asked, noticing Sam had followed her to the motel's cafeteria. "Aren't you going home?"

"I haven't had breakfast yet and..." And. Followed by the puppy dog eyes. Anna knew there was something else. "I was hoping you could come with me to the police station."

"I'm sorry, Sam. I don't wanna get any more involved, I've already have a ton to deal with right now. "

"I understand. Can you at least take me back to New York? Carter is with the boys in my parents' house."

Anna sighed in frustration. Everytime she thought she'd free herself from any contact with Sam, something new would come up. Again, she needed money and the CEO had more than enough to pay extra for a rid back to New York. She agreed. All for Jack... and a little revenge too. Samantha Dalton would be literally paying for every tear she made her cry.

"What's going on?" As they walked back to the room, Sam attempted to break the awkward silence that was always present between them. "In your life, I mean. You said you're dealing with a lot right now."

"It's... personal," Anna didn't want to give her details about her stepfather's health. "Family issues."

"Is this why you accepted my offer, Anna? Are you having money issues?"

"It doesn't matter."

"It does, because I still ca-" Sam's sentence was cut short by the surprise of seeing the door was open. "Did I forget to lock it when we left?"

"No, I'm pretty sure you did," Anna said. "I remember seeing you lock it."

As they entered, the room had been completely trashed. All of their clothes and belongings were scattered on the floor.

"No..." Sam rushed inside, knowing exactly what could be missing. She started searching everywhere for her cell phone and laptop. "No... it can't be."

Anna decided to help her. There wasn't any signs of the devices until she opened the bathroom's door and found they had been destroyed in a million pieces. Sam stood by her side, her mouth opened in shock and her eyes full of tears.

"I'm sorry, Sam," Anna placed a hand on her shoulder. "Someone is really determined to destroy you."

"What am I going to do now?" The woman sat on the edge of the bed. It was the second time Anna was actually seeing her cry. The only thing that had affected Samantha so badly in the past was her accident in Italy, days before her wedding with Sofia.

"I don't know..." Anna walked to the window. As she contemplated the world outside, she noticed as a black car was watching them. Its windows were heavily tinted, but she could distinguish the figure of a man behind the wheel. As soon as he noticed her staring, he drove away. "Damn it, we're being followed."

Sam was fast enough to approach in time to see the car leaving.

"We're not safe here, Anna."

"Right, you should go to your parents' house with the boys. I'm coming back to my small hometown, where I know no one will even bother following me there."

"I can't risk putting their lives in danger," Sam said, placing her clothes back into the bags. "I'm coming with you."

"What?!" Anna tried to protest, she tried to think of reasonable excuse to voice and prevent that madness from happening. It was too late, paralyzed with shock, she was already back to her car with Samantha, headed to Rhode Island.

"I hate myself," she thought, glancing discreetly at the passenger's seat. "It can't get any worse than this. Can it?"

As they parked in front of Anna's childhood home, she began to wonder what she'd be telling her parents about Sam. It was a small town. Even if the scandal had made to the national news, no one would ever imagine the CEO would be hiding there. They probably wouldn't even recognize her.

Her phone started ringing. It was Jenny. Now it would be the right time for some friendly advice. She left the car for privacy, standing under a tree.

"Hey Jenny."

"Hey. You promised me daily news, don't you remember?"

"I do, but not even in your wildest dreams you could imagine what happened..."

She told her everything, from Jack's illness to the fact Sam Dalton was inside her car, minutes away from being introduced to her family.

"Anna, you should have dropped her in the middle of the road!" Jenny yelled. "She's not your problem. She's her wife's problem. And it's not like she can't afford the best lawyers in the country, people like her will never go to jail."

"You're right," Anna agreed. "I should. Yet, I had no strength to do so. Even after everything she did to me, I couldn't stand seeing her suffer. God, I'm so stupid..."

"No, Anna. You have this great heart that will always help people, no matter who they are. This is part of you, and one of the reasons why I love you so much."

"Thank you, I... I learned it from Jack."

"Then go save him, you're doing the right thing. Even if it's crazy and absolutely stupid."

She turned off her phone and returned to the car. It was time to enter the house and face her parents.

"Ready?" She went back to the car.

"Anna, would you mind borrowing me your phone for a minute?" Sam asked. "I'm gonna call the lawyers to inform the incident."

Anna handed her the phone. But instead of dialing, Sam stared at the screen for minutes. She nervously ran a hand through her hair.

"What's going on? Something wrong?"

"Yes. Helena Hawthorne, the woman I'm being accused to sleep with, she released the pictures to the media. And Sofia is already filing for the divorce."

----------

Notes: (Oh Anna, you have no idea how worse it can get.)

Thank you so much for the feedback. It means a lot to me!

#the nanny affair #sam dalton x mc #sam x mc #f!sam x mc #choices tna #f!sam dalton x mc #tna #tna fanfiction #unfinished business

27 notes · View notes

peterthepark · 5 years

Text

Sleepwalk

Steve Harrington x You

Summary: Moving on from the past is hard, but forgiveness is a bit harder.

Warnings: lots of fluff, some angst

“No, we are absolutely not sharing a bed.”

You actively wave your hands about, bewildered with shock as Steve and Robin stand in front of you.

The hotel room reeks of cheap perfume, and you slowly feel yourself losing your mind. How could this happen? Was this some sick prank? Maybe you were exaggerating.

But this was something to exaggerate about. Steve and Robin exchange glances, both of their hands resting on their hips.

“I really thought I reserved two rooms, Y/N. I’m serious. Maybe they - they ran out of space so they had to give us one room altogether, you know?” Robin explains, face filled with concern as she plopped onto the couch. “But I mean, there are two beds.”

“Yeah, obviously, so why can’t I share a bed with you?” You cross your arms against your chest, clearly affected with the situation. Robin shrugs with a troublesome smirk, and you know exactly what she’s up to.

You’ve had mixed feelings for Steve Harrington for quite some time now. Ever since he had started working at Family Video, you were sort of encapsulated by his stupid hair and his stupid smile.

Now, sharing a bed with Steve wouldn’t be the best choice for someone who is trying to move on and for someone who thought that he was kind of an asshole. Although, you knew that Robin was only trying to help and mend your broken relationship with her newfound best friend.

But the feelings were again, mixed. Robin believed that you were in denial. To which you were - mostly.

Steve was a bully to you. He was nothing but a dick. Sure, that was all in the eight grade, maybe even a little ways into junior year, but he was mean and let popularity get to his head.

That big-haired boy had the audacity to call you names. He even had the wicked thought to ask you out as a joke for homecoming of sophomore year. You, mistakenly, had thought he was serious. You were stood up when you got to the school, all dressed up and fancy.

Steve Harrington was out of your league. He knew it. You knew it. Yet you still fell for one of his pranks.

It’s not your fault that you were here - stuck sharing a hotel room with ‘The Hair.’ In short, Robin had actually invited you on a road trip to Michigan, hoping that you could tag along with her, her other friends, and their younger siblings.

She never mentioned that King Steve would be there.

“It’s fine. I’ll take the couch.” Steve rolls his eyes, brushing past you with a clear frown. He sets his bags by the window, rustling through various jackets and clothing.

He gets why you’re angry at him. He admits that he was a dick - back then. But why can’t you focus on what he is now? Didn’t you see how much he’d changed since then?

You turn to Robin, questioning her actions through mouthing words at one another. She’s looking at you with wide and excited eyes, gesturing from the bed to Steve and back again. You shake your head at her, stepping closer so that you could really tell her how screwed up this was.

“Not cool! What the hell are you doing?” You whisper to her, pulling at the roots of your hair. “I don’t like him like that! I don’t like him at all!”

“Keep telling yourself that. Maybe it’ll actually manifest into reality.” She snaps back with wit, grinning widely when Steve turns around.

He looks at you, then Robin, before he sighs. Did he know? Did he hear you guys?

Great, you couldn’t wait to relive high school again.

“Is there a blow dryer in here? I don’t think I brought mine.” He scratches the back of his neck, where a pink blush starts to rise. “You don’t happen to have a blow dryer, right?”

Robin bites her lip, eyeing you. “Think Y/N does. She always seems prepared.”

And Steve cringes inwardly at the glare you’re giving him.

“Yeah. Sure. I have one.” You reply shortly, moving to rummage through your duffel bag. You clench your jaw as you hand the object to him, wincing when his nails scratch against your skin. “Just give it back when you’re done.”

“Yeah. Uh, cool. Thanks... Y/N.” You can hear the hesitancy in Steve’s voice, the anxious feeling of not knowing if he was over-stepping his boundaries with you.

He wanted to fix things. He really did.

But you were so set on ignoring him - completely looking over the fact that he was no longer the selfish prick who had ruled Hawkins High and dated the perfect Nancy Wheeler.

You watch with narrowed eyes as Steve gathers his belongings and rushes into the bathroom, giving you a shy glance before he shuts the door behind him. You hear the shower turn on, and you sigh loudly, slapping at the sides of your face as Robin starts to talk.

“I’m telling you. He’s changed. Give him a freaking chance.”

“Everytime I see him, I feel like I’m reliving sophomore year over and over again.” You explain, curling into yourself. You suddenly feel smaller, frustrated that Robin doesn’t seem to understand your fear and reluctance towards him. “All I can hear is the - the demeaning laugh he gave me when he found out that I actually went to the dance. Like come on, Robin. That scars a kid.”

“I know,” She bites her lip, before leaning over to squeeze your hand. “He’s hurt people before. And I get it, if you aren’t ready to forgive him, but he’s good. He’s a dingus, but a good guy, Y/N. He knows about the thing, too, yet he hasn’t once made fun of me about it.”

“I guess that’s a good sign.” You say, still uninterested in making amends with the asshole in the shower.

Speak of the devil.

Steve shuts the bathroom door behind him, ruffling his damp hair as he steps into yours and Robin’s conversation.

“So!” He claps his hands together, eyes darting between the both of you. “What will we be doing on this fine fine evening?” He knows he shouldn’t look at you, but he does, and catches your stare before you look away.

“Do you guys wanna watch a movie?”

And that’s how you all end up on Robin’s bed, cheap popcorn falling onto the ugly floor as you each try to toss it into your mouths. You’re rejoicing when you finally catch it, earning a needed high five from Robin.

That’s when Steve tries to high five you as well, and you can only narrow your eyes at his palm in the air. You give it a weak slap, hearing his awkward chuckle die down when you redirect your attention to something else.

Suddenly popcorn was the most interesting thing in the room for you.

“Jesus, it’s already late.” Robin breathes out, glancing down at the clock on the nightstand. She yawns, rolling up her empty bag of popcorn to toss it into the trash. “I’m gonna knock myself out. So, uh, get your own beds.” She shooes you and Steve off, chuckling tiredly as she begins to bury herself under the blankets.

Steve appears as if he’s about to say something, but you interject before anything - only for the both of you to talk over each other.

“I can take the couch.”

Fuck this.

“You can have the bed.”

You clasp your hands together, intertwining your own fingers as you realize how awkward this is.

You’d rather crawl into a hole... and wither.

As if this wasn’t a slow and painful death already.

“No, you take the bed.” Steve states, nodding over to the couch, “I’m fine here. Couch looks comfier anyways.” He exhales deeply through his mouth, hands rubbing at his forearms. “Uhm, good night, then.”

“Yeah. Night.” You respond politely, dragging your feet towards the empty bed while Steve plummets onto the couch. Your lips twitch into a small smile when you hear him curse at himself. You roll into the bed, head peeking out from under the covers as you look towards the couch.

He’d always be King Steve to you.

You can’t sleep.

After hours of tossing and turning, sighing and closing your eyes, nothing has worked. You can only stare up at the ceiling, trying to count sheep as a last resort to exhaustion.

Yeah, still can’t sleep.

You peel the covers quietly off of your body, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed. You carefully stand up, not wanting to wake anyone up. Robin snores softly, while Steve sleeps like a little baby. You take a cup of water from the fridge, sipping quietly as you lean against the TV stand.

Maybe fresh air would be helpful.

You gulp down the rest of the water, taking a blanket with you as you go to stand outside.

The late night is chilly, and you can barely see the sun on the horizon. You can hear the soft creaking of a bed from a few doors down, and you scrunch up your face in disgust. Strands of hair fly into your face as the wind begins to pick up. The parking lot of the motel is empty, except for the big van that Robin had used to drive here. The water of the motel pool reflects onto the walls, and you find solace as you take a seat on one of the deck chairs.

The door to your room slowly swings open, and you turn to the sound with a look of surprise. Steve looks out from the narrow crack between the doorframe. He smiles at you with his eyes, before he steps out as well. He’s still in his pajamas, sweatpants hanging low on his hips as he tugs on a sweatshirt.

“It’s freezing.” He shivers, making his way to your place by the pool. His eyes are laced with sleep, his hands rubbing at them harshly as he takes a seat in the chair beside you. “Couldn’t fall asleep?”

“No,” You shake your head, staring out at the sky. “You? Seemed like you were sleeping just fine in there. Maybe the couch was better after all.” You say with a lighthearted tone.

It’s the first time you’ve actually held a conversation with him.

Steve feels appreciative.

“You’ve ever been to Michigan?” He asks, clearing his throat as he looks down at his slippers.

“First time, actually. I’ve always wanted to visit.” You nod, chuckling. You play with the drawstring of your hoodie, looking anywhere but Steve.

Maybe now was the time to make amends.

“Y/N?”

“Yes?”

Steve turns his head to look at you. Your eyes are droopy, cheeks pale and lips chapped from the cold. The pool lights illuminate his face, his strong jaw accentuated as the early morning rises. “I’m - I wanna apologize. For... for everything that happened in high school.”

“Look, I’m really tired. I should - I have to-“ You try to walk back inside the room, but Steve blocks you from going anywhere.

You finally lock eyes with him, and it’s like a flip inside you has switched.

King Steve wants to apologize.

“I know that you don’t wanna talk to me. And that - that I’m the last person you’d wanna share a hotel room with.” He holds a hand up before you can interject. “But seriously. I’m so sorry for being that big of an asshole to you.”

“I was really hurt by what you did.” You gulp, running a hand through your hair. “I was humiliated and I felt betrayed because... Steve, I thought you liked me.”

He forgets to breathe.

Because it’s the first time you’ve said his name in ages.

“I did like you.” He states guiltily, hands clutching at his hair with frustration. “I didn’t wanna leave you hanging at the homecoming dance, but - but Nancy.”

“Nancy.” You smile sadly.

“I remember wanting to go, so bad. But my group of friends back then were different. They were ‘cool’ and I wasn’t like them, and I told myself that I would fit in if I did everything that they did.” He explains. He licks his lips, teeth chattering. “So when they told me all about ‘Miss Perfect Nancy Wheeler’... I forgot who I was. And I - I thought that she would be my chance to fit in.”

“At my expense.”

“I was a fucking dumbass, Y/N.” His hand twitches against his thigh, and it’s as if his fingers are reaching out to touch you. “You had me in chemistry, for God’s sake. I was mean and - and stupid.”

“Yeah,” You laugh, before blushing. “Yet I still liked your dumbass.”

Steve’s angry at himself.

All the memories of him hurting you come flooding to his head. He wishes he’d been nicer.

“I don’t get why you’d like someone like that.”

“Hey.” You tug at the sleeve of his sweater, bringing him back to reality. “Don’t wallow in self-pity.”

“I know. I know. Sorry.” He scoffs, glancing down at your hand that was dangerously close to his. “I - I should’ve been a better person to you. Makes me angry.”

Give him a chance. You hear Robin’s words in your head. He’s changed.

“Who said it was too late to start being a better person now?” You pipe up, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

Lovingly, you reach over to place your hand over his.

It’s a gesture without pride, a vulnerable action that almost brings Steve to tears.

Forgiven.

He sniffles, glancing around as he tries to blink away the tears.

“And I think I should apologize, too.” You begin, brushing your thumb over his knuckles. “For not giving you a chance.”

“You’re giving me one now. That’s all that matters to me.” He returns the smile, entangling his fingers with yours.

Steve doesn’t see the anger and the fear in your eyes anymore.

“Why don’t we go back inside?” You let go of his hand carefully, giving him a bashful gaze as you tighten the blanket around your shoulders. “We should get some more sleep.”

He follows you without question. His strides are giddy, and suddenly, Steve feels a weight lifted off of his chest.

He locks the motel door behind him, creeping around to rest on the couch.

“Steve?” You call out to him from the bed - your voice is small, filled with curiosity and hope. Steve looks over the back of the couch, acknowledging you. “The bed is big enough for two people.” You raise the sheets, swinging your legs to lay on the mattress. He raises his eyebrows as you pat the empty space beside you.

“Are you sure?” He asks.

You nod rapidly, looking up at him with soft eyes as he scoots into the bed with you.

“Good night, Harrington.” You mumble into the pillow. “Don’t let the bed bugs bite.”

“Don’t let the bed bugs bite you either, Y/N.” He repeats raspily, closing his eyes as soon as he sees your body still.

King Steve wasn’t so bad after all.

1K notes · View notes

fullmetal-hearrt · 5 years

Text

When I say y’all don’t deserve this boy, you really don’t.

Honestly, burn the stage was supposed to show you all how our idols are also human beings made of flesh and bones but some of you dipshits took it as an open invitation to jab on their insecurities to fit your personal narratives and God knows I want you all to choke so bad.

How can people even think about coming for Jimin is beyond me. How can you come for Jimin as a vocalist when he became the lead vocalist of BTS with the shortest training period and NO prior singing training. He was a dancer, that's all he was when he joined and he didn't get three years of training like everyone else, he got just one year of training and even then he debuted as a main dancer and a lead vocalist, how do you have the audacity to sit in your parents house, spewing hate on the internet about someone who was already an Idol by your age?

Are you not human? Do you not have bad days? Are you satisfied with each and every part of your body? Do you think you're the most perfect person to have ever stepped on this ground? No, right? Then why do you expect the same from a boy who got into this industry when he was merely 17. How dare you call him names and talk shit about his body and ridicule each and every aspect of his existence to the point where y'all drove that boy off twitter? How do you all live knowing that you and your constant criticism and your unreal expectations were the reason he slept on an empty stomach for months?

There will never not be a day where I will not absolutely hate every single one of you who camped under his tweets posting zoomed pictures, telling him how his eyes are wrong. Bitch, It still unsettles me to think how those replies got thousands of likes and he most definitely saw them thus stopped his silent videos and his regular jimin tweets. He used to be the most active member till you all sent him literal death threats when he forgot to write a name on a damn chalkboard and he had to fucking apologize to you bitches.

I can't cope with how much hate some of you have to have in you to try and destroy Jimin. Park Jimin? A man who has done nothing but been an absolute fucking angel to each and every one of your biases. He has loved all the members and you armys with his entire chest and for what? For this?

For you all to make fun of his voice crack in ttu when he was so sick that he was coughing during songs. He could've sat on a damn chair you know. He could've had it easy, he got up on that stage for you all and for what goddamnit? He was sick those nights and you all took to Twitter complaining about how tae should've gotten his lines instead. I can't even put it into words how much y'all get on my nerves. How do you have the sheer audacity to come for him and say that he gets more lines and shit, bitch he is a lead vocalist, he's supposed to get more lines? What's not clicking? The way he got up on that stage even though he wasn't well for you all to just break him down about how he couldn't hit that mf high note that he SLAYS in every performance on the regular but you won't see that, will you?

Some of you "armys" only notice when he messes up. You only talk about his achievements and his records when you are trying to break them. You only care about that boy when you want to bring him down. His existence for you is nothing but a shoulder for your biases to cry on, yeah?

I don't care who you bias as long as you have the decency to not talk shit about a boy who has given you nothing but love and pure dedication and I know you're thinking that kpop isn't that deep but well, when Jimin suffered and ended up in a hospital because of the expectations you all piled up on him, exactly then was when kpop did become that deep.

I don't want any single one of you bitches tweeted about how you miss him when you all sat there in front of your screens watching as thousands mocked him right under his damn tweets for something he can't change about himself. Not everything is a meme you know? Y'all seem to forget that behind your fmvs and your incorrect posts and your fanfics, these are actual human beings with real emotions like you and me. People who feel pain and people who get hurt.

I hate the fact that I'm sat here thinking about the time when Jimin used to post like four times a week because he liked sharing his life with us because at that point Jimin was a member of BTS and not someone you all have your biases compete with and someone who comes in the way of your shipping. I'm sat here thinking about how he never uploads any covers of him singing because of the way you all take every little thing he does and make it so damn ugly. The way he released promise, a song about self love and about being kind to yourself and you all turned it into the ugliest competition for streams that have people spewing mad hate on that boy just cause he outsold your faves. It's not his fucking fault he's a damn legend. Why do you have to put the blame of what you couldn't achieve on someone that has nothing to do with all this shit?

I've said it a million times before and I'll say it a million times again. You all don't deserve Jimin, none of you do. He deserves this whole damn world but this world will never deserve him, never.

" I don't have much talent that's why I practice harder"

"After practice I would just fall on the floor cause I had no strength left in my body, the members would look at me with sympathy"

" At one point I clearly remember that I used to practice more than 18 hours a day"

"Jin hyung asked me to eat but I said, I believe I have to do this and I went on restricting my diet."

" Everytime I thought about resting, I remembered that there are so many people waiting on me to show them something incredible so I couldn't bring myself to rest"

"During BST shooting, I ate one proper meal in more than a week and went ahead with liquid supplements only, I wanted to be one of the more good looking members of the group."

" I fell at the airport cause the rush of the fans was too much but I was actually scared about the fans that fell because of me"

"I'll be a better man and one day a vocalist that you'll be proud to call yours"

"I love armys more than anything. Whenever I thought about my purpose I always thought, they are my reason. They are the reason I get to do what I love. They are my reason to get up everyday and I'll be someone they'll be proud of too"

This is the man some of you "armys" have the heart to hate? Honestly, how much of an asshole should you be to hate on someone like him? Someone who is love and dedication and all things good and pure in his very essence? Sort yourselves out.

792 notes · View notes

onewaigu · 5 years

Text

Memory (pt.2)

Genre : short story

Theme : angst

Pairing : Kanghyun(Onewe) X Reader

Description : time had stopped once you caught his eyes. this was the very first time you guys met in a very long time. were you friends? who knows. you did ruin a perfectly normal friendship with him. Question was, why were your eyes filled with regret when you saw Kang Hyungu in front of you?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

youtube

Smiling with a drink in hand, I can talk about it now.

“That'll be-”, you choked on your own words.

You couldn't believe it. Out of all the people in the world, your first ever customer had to be him. Kang Hyungu. Maybe it wasn't him, maybe your eyes were just playing tricks on you. You tried to convince yourself.

“..free-of-charge?”, he cocked his eyebrow questioningly. He was probably amused at your sudden daze.

You snapped out of it.

“2000 Won please”, you avoided his gaze looking at only the money in his outstretched hand.

Once he took the change you gave him, you let out a deep sigh of relief. An air of awkwardness was clouding your consciousness that you weren't even aware you were holding your breath for quite some time.

Finally, he was about to leave.

Except he didn't though. Instead, he paused right in front of the store's entrance with his hand clutching the door's handle, head bowed.

From your peripheral vision, you stared at him quizzically. Slowly in that short period of time, questions started to flood your head only to be interrupted.

Scoff.

“Did you really think I wouldn't recognise you, Y/N?”

He chuckled but it was different than before. Your heart clenched upon hearing the once familiar sound, now coated with an essence of melancholy.

Time seemed to miraculously slow down. The silence in between was almost deafening. Your heart was pounding against your chest. No.

“And here I thought I'd gotten the wrong person but no, it is you isn't it?”, he humoured sarcastically. Ah, that hurt.

Before you could muster up the courage to reply him, you found his fingers curled around your wrist before gently yet firmly dragging you around the counter and out of the store.

You couldn't care less about leaving the store unsupervised. Besides, there weren't many people around.

Thunk.

The sound of the banana milk bottles hitting the table outside brought you out of your thoughts. “You never changed, huh?”, he asked, a faint glimmer of jest in his eyes.

“Still the same Y/N who loves daydreaming”

Now both of you were facing each other, sitting at the table outside the store. The LED lights behind you were illuminating softly onto Hyungu's face. It made him look like an angel almost. Anyone who saw him at this moment would have described him with one word — ethereal. Your eyes unconsciously wandered around his features. Blond suited him well.

“There you go, again”

“So do you”

“Hm?”

You repeated yourself, “I mean, you changed too”. Specks of red dusted your cheeks.

“We have something in common then”, you caught him lifting the corners of his mouth slightly.

I wanna go back, back, back, back, back.

Fitting. Cause you wanted to go back to how it was before with the banana-haired boy in front of you.

“Hm, nice song”, Hyungu hummed.

“..yeah”, your voice trailed.

“It makes me wanna ask, do you ever wanna go back?”, he asked knowing you knew what he meant by 'going back'.

There it was. The kind smile that you always saw whenever you were with him. With your friend, Hyungu.

He nodded understandingly at your silence, he knew. Of course he would.

“If only he hadn't existed in our lives, huh?”

Both of you knew who he meant. Kim Youngjo.

Seemingly perfect to anyone who knew of him, he was a year above you in school. Raven-coloured hair, alluring dark orbs, pearl-white teeth. Juniors idolised him while seniors wanted to be friends with him.

Everything happened when he crossed paths with you.

Ring!

It was lunchtime but you and Hyungu decided to skip it for the school library instead.

Miss Lee, the school's librarian, had told the both of you that the library was going to be restocked with newly-released manhwas. You guys were manhwa addicts so it wasn't surprising that you wanted to be the first two to grab ahold of them.

A few manhwas in, your eyes were starting to droop involuntaringly. Glancing to your right, you saw Hyungu's black fluff of hair touching the pages of a manhwa he was reading. Idiot fell asleep.

You tried to tug the manhwa from under him so he wouldn't drool all over it but you accidentally tugged too hard Hyungu's head hit the table with a low thud.

Oops.

Someone stiffled a laugh.

Your head shot up to see Kim Youngjo-sunbaenim standing near a bookshelf not to far from a still-sleeping Hyungu, trying hard to hide his laughter.

You smiled gingerly in his direction.

That was the very first interaction.

Spicy food should be dubbed as the devil's food in your honest opinion. It tempted and it tortured people. Too bad, your love for it had blinded any signs of rationality in you. You kept eating it then regretting after.

One day, you had bought spicy tteokbokki for lunch. Normally whenever you were having a spicy food crisis, Hyungu would immediately get you some fruits to cool down the spice.

However, he was on sick leave that day so you were forced to suffer silently in your seat. The spiciness was too much you couldn't even stand up.

Luckily for you, a bottle of banana milk appeared in front of your eyes. You didn't even care who gave it to you, you immediately downed the whole bottle.

Later you found out that it was Youngjo-sunbaenim who had given you the banana milk. Blush creeped up your cheeks out of embarrassment. How kind of him.

After that, both you and Youngjo-oppa kept crossing paths with each other. Every time you did, he'd always give you a bottle of banana milk. You found it cute. Days passed and the two of you slowly got closer each day. People were waiting and expecting you two to date.

Eventually on your birthday, he met you after school with two bottles of banana milk in hand.

“Aw, two for me? Tell me, Youngjo-oppa..do you maybe have a crush on me?”, you nudged his shoulders teasingly.

He scratched his red ears, “Actually Y/N, yeah I do”.

You stopped in your tracks. His blunt honesty caught you off guard. Yeah you always thought he was cute and kind but never did you imagine the two of you being more than friends. It made you curious.

“D-do you maybe wanna be more than friends with me?”, he stammered while he fidgeted with his hands behind his back.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, do you..wanna be my girlfriend?”

For the rest of your school years, you and Youngjo-oppa paraded the hallways as an item. It began with him joining you and Hyungu during lunch. Then he was practically there with the two of you anytime and anywhere. You found it quite endearing..in the past.

Blind love took ahold of you that even when Hyungu would always excuse himself everytime Youngjo-oppa appeared, you didn't even think twice as to why he did it.

The more you were with Youngjo-oppa, the more you were drifting apart from Hyungu. You didn't even notice.

Dating Youngjo-oppa was a thrill. You skipped lessons with him, hanging out under the bleachers. You would sneak out of the apartment at 2 in the morning to go to noraebangs with him. Being with him made you rebellious and you thought that it made you happy.

Until one day, Hyungu approached you after you had avoided him for a few weeks straight.

“Y/N”, he called out.

You tried to avoid him but he was too fast. He then led you under an empty staircase. His face devoid of any humour. “What's happening to you, Y/N?”, he asked looking at your eyes that were avoiding his gaze.

You shrugged him off, “Absolutely nothing's happening to me, Hyungu”.

Just as you were about to leave, he'd caught ahold of your wrist before replying to you in his most gentlest voice, “This isn't funny anymore, Y/N. You know you've changed ever since that guy entered our lives”. He sounded like a defeated puppy.

“That guy is my boyfriend, Hyungu and if you can't accept that then maybe you're much better off without me!”, your voice started to raise, anger boiled in your veins. The nerve of him insulting your boyfriend.

“No I'm not, Y/N..because I care about you”, his voice cracked saying those last words.

“Well, if you cared about me you would understand my feelings”

With that, you just left him alone under the staircase without even daring to look back. Little did you know with slumped shoulders, Hyungu was trying hard not to let his tears fall as your back became smaller in his blurry vision.

From then on, both of you didn't talk to each other even until Hyungu graduated. Unfortunately for you, you had to stay back a year because your grades were failing. So after a few long years of friendship..that was eventually ruined, the two of you were finally not going to see each other everyday.

You always thought to yourself about how stupid you were for trusting Kim Youngjo more than your bestfriend. Now you were alone without a trusted friend or a cheating snake by your side. If you could, you wished to go back to how things were before.

Whoever heard your prayers, you couldn't thank them enough. You had been wondering if fate ever decided to make the two of you cross paths again.

Finally, you were there sipping banana milk with him.

Looking back then, I would've called myself a fool.

[a/n]

this one really took a long time to write heh, anyways here's the angsty part two of Memory ^ ^ Part three's gonna be them talking it out with each other~

enjoy reading and stan Onewe

(video credit : Onewe - Reminisce About All)

#onewe #oneweangst #kanghyun #kang hyunggu #mas0094 #onewefic

6 notes · View notes

vminni · 5 years

Text

When Fate Comes Knocking

Minho had just finished lugging the last box into his new apartment when a knock came at the door. All he wanted to do was flop down on the floor and not move for the next five years, but another knock came, a little more insistent.

“Coming,” Minho mumbled, pushing a hand through his sweaty hair as he threw open the door.

Nothing could have prepared him for the sight on the other side.

“Hello,” the boy standing there smiled sheepishly at Minho, clutching a bath towel around his waist. He wore nothing else and it took everything Minho had to keep his eyes on the stranger’s face and not on his honey gold abs. “I know this is weird, but could I use your shower?”

The boy gestured towards the room across the hall and his grip on the towel slipped, revealing the sharp dip of his hip bone. Minho’s eyes followed its movement, then snapped back up when he realized what he was doing. He blushed deeply, but the stranger didn’t seem to notice.

“I live right there. I went to take a shower and it didn’t work. I called maintenance but they’re closed and won’t be back until Monday, which is so stupid, because things don’t stop breaking just because it’s the weekend. So I’m screwed until then. I was just going to live in my filth but then I remembered seeing you carrying stuff in earlier and thought, hey, I have a neighbor now, maybe he’ll let me use his shower.”

Minho stepped back from the door and nodded, “Um, yeah, sure. Go ahead.”

“Thanks! I’m Jisung, by the way.”

“Minho.”

Jisung came inside and Minho shut the door, then pushed a few boxes out of the way and gestured towards the bathroom, “Nothing’s unpacked yet, but there’s shampoo and body wash and stuff in the box on the toilet. Feel free to use whatever you want.”

Jisung thanked him once again, then disappeared into the bathroom, leaving Minho alone with a burning face and a fluttering in his stomach. He’d known moving to the city was going to be a big change after the small town he grew up in, and he’d hoped to start dating and messing around, but he wasn’t prepared to have a scantily clad boy in his apartment this soon.

Minho glanced at the bathroom door just as the sound of the shower started up and his blush deepened. He knew it was stupid to be flustered over something so trivial, but there was a very cute, very naked boy currently in his bathroom and Minho wasn’t handling it very well at all.

In an effort to distract himself, he moved to the kitchen and began unpacking some of the boxes he’d stacked there. He didn’t have much, just a few plates, a handful of chopsticks and a couple of old beat up pots and pans that his mom didn’t want anymore. It wasn’t nearly the distraction he was looking for and he returned to the small living room, deciding to move all the boxes out of the middle of the room and push them up against the wall.

He had just finished when the shower went silent and the bathroom door cracked open, revealing a wave of steam and a very damp Jisung.

“Thanks again,” Jisung stepped into the living room, pushing his wet hair off his forehead with one hand and gripping his towel with the other. Minho’s eyes betrayed him, following a water droplet as it made its way slowly down Jisung’s toned stomach. “I know this was a weird start, but I hope we can be friends.”

Minho’s gaze jumped back up to Jisung’s face and he nodded shakily, praying it wasn’t too obvious he’d been checking the other boy out, “Friends, yeah. Great.”

“Your water pressure is awesome, by the way. Way better than at my place. I might have to start showering over here all the time.”

Minho’s face exploded in flames and his breath caught at that statement, but Jisung seemed oblivious of the effect he was having on the other boy.

“Anyway,” Jisung moved towards the door, his steps leaving a trail of wet footprints across the wooden floor, “I probably should go get dressed. If you need help unpacking or anything, you know where I am. Just knock.”

Minho nodded and Jisung gave him a bright smile before he disappeared. As soon as the door closed Minho flopped to the floor, groaning as he stared up at the ceiling. He was screwed. Absolutely screwed.

He’d only been wallowing in his newfound crush for a few seconds when another knock came at the door, “Hey, it’s me again.”

Minho scrambled to his feet, took a deep breath and adjusted his t-shirt before he threw open the door. Jisung looked ever more sheepish this time, still clad in the wet towel and nothing else, “I locked myself out.”

“Oh,” Minho’s eyes jumped from the boy in front of him to the closed door across the hall and then back, “oh.”

Jisung laughed, “Yeah. Oh.”

“Can you get a spare key or something?”

“Only from maintenance, and they’re closed. I have a roommate, but he went to visit some friends and won’t be back until tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Minho stepped aside and Jisung shuffled in again, worrying his bottom lip. “Um, I’ll get you some clothes. You can stay here, I guess. Unless you have somewhere else you can go once you’re dressed.”

Jisung shook his head, “I don’t know anyone else in the building. It’s mostly professionals, not college kids, since it’s pretty far from campus. I tried talking to some of the neighbors when I first moved in and no one wanted anything to do with me. That’s why I was so excited when I noticed you today. I really wanted to be your friend.” Jisung glanced down at his naked torso and let out a humorless laugh, “Then I had to ruin it with an awful first impression.”

“It’s fine,” Minho moved down the hall to the bedroom, Jisung trailing slowly behind him. “You didn’t ruin anything. I’d love to be friends. I don’t know anyone in the city.”

He flicked on the light switch and watched as confusion flirted across Jisung’s face. Minho giggled, then squatted down in front of one of the many bundles that littered the floor.

“This is how I store my clothes,” he pushed a red bundle towards Jisung. “Shirts are in the red ones. Athletic pants are in black and sweatshirts are in gray, if you want one.”

He undid a yellow bundle and pulled out a new pair of boxers, tossing them to Jisung. The other boy caught them and Minho rocked back on his heels, then stood, “I’ll go in the living room so you can change.”

Minho exited, willing his brain not to go into overdrive as he pulled the door shut behind him. Jisung was his neighbor and he was nice and he wanted to be friends. Friends. Minho could do that. Minho could be friends with him. Yes, he was very attracted to Jisung, but he could handle being friends. He could be cool.

Then Minho’s bedroom door opened and Jisung stepped out and Minho was definitely not cool.

How was it possible that Jisung was even more attractive with clothes on?

He’d had settled on Minho’s favorite pair of Adidas track pants, which were tight on his own thighs, but hung loosely on Jisung’s slim legs. He’d paired them with an oversized white tank top and a zip up gray hoodie, which was hanging off one shoulder and revealing Jisung’s leanly muscled arm.

“Thanks again, for everything,” Jisung lifted his towel and ran it over his wet hair a few times, before he slipped into the bathroom and returned without it. He ran a hand through his hair instead, then tugged up the hood of Minho’s sweatshirt. “I’m sorry I’m such a nuisance. My roommate will probably bake you cookies or something once he comes home and finds out how much I terrorized you on your first day here, so at least there’s that to look forward to.”

“I don’t mind helping you.” Minho glanced around his empty apartment, “Sorry I don’t have any furniture yet.”

“It’s okay,” Jisung sat down on the floor, hugging his knees to his chest as he looked up at Minho. “So, why’d you move here?”

Minho sat down across from him and mirrored his position, resting his chin on his knees, “For a job. I’m a dancer.”

Jisung wiggled his eyebrows, “Oh, a sexy dancer?”

“Sexy dancer?”

“Yeah, like at a strip club.”

Minho’s cheeks flamed, “No. I’m going to be working with a choreographer who needs dancers for the videos he makes for clients.”

“Sorry,” now Jisung was blushing. “You’re just really hot, so when you said dancer that’s where my mind went.”

“I’m hot?” Minho blinked, lifting his chin from his knees to properly look at Jisung. “You think so?”

Jisung wouldn’t meet his gaze, but he nodded in affirmation as he picked at the thread on the pants he was wearing. Then, after a few beats of silence, he softly chastised himself, “Way to be even weirder, Jisung.”

“It’s okay,” Minho’s smile must have been obvious on his voice, because Jisung glanced up. Minho smiled even wider, then dropped his gaze to his wiggling toes. “More than okay. I think you’re hot too.”

Jisung gasped and Minho’s eyes shot up, locking on the other boy’s. Jisung was staring at him, looking way too thrilled, “You think I’m hot? You think I’m hot! Oh my god, I knew this day would come. I knew it! And of course no one was here to witness it. They’ll never believe me.”

“What?”

“My friends,” Jisung stretched his legs out in front of him, nuding Minho’s foot with his own. “Whenever I say I’m hot they laugh at me. They think I’m cute and that I’ll never be anything but cute. But I tell them, I tell them everytime, that someone out there has to agree with me. And here you are! They’ll never believe me though. Even if you meet them and tell them you think I’m hot, they’ll probably say I paid you. Especially since you look like that. They’d never believe it.”

“Look like what?” Minho furrowed his brow, glancing down at himself. Did he look like a liar?

“Ridiculously gorgeous and out of my league.”

Minho let out a pleased giggle before he could stop himself, burying flushed face in his knees as he continued to laugh.

Jisung crawled over to him, poking his shoulder a few times, “I’m sorry. Did I break you?”

Minho lifted his face after a few seconds, then hid it again when he saw how close Jisung was, “I’m from a really small town. Super conservative. I’ve never been complimented by a guy before.”

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Minho felt Jisung shift away and he raised his head, quickly shaking it, “That’s not what I meant. I’m not uncomfortable.” Minho took a deep breath, then said what he’d never been able to say out loud before, “I like boys. That’s another big reason why I moved here. I don’t want to hide anymore. I want to fall in love.”

“I know all the best bars and clubs,” Jisung’s voice was eager. “We’ll find you a man, I promise.”

Minho had only known Jisung for twenty minutes and knew it was absolutely ridiculous, but his stupid mouth didn’t listen to his brain, “What about you?”

“Me?” Jisung blinked, clearly confused. “Find me a man too?”

“No,” Minho wanted to die. “I meant what about you. For my man.”

“Oh.”

“Now I’m the one being weird,” Minho scrambled to his feet, ready to disappear into the bedroom and suffocate himself under a pile of bundles. “Please erase the last few minutes from your memory.”

“Wait!” Jisung latched himself onto Minho’s ankle before he could run away. “I don’t know if you’re just projecting on me, since I’m the first guy you’ve ever been open with, or if you genuinely want to be with me, but I’m down to go on a date and figure it out.”

Minho bit down on his bottom lip, hard, willing himself not to smile until he made sure Jisung was really okay with it, “Are you sure? You don’t have to do anything just because I’m pathetic.”

“You aren’t pathetic, and yes, I’m sure.” Jisung tugged on the leg of Minho’s pants, “Come back down here.”

Minho plopped on the ground, legs crossed, and Jisung settled his head in the space they made, directing Minho’s fingers to his damp hair. Minho hesitated and Jisung smiled up at him, soft and fond, “You can touch me. Don’t worry about messing up or doing something wrong. I’m not going to judge your dating skills.”

Minho stayed still for a few more seconds, then very slowly began carding his fingers through Jisung’s hair. The other boy let out a small noise of contentment, his eyes drifting shut. A wave of emotion crashed over Minho, so strong that he had to screw his own eyes shut. This was all he’d ever wanted. All those years he spent at home, hiding his true self, all he ever wanted was someone to touch, someone to cherish.

And maybe he and Jisung would crash and burn after one date. Maybe they’d last a few weeks, a few months, maybe even a few years. Maybe they’d fall in love and live happily ever after.

But for now, it didn’t matter.

Back home, Minho had spent so much time thinking about the future, about a time when he’d be free.

It was here, the future he’d always dreamed about. Here in the present and Minho wasn’t going to waste a second of it thinking about what could be.

He was just going to enjoy the now.

#minsung #han jisung #lee know #forgot to post this one on here last night

83 notes · View notes

jamespottervevo · 6 years

Text

painted red (to fit right in) 1/3

James Potter is Spider-Man, and no one gave him an instruction manual.

He really could have used that manual.

Spiderman!AU | no movie spoilers | 7.k words | ao3

thank you to @frxddi @n0tromulus and @sitienessuficientecoraje for beta reading!

(if you showed any above average interest in this fic [yes I read tags bc I crave validation], I’m going to tag you here- @elanev91 @magic-girl-in-a-muggle-world @frustratedpoetwrites @cornerforward13 @padfootdidit)

CHAPTER 1: i feel it in my bones

----------------------

James Potter came to in handcuffs. Again. Sirius kept a tally, for some asinine reason, of all the times he woke up handcuffed. Specifically in public. Not that he made a habit of being handcuffed in private either, that would make things a bit awkward around the house, paper thin walls and all that. He would never be able to look his mum in the eye if she walked in on him in cuffs, or the suit for that matter. He really didn’t want her to walk in on him in the suit. Not because he didn’t like it! He looked pretty sick in red after all. It was just- James took a breath, blinked once, then twice, then tried desperately to ignore the ache that had found a home at the base of his skull.

He was in the back of a squad car and for some inexplicable reason, no one had thought to try and peel off his mask. James supposed that, in the officers’ defense, the seam was really hard to find sometimes. But, on the other hand, what was with the police in New York? Had they even been trained or had they just been given a gun and told to shoot brown people?- something very fucking unfortunate for James.

He looked back down at the cuffs on his wrist, jangling them a bit to see if by some miracle the cops had forgotten to actually lock the damn things, but no dice; maybe they had been trained after all. At least they’d been so kind as to cuff him in the front. He could work with that. His eyes flicked toward the rear view mirror and he watched as a few officers milled about, surveying the scene, chatting loudly, kicking garbage, generally being vaguely scummy in a sort of indistinct way. He grit his teeth and cracked his neck, bouncing just a bit in the seat to garner up some sort of energy, to shake off the fucking jackhammering going on in his skull.

He twisted in the seat, as subtle as he could manage before kicking at the door, hard, and knocking it open. (It occurred to James later that he could have just used the handle.) Okay, so maybe he really needed to work on that whole “not alerting every cop in the area to his escape” thing, but he was like, sixty percent sure he might have had a concussion. He couldn’t be blamed for the stupid things he did while most likely concussed, but he knew for a fact that Sirius wouldn’t let him live it down once the video footage broke.

But right,- cops, staring at him and yelling, hands drifting to weapons. James took another deep breath and pretended his head wasn’t a few seconds off from exploding before he began running, feet hard and fast hitting the pavement. He couldn’t see, sensory overload the helpful little voice in his head supplied as he jumped over a fire hydrant, down the sidewalk, sirens starting to blare behind him again. Everything was too much. Too much light, too many colors, too much movement. He picked up on it all and felt like he might throw up his Cheerios. He really shouldn’t have had that second glass of chocolate milk either.

“Come on, come on,” James mumbled, eyes dating; he just had to find a building tall enough… He grinned as he turned the corner, all but smacking right into a beautiful skyscraper. Okay, maybe it was a little ugly but it was absolutely perfect. He glanced over his shoulder, the police turning the corner. James flicked his wrist, and offered the police officers a wave as the web shot from his hand and plastered itself to the wall up ahead.

“Well, officers, it’s been a ple-” He cut off as the force of the web retracting finally grabbed him, yanking him off toward the wall at a speed that was definitely not safe for the concussion he definitely had or the breakfast he was definitely going to throw up. He’d never thrown up in the mask and he absolutely refused for that first to happen while being chased by a few very angry cops while handcuffed.

Webslinging? Much harder while handcuffed he might add.

But cuffed or not, the feeling still opened up some part of him. Like...magic. Everytime he was in the air, James felt more alive than he thought should be allowed. Like every breath he’d ever held suddenly rushed out of him, no weight to burden him. Nothing had ever made him feel quite so real. It was as close to flying anyone could ever get, he reasoned.

Well. Flying with a little more thought, he amended, as he shot another web, twisted his body to avoid slamming head first into a billboard. Something about lotion. Or maybe yogurt. He hadn’t been able to get a clear picture while hurtling past at breakneck speed. But it had looked like Jamie Lee Curtis, so probably yogurt.

While yes, being in the air, grabbing buildings and flagpoles and billboards to swing and throw himself farther and farther away from the cops was nice (breathtaking, spectacular, fucking fun), it didn’t exactly stop his head from threatening to explode. Had the sun always been that fucking bright? When the sirens started to fade out into nothingness behind him, James began trying to find his alleyway.

Despite what the papers said about him, he didn’t think he was a “public menace” at all! Sure, maybe he still hadn’t quite got a hang of the whole “hero” thing yet, but it’s not like anyone ever gave him a manual. Couldn’t just google “am I a spider?” or “how to be a superhero?” - though, he did think there was a wikifact article on that one actually- or even “how to look good in spandex?” And yes, maybe he’d tried to google that one.

But.

Just because knew he couldn’t truthfully be labeled a public menace, it didn’t necessarily mean people, you know. Agreed with him. So landing in the street? Not a good plan. Besides, all of his belongings were stashed away behind a dumpster and a cleverly placed board in the alley behind the Indian grocery near home. It took a few more swings before he caught sight of the familiar signs and swung himself down into the alley. His nose scrunched. Oh god. He’d forgotten it was garbage day. But beggars couldn’t be choosers, he supposed as his feet hit the ground. He stumbled, having momentarily forgotten that he had definite brain damage and also was handcuffed and probably could taste color thanks to the overstimulation.

James gave his surroundings a cursory glance- he had to be quick about this- before yanking his wrists apart, hard, splitting the cuffs with a satisfying CRACK! Fucking hurt though. And now he just had two locked on bracelets. And still had his suit on. And-

His phone was going off.

James’ train of thought slowed as he heard the blaring saxophone riff of “Careless Whisper” increasing in volume from inside his suit. Fuck. Shit. Fuck. His alarm. Throwing another glance around the alleyway first, James ripped off his mask, hair standing straight up and undoubtedly looking like a rats nest. George fucking Michael was going to get him caught in a skeevy alleyway, half dressed, in handcuffs. Is this what his life had come to? Goddamnit. He hoped his mom didn’t put all that information in his obituary after she definitely murdered him for galavanting about as a superhero without her permission.

After a bit more fumbling, he managed to unzip his suit and shove his hand into it, silencing his “hey dumbass it’s time for school” alarm. Because he was a dumbass who was definitely going to be late for school. James looked around hopelessly, as if he could find a magical key somewhere in the alley that would let him get the fucking cuffs off.

What a sight he bet he was- half dressed in his Spider-Man suit, squinting without his glasses, wobbling from the concussion. James paused, and reached out to steady himself by throwing a hand onto the wall.

His (wildly out of focused) eyes landed on a mostly distinguishable blur. Huh. So, maybe it wasn’t a key, but a pipe should work, right? Without much thought (because, as James would admit, he rarely did anything with much thought) he slammed his wrists down onto the pipe as hard as he could.

The metallic clang echoed through the alley and he had to bite back a cry of pain as the reverberations shook through his wrists, but the cuffs snapped off. A couple bruises were nothing new! He’d be fine!

James spent a few more moments fumbling in the alley. Nearly falling headfirst in the dumpster while reaching for his backpack. (He’d learned his lesson and had wrapped the bag in a quadruple layer of plastic grocery sacks to keep the Garbage Reek off of it.) Tripping over his own feet as he stripped out of the suit. Almost tearing a gigantic fucking hole in his t-shirt as he tried to get it on over his head. He was doing great.

Once he was finally changed and his suit was hidden and his backpack was de-plasticed, James glanced down at his phone. Fuck. Fuck. 7:39. He couldn’t exactly websling his way to class and he’d told his parents he was spending the night with Remus so it’s not like he could manage a ride off them. Fuck.

----------------------

james potter to Big Chungus: anyone near devars rn?

sirius black: tf u at devars for at 7 in the morning

sirius black: ik we have ladoo at home unless ur fatass ate all of them

remus lupin: I’m pretty sure that pete ate most of the pack james thought he’d hid in that hollowed out book on his shelf

peter pettigrew: you promised you wouldn’t tell!!!!!!!!!!!!!

james potter: 1) hate all of u.

james potter: 2) not about snacks just need a ride so come get me

remus lupin: be there in five you absolute jackass

remus lupin: but I want some of those chickpea things from the store as payment

remus lupin: the ones with the peanuts with them

james potter: literally said this wasn’t about snacks like two secs ago. Not even in the store

remus lupin: u want a ride? Bc this is about snacks now jim

james potter: ...which size bag do u want

----------------------

The thing was, he’d never meant to be a hero.

He hadn’t purposefully shoved his hand into a creepy spider’s weird science prison containment cage during the field trip to RidCorp. Hadn’t gone out of his way to bend metal pipes in half on accident (that had been a shock to say the least). Hadn’t woken up one morning with the intention of sticking to walls. Door handles. Stairway railing at school. James Potter had been happy! Never wishing he had more or could be more or should be more.

Because he loved his life! He loved his parents and his friends. He played soccer and helped carry the debate team to victory and fucked around in some of his classes! No seventeen year old in their right mind would purposefully go out of their way for that sort of responsibility! He barely remembered to take out the garbage- of course he never meant to become a hero!

He’d also not meant to accidentally save Lily Evans’ life.

But life just had a way of intervening, didn’t it?

----------------------

“You’re staring.”

James jolted slightly, glasses slipped down the bridge of his nose. Sirius made himself comfortable far too close to James’ ear before throwing himself down at their usual lunch table.

He decided not to grace Sirius with a response and instead rubbed his neck, pretended he wasn’t thirteen different types of pathetic. “I was not staring- I mean. No, what? Who would I have even been staring at?” Smooth, Potter, he thought, really fucking smooth. Inconspicuous.

Sirius raised an eyebrow as he swung his backpack from his shoulders and dropped it to the floor with an unceremonious thud. James flinched at the sound. (Concussed, remember? A week later and he was still dealing with headaches) A few people glanced their way, but it wasn’t as if Sirius seemed to care. Well, James reasoned, he probably had done it for the attention in the first place. James adjusted his glasses, concentrated quite fiercely at a place on the wall, poked at his food with little intention of actually eating.

Sirius snorted. “So you mean to tell me that you weren’t staring at Evans then?” The lilt to his voice made it very apparent that yes, Sirius knew that he’d been staring at Evans and was now being the world’s largest dick about the fact.

Before James could continue his scathing silent treatment, Remus sank into his customary seat. “Oh, no, James was definitely staring at Lily,” he provided. Traitor.

James pulled his phone out from his pocket and finally tore his gaze away from the very intriguing concrete wall and tapped out a message.

james potter to remus lupin: et tu brute

He set down his phone with a huff. “I was not fucking staring at Evans,” he lied. Poorly. Because as he spoke, his gaze shifted back toward her direction. James only vaguely registered Remus’s scoff at the text message because…

God.

Lily E. Evans (so he may have glanced at her student ID. Once… Okay, four times) happened to be the singularly most beautiful person he’d ever met. Fuck, that he’d ever seen. And that included Kim Possible, who he may or may not have had a fat crush on as a kid. (He had a type, okay? The guys never ceased to give him shit over that, but resolutely, James refused to be shamed for the level of self awareness he was positive people would be plenty jealous to achieve.) Evans blew everyone else out of the water.

He loved her hair- thick and red with impossibly good looking bangs. (James melted whenever she pulled it into a ponytail and had managed to fucking fail gym class freshman year because he was distracted. Over a ponytail. Gym class! He was a student athlete!) Her eyes that he could have composed sonnets about if he knew how to do that sort of thing. Her dimples. Freckles. The stubbornness written into her chin, her jaw. Her eyes. Her eyes. Her eyes.

Then there was the way she laughed and flipped her hair over her shoulder and only ever used purple InkJoy pens. The fact she laced her boots to the very top and tucked in the excess. How when she seemed anxious, she’d put on cherry lip balm like a nervous tick. The way she always knew the answers to anything Slughorn asked before James could even comprehend the question. How she gave tours to all the new students and never faked a smile. God. Then there was her smile. He’d thought a lot about her smile. How to make her smile at him instead of scowl. Huff. Frown.

Evans was...was an angel. A goddess. A-

“You’re literally about to start drooling.” Peter snapped James from his reverie. The tater tot that hit him in the face shortly after helped as well.

James snatched the weaponized tot off the table and popped it into his mouth. “No I wasn’t,” he lied once again, this time around the food in his mouth. He swallowed. Stole another one of Pete’s tater tots. When had he sat down anyway? Had he been that enthralled in Evans-land (again)?

Unable to help himself, James took one last glance in Evans’ direction before the undoubtable barrage of soggy potatoes could commence.

Her head was thrown back as she laughed, a featherlight hand on Snape’s shoulder. His stomach clenched.

Evans was a pipe dream.

----------------------

sirius black to peter pronounced venti wrong three separate times in the starbucks line: take bets, is minnie gonna let us pick our groups for this project

peter pettigrew: i hadn’t slept in 40 hours! Bc you made me stay up! Watching every fucking fast and furious movie

peter pettigrew: and then made me give analysis after each one

peter pettigrew: and keep a comprehensive ranking of them

remus lupin: pete did you drink three venti coffees????????

sirius black: he got thru one before he said “his heart was going to burst”

james potter: jesus christ dude

james potter: but tokyo drift is obviously the best

remus lupin: isn’t gal gadot in some of those?

remus lupin: my mother keeps telling me to find a nice jewish girl think she’d be okay with this?

sirius black: jim ur opinions are trash, pete ur coffee habits are wack, remus I keep telling u we’re soulmates god. Now FOCUS.

sirius black: groups. for. project.

remus lupin: dude of course she’s not letting us work together

james potter: yeah do u like...not remember what happened last time

remus lupin: pete still can’t eat spaghetti

peter pettigrew changed chat name to PTSD (post traumatic spaghetti disorder)

----------------------

He died. That had to be what had happened, right? Maybe all the brain trauma he’d been hiding from his parents had finally caught up to him. What movie was it where everything turned out to have all been a dream? Because that was another likely situation. Really, anything felt more plausible than McGonagall- Minnie, his guardian-fucking-angel, a saint on Earth- pairing him with Lily E. Evans for the history project.

James did a great job pretending he hadn’t seen the less-than-thrilled look on Evans’ face when the pairing was announced. Because he was living. The project meant he’d have an excuse to talk to her without coming across as a creep. That he’d be able to spend time with her outside of school.

Pathetic? Oh, definitely. But James couldn’t make himself care because Evans’ number was written in purple ink, tidy little numbers, on the back of his hand. He may or may not have memorized it before class had even ended. So yeah. Pathetic. Happily, happily pathetic.

James kept looking down at his phone.

lily (love of my life) evans: meet me at the nat. history museum by on the front steps?

lily (love of my life) evans: 5:30 okay?

James knew without a doubt that if Evans had asked him to show up at four in the morning and wait all day, he would have without question. So 5:30? No problem. It gave him a little extra time for his patrols too! (Admittedly, he was the only one keeping track of his patrols, but it wasn’t like he should sit by and do nothing, not with the powers he’d been given. Right? Right.)

James couldn’t wipe the grin off his face, not even when he ducked into the closest abandoned alley to change. This time, he’d managed the foresight to wear most of his suit on under his school clothes, save for the mask and gloves. He was learning, thank you very much.

He could only imagine what he looked like, swinging from building to building while still wearing his backpack. (A text from Sirius informed him that he “looked like a whole ass fucking weeb.”)

Swinging from one building to the next, just listening, focusing, he let his senses kick into overdrive to pick up anything unusual. Since the bite, the world had grown too loud, too much, at times. James learned how to turn it off, eventually, but it took him time. Days of headaches and nausea and blurry vision, days when he could suddenly see the flecks of dry skin on Pete’s cheek from across the room. When he could smell Evans’ perfume tables away in Minnie’s class and he nearly fainted. It definitely took time. But he liked to think he’d gotten better at it all. At trying to be a hero, using his powers.

He hadn’t...done much, admittedly. He’d helped that one woman get back into her car; he’d climbed up onto the roof to grab a basketball for some kids. Oh, he’d gotten back a stolen bike, chased down a purse snatcher. Pulled a kid from the street to avoid a jackass on a motorcycle. Small things. Good things, but small things. He’d only been at this for a few months- just long enough for the police to hate him on sight and the Daily Prophet to label him a menace just because he may have accidentally done some light property damage. Maybe.

But doing nothing? Now that felt like a waste. James swung up onto the edge of a roof, plopped down to make himself comfortable, and tugged off his mask. He gulped down fresh air and tilted his head back, letting the wind rush over his face. The building was too tall for anyone to be able to make out his face from down below, or at least he hoped that was the case.

After a little more fumbling, James pulled his phone from his suit and began tapping at the screen while still wearing his gloves. Of course, that didn’t fucking work because it never worked. He huffed and yanked a glove off with his mouth, his other hand pressed against the ledge for balance. He could just imagine his obituary if he fell.

“James Potter was beloved by everyone except his mother who he’s going to send into an early grave because of his shenanigans. He looked like a fool and at the very least could have worn a jacket. He fell off the building because he never ate his ratha poriyal because his brother told him it would make him turn into a Chupacabra. It’s a miracle they didn’t fall off the roof together. He leaves behind a messy room and an angry cat who has begun peeing everywhere in retaliation. In lieu of flowers, send a cleaning crew.”

So he held onto the ledge.

Evans hadn’t texted yet, which meant he still had a little longer to kill before showing up at the museum like a lovestruck fool. James took a few minutes to absently scroll through Twitter, check his email, stockpile a few memes for the guys later. He snapped off a selfie, angling it just right before sending it to the groupchat, just to flex.

----------------------

Casual. Casual. He could do casual. He could definitely do casual. Casual? Not an issue. James Potter was smooth as fuck. He kept his focus on the soccer ball in his hands as he stared up at the stucco ceiling. He tossed the ball in the air, caught it, repeated. Toss. Catch. Toss. Catch.

“So,” he began, fighting the waver in his voice. These were his best friends. They’d understand. Right? They’d believe him. “You guys heard about Spider-Man?” Saying it out loud felt like coughing up dust.

Sirius glanced over from his nest in the beanbag chair, raised an eyebrow, shifted slightly. Remus made a soft, disgruntled sort of sound as Sirius moved and made a bit of a show of adjusting his legs across his lap, draped from where he sat in James’ desk chair.

“You mean the dude that’s been running around in pajamas?” Remus asked, scowled down at Sirius who had simply started wiggling in the seat. Ever the help, Pete began tossing licorice bites across the room to Sirius to further egg on his wiggles. Well. Maybe hinderance, based on Remus’s look as he bapped Sirius on the head with his novel before looking over at James. Sirius caught a bit of licorice in his mouth and he and Pete threw their arms up in triumphant glee. “I’ve seen him on the news some, yeah.”

The ball was in midair as he began to sputter, sitting up. “He does not wear pajamas!” Without sparing a glance, James stuck his hand out and caught the soccer ball in his open palm. Remus looked mildly impressed. Mildly. High praise, really.

Peter chewed on a piece his of licorice. “No, I agree with Remus. He’s definitely wearing pajamas,” he mumbled around his candy after taking his time to come to that conclusion. A conclusion James had hoped would be rational and obvious because of course Spider-Man didn’t look like he was wearing pajamas.

Sirius snorted, tapping away at his phone. “You’re just agreeing with Remus because he’s smart,” he deadpanned, gaze unwavering. Instagram, if James had to guess. But!

“So you agree with me then, right? He’s clearly not wearing pajamas!” James exclaimed, relief almost obvious in his tone. He set the soccer ball down. Uh. Fuck. Okay. His hand was stuck. He casually just...left it there. On top the soccer ball. Like anyone would do.

Sirius let out another snort. This time his eyes wandered over the edge of his phone to land on a perfectly, totally chill, super normal James who just happened to like resting his hand on a soccer ball. “What? Fuck no, of course it looks like he’s in pajamas.”

“But-”

“Remus is smart, not wrong.”

James was melting. God. Okay. Just be calm. Don’t make things weird. Take it eas- “I’m Spider-Man!” He shouted, cut himself off when he remembered they were in his bedroom and his parents were home and he didn’t need the wrath of Euphemia Potter at six o’clock on a Tuesday. “I’m Spider-Man.” He repeated, a little quieter, a little calmer.

This time, it was Remus who broke the silence first. With a surprised yelp of laughter. He set down his book and looked at James, nose wrinkled in amusement. It made him look younger, James realized, the nose thing. “Dude, c’mon. You’re telling me that you, James Fleamont-”

“God don’t remind me-”

“- Potter are Spider-Man,” Remus finished, the corners of his lips tugged up into a cheeky grin.

James suddenly felt, oh what was the word? Re-fucking-gret.

“Do you not remember freshman year gym with Hooch? Because,” Sirius started, “I do. You fell from the top of the rope climb and smacked your bigass head onto the gym floor. You threw up. We all watched you throw up.”

James could have done without the fucking laughter in his tone. Brother who? No. He was an only child from there on out. “Okay that was only because I saw Evans do this thi-”

“You also fell down the stairs last month, like, all of the stairs,” Peter chimed in because of course! Clearly it was mock-James-during-his-big-dramatic-alter-ego-reveal-moment-time! “A lot of people saw that too,” he added with clearly careful thought, fucking reminiscing about James falling headfirst down the stairs. As if he didn’t have enough brain damage already.

He couldn’t take it anymore. Without thinking (wow, he had a habit of not thinking) James flicked his wrist and shot out a web, snatching Sirius’s phone from his hand.

The room went very...very quiet. The trio turned to look at him, faces blank, as if their reactions were buffering and then Sirius opened his mouth-

“What the FUCK.”

----------------------

peter pettigrew to SPIDERJAMES??????????????????????: okay so can u lay eggs

james potter: dude wtf no??????

sirius black: okay r u sure tho? Like have u really tried to lay an egg?

james potter: why. the fuck would i try to lay an egg??

peter pettigrew: science

james potter: I don’t lay eggs.

remus lupin: what happens when you masturbate

james potter: I do NOT want to answer that

sirius black: yknow, also p invested in jim not answering that

peter pettigrew: ………morbidly curious

remus lupin: it’s just as valid as asking about eggs.

james potter: I regret telling all of you anything ever in my life

james potter left the chat

remus lupin changed chat name to spidersemen? is it a thing.

sirius black: im so uncomfortable

remus lupin: good. hard questions should make you uncomfortable

peter pettigrew: ha! Hard.

sirius black: u were so pure before we were friends

remus lupin: you don’t know my life.

----------------------

James shifted on the roof, slipped his phone back into his suit. 5:06. He had exactly 24 minutes to get get to the museum, change, and make himself look perfectly loveable to be just on time to meet Evans. Right. Super duper reasonable! He swung his legs around from the edge of the roof, moving back onto solid ground and grabbing his backpack in one fluid motion. The museum was...James squinted, used his finger to point as he counted, six blocks away. He could totally handle that in 24 minutes.

Wait. Mask. Right. He bent down to swipe his mask off the roof ledge when his body went cold. His muscles tightened, the hair on the back of his neck standing up as a creeping feeling rolled up his spine. He could hear see smell taste everything oh god there was a baby crying down the street- pizza- cat being chased- woman yelling on the phone- trashcan.spiderwebonthefireescape.taxisnearlycolliding.tacotruckemptyinggrease-Hey Get Out Of Her- No I Didn’t Tell Him Ab- I Love You Have A Good D- Yeah I Got The Shit It’s-

James let out a sharp gasp and broke focus, his hand curled tight around his mask. It happened, sometimes, an overload like that. The kind that made every nerve in his body go into hyper-super-what-the-fuck sensitive mode. He felt it, all the time, really. Walking down the street. When he answered the front door. When he saw the police. He didn’t have to have the suit for that. He once tried to explain it as anxiety dialed up to fifty, when there was danger, his body reacted. Like an allergy.

Without a doubt, that spider-sense never led to anything good, especially not when the feeling came across that violently. And in that moment, all James could hear, smell, think was “Yeah, I got the shit. It’s pretty low quality, you sure this is what he wanted?”

James yanked his mask on, took a deep breath. Focused.

“Yeah, I got the shit. It’s pretty low quality, you sure this is what he wanted?”

He started to run and without hesitation, threw himself off the roof, arms spread, a nose dive. A leap of faith that he wasn’t about to do something incredibly stupid. Focus. James shot out a weh on instinct, catching a fire escape and throwing himself higher, faster.

“Yeah, I got the shit. It’s pretty low quality, you sure this is what he wanted?”

Close. James was close. His body felt tense, on edge. He swung around a building and nodded at the wide-eyed woman in the passing window, waved. He heard the slam of a car door. A van. An alley.

“Yeah, I got the shit. It’s pretty low quality, you sure this is what he wanted?”

He landed with a loud, metallic thunk, a creak as the fire escape settled under his weight. James winced, scrunched his eyes shut, said a little prayer that the men didn’t hear him. He quickly ducked behind a comically small potted plant and prayed that would be enough.

Slowly, James peered around the plant, nudging one of the leaves out of the- weed. He was hiding behind a cutesy terra cotta pot of weed on someone’s fire escape. Okay then. He stored that information away for later and took everything in.

A nondescript black van sat parked in the alley, one of the back hatch doors swung open. James could just barely make out a few cardboard boxes stacked in the back. Two men stood to the side, backs turned to James’ hiding place. One in a hoodie, a cigarette in one pale hand. One in a button up shirt tucked into dress pants.

“How much more is he gonna need?” Hoodie asked. His voice hadn’t seemed to have dropped. Young sounding. James scooted a little closer, pushing the plant for cover and immediately regretted the action as the pot scraped across the metal grating. Loudly. Whoopsie.

He studied Hoodie, nose scrunched as he wondered why a teenager wou- oh. If that was a teenage dude’s ass, he was definitely going to have to reevaluate some things later. People did always think that Sirius was his boyfriend which like, gross? They were practically related and he’d seen Sirius’s dental hygiene habits up close and he did not want to get personal. If he’d date any of his friends, obviously it would be Remus. Was that even a question? Actually, Pete would be rather supportive no matter what.

James frowned. He did have a bit of an obsession with George Michael- He paused the steamrolling thoughts and just...filed that crisis away for later.

Button Up shifted, folded his arms over his chest. “Unsure. The experiments have been going as we’d hoped, but it’s not even close to passing under FDA regulations.” Button Up sighed and pulled a bulky looking phone out of his back pocket. James squinted. Was that a flip phone? Who the fuck still used a flip phone?

Button Up held a finger up to Hoodie and brought the phone up to his ear. The three waited, James with baited breath, Hoodie with restless posture and puffs of smoke, Button Up with a perfectly blank face.

Hoodie moved her weight from one foot to the other and pulled her hand from her pockets. She pushed the hood of her sweatshirt off, revealing a mess of dark, curly hair. She took a drag off her cigarette. Exhaled. “Look, I’m in a hurry here. Your boss has my number if he needs anymore, but he’s gotta remember that my supplier takes his time with this. I won’t be able to pull this much out of my ass again.” Hoodie spoke around the cigarette in her mouth, blew smoke toward the van.

Button Up didn’t glance in Hoodie’s direction. “Yes. Hello sir! I- yes...no we didn’t run into any issues- Five boxes as ordered, I’ll be...Uh. Yes. I’ll ask.” He snapped his phone shut, cleared his throat. “He wants five more shipments, as well as a few...test subjects. Double the pay if you get it done by the end of the month.” Button Up cleared his throat, moved as if adjusting a tie.

Hoodie nodded once, then twice, dropped her cigarette butt to the ground and extended her hand. Button Up clasped it in a way so professional, it was almost funny. “He better, or else. Don’t think the boss would like it too much if the Prophet caught wind of this, now would he?” There was confidence in her tone, another shift in her posture. Holding her head up higher. Power, James realized. Whatever this was, the cards were in her hands.

Button Up withdrew his hand and turned away from Hoodie, closing the back door of the van. James’ body thrummed with energy, jittered. They’d not said anything illegal, but he knew better than to doubt his spidey sense. He needed to do...something. Follow one of them or catch one in a web or… Something.

In his moment of internal debate, James had missed Hoodie’s retreat, leaving Button Up to focus on. He turned toward the fire escape as he rubbed his temples and James got a decent look at his face. He felt...a little disappointed honestly. No super badass scars or tattoos, and he wasn’t that good looking. He looked plain, forgettable. Hanging from his shirt was a security badge. James couldn’t quite make out the words, but he recognized the logo.

RidCorp. The pioneer and leader in innovation when it came to new pharmaceuticals and genetics, RidCorp was the public’s darling when it came to the future. Cures for cancer and growing new organs and...James had just watched an employee make a shady deal in an empty alleyway.

He didn’t hesitate. When Button Up turned once again, started to walk toward the driver’s side door, James dropped down from the fire escape with a THUMP. He took a moment to prop a hand on the wall, cross his ankles as he leaned. Button Up swivelled on his heels, fast.

James wiggled the fingers on his free hand. “This looked like a lot of fun. Can I join in? I’m a great conversationalist!” He wished he had a camera to capture the look of absolute “what the fuckery” on Button Up’s face.

“Shit,” Button Up hissed as he leapt into the van and slammed the door shut. Before James had the foresight to memorize the license plate, Button Up was speeding off down the alley. The van made a violent turn into the street and was reasonably met with angry honks and shouts.

James grinned, shot a web, and let the momentum carry him after the van. Button Up hadn’t managed to get very far before James caught sight of him again. He kept up the pace of webswingjump, webswingjump, until he was close enough to land a web onto the top of the van.

Unfortunately, it was impossible to swing from superpowered spiderwebs in a very crowded city, down a very crowded street, without drawing attention.

“Is that Spider-Man?”

“Who’s he chasing?”

“God that costume’s stupid looking!”

That comment was just hurtful, but it wasn’t as if he had time to stop and argue with a random New Yorker. He perched on the roof of the van as Button Up sped down the street, veering in a way that clued James into the fact he was trying to be shaken off.

He stuck himself to the roof with one hand as he bent over, upside down in front of the windshield. “Use the spray,” he shouted, pointed down at the wipers, “I’m sure that’ll help! Usually gets bugs off!” He gave a thumbs up and Button Up slammed on his brakes. The suddenness of the stop dislodged James from the roof and if it weren't for his reflexes kicking in, he’d have flown headfirst into the street. Instead, he fired off a web and swung himself up onto the side of a building, breathing hard.

The van started moving again as James carefully tried to come up with a plan. He’d not expected to get nearly so far. He couldn’t let Button Up get away! Before he could undoubtedly have his brilliant lightbulb moment, police sirens began blaring in the background. Oh fuck.

He looked around, glad for the mask to hide his panic. Sirens. Sirens. Sirens. James tilted his head. A few blocks out still, it sounded, but that didn’t exactly give him much time-

Time. He threw a panicked glance over his shoulder toward the clock hanging off a department store front. 5:26. Evans. James looked back and the van was...gone. Fuck. The police were closer; the van was gone; he couldn’t be arrested again; Evans was going to kill him.

After a moment of deliberation, James started to websling, throwing around his weight as he flung himself up in the air, higher and higher, quicker and quicker, to get to the museum in time. Evans would make that face at him if he was late, the one that made him want to retract into his own body and wither away. Disappointment.

His heart pounded and James could hear it in his ears, breathing fast and hard and his hands were so sweaty. When he finally caught sight of the museum, a wave of relief washed through his body because not only did he see the museum, but a blur of red hair just turning down the sidewalk.

He was going to be on time. Sweaty. But on time. He swung in closer, aiming for the alley around the corner. Evans wasn’t going to hate him. She’d fall in love with him for knowing the names of all the dinosaurs and they’d get married and have the cutest child and- no. no. no. no. no.

James’ body went ice cold.

The scaffolding over the entrance where workers were taking down a metallic spider.

The giant hunk of metal slipping out of place.

Falling. Falling. Falling.

He didn’t think.

He just moved.

It happened faster than even James could comprehend.

The screaming. The warnings. The panic.

A girl looking up too late.

The spider was too big for James to simply push the girl clear of its path. So he shot a web at her waist and pulled her into his chest, curling around her as he threw both hands up to catch the spider as it fell. (Talk about irony.) The weight of it all sent vibrations down his arms and he couldn’t breathe, too high off adrenaline, couldn’t think.

And then… quiet. People stunned into silence around him on the steps, shocked workers up above, the girl no longer screaming in his arms. James gave a grunt and dropped the spider to the side, let his arms drop.

He panted as he looked down and met a pair of green green eyes. Those eyes. Evans stared up at him in wonderment. Relief. Whatever it was, James wanted to savor the moment.

He cleared his throat, stepped away, put his hands on his hips because that’s what superheroes did right? “Alright, E- Miss?” He forced his voice lower. As low as he could make it. Pretended it didn’t crack when he spoke.

Evans blinked up at him, her shoulders shaking. He loved the coat she wore, it matched her eyes- oh god, she’d been talking. “- I...thank you,” Lily finished, hiccuped. James grinned because no one could see.

Admiration. That was the look in her eyes. He didn’t know what to say.

Sirens picked up volume in the background. Cops and an ambulance, James distinguished. Someone in the crowd had probably called 911. Right. The cops definitely still hated him. His feet did not want to move but after a few seconds of internal wrestling- he could just yank his mask off right, show Evans that he wasn’t an entire jackass- James flicked his wrists and fired off a web.

Then he finally spoke “I’m your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man,” he continued trying to sound like Batman, let the web start to pull him away, “that’s what I’m here for!” God. He needed a better catchphrase. But Evans eyes were still on him and she seemed so adoring that he nearly forgot to fire off another web to keep from landing face first in the street.

He had spidey sense, not common sense.

When he wrapped the corner, he could already hear the chatter from the crowd picking up intensity, the sirens halting as the emergency responders arrived at the museum entrance.

The thought hit him as he landed in an alleyway. Evans was going to think he was so late to their meetup.

Fuck.

112 notes · View notes

ausietigerqueen · 7 years

Text

Voltron High School Musical AU (Shance)

Hear me out here

So I was thinking about this and oh boy do I like

So Shiro is Troy Bolton (bc ovbs) and he’s a jock, he’s the best the school has and the whole school adores him bc he’s just so cool

He’s the star of the school and everyone expects him to go on to great things with some kind of basketball scholarship, and his father the coach is right behind him, definitely wants him to go and make it big

Lance is Gabriella (Thornton?). He’s quiet, he’s shy, and he’s in another new school. Every school he enters they find out he’s ‘a genius’ and therefore they treat him differently. Most just are awkward around him or expect him to belittle them for their intellect. Those are the schools that no one bullies him. But he has been bullied. So he comes and he’s nervous. His mother tells him it’ll be fine. They’ll stay until he graduates and once he does he can choose a college and go on. He’s nervous and a little excited. He makes his way to class after he has all his stuff and he smiles at everyone and tries to figure out what to do and he stumbles upon Shiro

They both recognize each other from the party a few weeks before where they were forced on the same stage to sing. Lance sings beautifully and he just does it. Shiro has more trouble being slightly nervous especially since it was a song set for a man and a woman

But they push through and it’s almost like it’s where they meant to be.

But Shiro notices Lance in class and calls the number lance had given him.

It works. And Shiro almost shrieks in happiness.

Out of all the schools, Lance somehow made it to his.

Their phones get taken away and they are forced into detention but Lance and Shiro both stop outside the room to talk and they hit it off again, not really believing their luck.

They spend time together and they slowly start to gain feelings for each other. Lance had been cracking pick up lines since the beginning but they were mostly a tease until later.

Lotor is Sharpay and the reason for this, is bc he is totally sharpey, the hair, the clothes, the attitude - the 'I’m important and you know it’ thing. He’s very rarely kind, but he’s not a horrible person.

But Lotor isn’t mean, he’s a little stuck up, but he’s actually had a crush on Shiro for years and been trying to date him when Lance comes around and Lotor is a little star struck. He asks Lance out but Lance turns him down lightly, telling him he’s sorry but the mans just not his type. He does promise to help Lotor find someone else and also promises to talk to Lotor more.

Ezor plays Ryan, she’s supportive of her brother, almost everything Lotor does unless he goes a little too far and then she tries to midigate the damage. She likes Shiro and Lance a lot and definitely thinks their relationship is cute, but tries to mediate how much she approves bc of how it semi hurts Lotor.

Keith is Chad, because he’s very close to Shiro and they got into sports when Keith became Shiro’s adoptive brother - not that many know that - but he likes Lance and sees what a good fit for each other they are, but he also doesn’t want Shiro to give everything he’s worked for away for well a boyfriend. And honestly Lance sometimes gets on his nerves with his carefree attitude.

Hunk is Zeke, plays for the basketball team, but is absolutely into cooking. He spends most of his free time cooking and baking. He sneaks the treats he makes into people’s lockers as treats and does it constantly for the team. He immediately clicks with Lance and they become best buds. Lance helps him accept that cooking and baking isn’t girly. And that it’s amazing. And so Hunk always puts a bag aside for Lance to have and try of whatever he makes.

Allura is Taylor for sure and Lances best friend. They spend a lot of time together and Lance shows her beauty routines he’d learned from his older sisters. And he helps her do her hair in crazy styles every day. They spend a lot of their time talking theory and science which confuses others a lot

Pidge is obviously Kelsi and she is the composer, very talented and smart, she enjoys it and is passionate about it but she’s also into hacking into things and totally part of the science team with Allura. She enjoys having Lance around bc he helps release tension. He isn’t as tense as the others and just tries to help everyone relax at all times. He’s also super smart and a genius and understands when she goes into wild theories and actually gives her advice and ideas to help her think more.

• Shiro is getting slightly tired of being pushed into basketball and scholarships and all the pressure is getting to him. Until he meets a beautiful boy on vacation. They sing together, and it’s the most free and relaxed Shiro’s felt, in a long time.

• Lance is tired of being bullied. Is tired of being the weird genius kid. He just wants to have some friends, people to lean on like the family they had to leave because of his mother’s job. When he met Shiro he felt at home again. Singing with Shiro, was like singing with his cousins and mother, he was relaxed and he wasn’t weird. And he automatically clicked with Shiro.

• When they start spending time together they start smiling more. And their friends notice.

•Pidge and Allura both find out about Lance’s brains and they both try to get him to enter their scholastic decathlon team.

•When Lance decides to do the audition even though he’s considering the decathlon team, he isn’t thinking about anything but how much he wants to feel the way he had on vacation. And especially with Shiro.

•They get turned down by Coran - he wants to let them audition, but his sense of honor to the theater won’t let him. He leaves and when Pidge falls down Shiro and Lance rush to the stage and help her pick them up. Lance asks if she wrote the original of what Lotor and Ezor sang and she nods asking if they’d like to hear it.

• They’re awed and sing it and get the callback. Which pisses off Lotor. He doesn’t have much, but damn it, he has the musicals and he won’t stand for it.

•Keith is furious. He just doesn’t understand why, and he tries to 'reason’ with Shiro, he doesn’t want him brother throwing away his chance to greatness. His chance to succeed at something they’d worked for together for years.

•Shiro brushes him off. He doesn’t know why he wants to do it. He just knows it always makes him lighter after singing. He always feels happier after his times with Lance.

• When Hunk comes out to the rest of the team as the one who bakes all the treats. And other students come out with their 'secrets’ - Keith and Allura decide they need to make sure their friends keep their minds on what they think is most important. To save them from themselves.

•They set up the camera and wait for Shiro to say what they know they can get him to say. Allura meanwhile talks to Lance - trying to get him to realize that the smart people who have come from science and how stupid jocks are. Pidge is absent from this and any planning.

•When the video comes on, Lance tries not to believe the words slipping from Shiro’s mouth. He truly wishes he could erase them from his memory. But he can’t. Shiro said them. And he lets his insecurities slip in enough to make him believe it all. And it hurts. Allura leaves him to his thoughts, to think about the decathlon. Lance watches Keith and Hunk and Shiro all dancing in the courtyard. Happy and carefree as Lance sits there heartbroken and feeling led on. He decides there to accept it and fake that he doesn’t care either. If he does maybe it won’t hurt as much.

• Shiro is at a loss. He doesn’t know why Lance’s attitude suddenly changes. He can’t play anymore. Nothing works. He’s a mess and he doesn’t know how to fix any of it. Least of all a relationship with Lance when he won’t even talk to him. He tries to get him to talk to him, over and over. But Lance just won’t.

•It’s a couple days before Allura and Keith decide they went to far. They confront Lance and Shiro and tell them the truth of what happened. Lance denies that it’s their fault. Shiro was the only one deciding what he said. Not them.

•Allura went to Pidge and asked for advice and Pidge outright slaps her. “you are almost worse than Lotor. At least he’s only stuck up.” She leaves her and seeks out Lance. She grabs his hand and drags them to Shiro. She grabs his hand and drags them both to Shiro’s rooftop hideout and she sits them both down.

•"You’re both almost adults. Fucking act like it. I know you both adore each other. It’s easy to see everytime you look at each other. Your other friends are assholes who should have supported you, but now they do. But you seriously need to fix this. Otherwise you’ll both lose not only the audition, but basketball, or the decathlon.“

• They talk it out and Lance forgives Shiro. He accepts that in the same situation he’d probably tell them what they wanted to hear.

• Lotor hears them singing together again and is automatically worried. They sound wonderful and it scares him. He and Ezor blackmail Coran to putting the callback day on the same day as the big basketball game and the decathlon day.

•he’s happy with himself but also sad. He likes Lance, he just doesn’t know why he doesn’t like him back. He’s great right? So why doesn’t the pretty boy like him?! He’d try to sneak in small touches to Lance’s hand when they talk. Constantly trying to just be acknowledged by Lance.

•Ezor is sorry for Lotor. She can already tell that Lance and Shiro are meant to be. Even if it hurts Lotor. She can see how cute they are.

•Lotor on some level understands but his jealousy gets the better of him.

•Lance is horrified when Shiro shakes him head and says his idea. They go with it and on the big day they mess around and do little things for each other as they await the time. They win that step of the decathlon and start to make one of the burners go haywire. They all shuffle out as they say they have to clean it up and make it safe before anyone can come back. And they mess with the scoreboards in the gym, causing them to halt play. Shiro rushes to the theater. Almost all the students there following after. Thace stumbles after them wondering what the hell.

• They make it there and Pidge immediately comes back to play for them. Lotor is impressed at her devotion. He finds her adorable in a way he hasn't before.

• Lance sees this and as he promised to find someone for Lotor, he thinks he's found the perfect person, especially to help mellow him out. But he has to get to singing. He takes off his lab coat and throws it to the side as Pidge starts playing.

• Shiro freezes and can't sing after Lance. He immediately has Pidge stop and walks up to Shiro. He tells him just to look at him. Just like the vacation. It's just them on the stage.

• The music starts again and it works. Shiro sings and so does Lance. They dance around the stage more open and happy than their friends have ever seen them.

• Lotor smiles as Pidge jumps up while playing and dances with them. He accepts that they're good. And he's happy that they love the theater too. Ezor notices him smilin at Pidge as she cheers for Lance and Shiro. She makes a note to herself to talk to Lance and see if they can get them together.

• Keith and Allura are shocked at how talented their friends are. They cheer wit everyone else and are so proud. Hunk knew Lance could sing but he's so glad how happy Lance looks after all the bullying he'd been through.

• They finish and everyone applauds as they all zoom back to their things.

• Shiro's team wins - and so does Lance's. They all celebrate.

• Ezor asks Allura out and she says yes.

• Hunk asks Keith out - the boy agrees and then semi freezes. He seeks out Shiro a little freaked and unsure.

• Lance asks Ezor what she thinks about Lotor and Pidge and they start to concoct a plan to get them together.

Lance and Shiro stand together and smile as they kiss and everyone cheers.

Other characters

Iverson - Principal

Ulaz and Thace - Shiro's and Keith's parents

The mice - Allura pets

Kaltenecker - Lance's pet cow. They take her everywhere bc she was a present from his late father.

The lions - will prob come in as pet cats at some point

YELLS OKAY I LOVE THIS MOVIE AND THIS AU NOW

Shiro and Lance are totally Troy and Gabriella, and it's so cute ( I watched it last night to make sure that it was the same and they fit so well HOLYSHIT)

I just adore this now omg

//semi fixed

40 notes · View notes