#anyways i dont know what this is my brain sometimes hits a keyboard and- what the hell did i write | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

onyxoverride · 3 years

Text

“Also??? I am ridiculous. You didn’t had the time to answer my other ramblings about him I AM SO FUCKING SORRY HAHAHAH I just don’t know nowhere else where to go with this shit. So I am just dropping this by you, bc I know your are going to make the most of it and you don’t mind ( or at least I hope so???) Anyways please never feel forced or pressured to answer these because they are just brainrot.

So guys like Twitch Streamer!Zeke huh??? I didn’t plan on add something but some of the other ideas really inspired me so I will extend my thoughts a little lol.

Okay so just imagine, after a few months of playing and streaming with Zeke everyday, he starts to think (he doesn’t do that all the time no no). There are some other Steamers out there who he often plays with and who you Are often playing with. So he starts building a group, you helping him adding members to them. And then you make a twitch streamer house. You all pay a part of it and gather all your Gaming stuff there. Switches, Playstations, computers, everything all over the place. Some even start vlogging and blogging, filming videos to upload them on YouTube. Going out together and eating some from the chat recommended restaurants is now on video too. It blows up like crazy. Zeke didn‘t plan on this to happen, the be honest, he just wanted a reason to move in with you and get to know you in real life, not only through video games and chatting. Of course he likes the other members too but he is found in your room, playing games together and even making music. Because he likes to mess around on the keyboard and with drums and beats a bit. Creates a lofi song from Time to time.

He starts to get cautious and anxious about his feelings because?? What if you liked him better over VR? What if he is not your type? But all of this is blown away as you end the stream one evening a little earlier than he had thought and started to kiss him, finally making a move. And boy is he happy. Immediately takes a little break from the twitch house to get some personal space with you in his or your apartment. While you guys are gone the house starts to get down into real trouble, members are leaving and new members are added without your or Zeke‘s agreement. As soon as you both find this out you leave it be, moving out and moving together.

And the people are lien O.o? Homies dipped for a few days and now are moved together out of the house?? aRE yA TogEThEr? Zeke and you keep it a secret as long as you want it, he doesn’t mind showing everybody that you are his. And deep down Zeke is very happy because...

Well you can’t suck him off under the desk when he is streaming and playing a game when there are other streamers in the same house right? You can‘t keep his cock nice and warm in your cunt when he making another LoFi song, when you are at the streamer house.

Also i want to add another game Zeke is absolutely bawling about: Fall guys. It’s a hate-love relationship between him and this game. He likes the challenge that comes within it but BOY. The other players. PEOPLE STANDING RIGHT INFRONT OF THE GOAL AND NOT LETTING HIM PASS??? Rage quit. Sometimes he will end the stream then and there when he looses and fuck the shit out of you, taking out his frustrations. But as hard as he is pounding you, he is still sweet. He wants you to call him the best one out there, the only gamer who is as good at beating games as filling up this tight pussy.

If anybody is interested yes this idea is a little inspired by the Twitch Streamer House Offline TV I believe? Some names you may know are Fat, Lily Pichu or Pokemane. They are genuinely funny and if you enjoy video games and some good Humor you should check them out (if you got free time lol). Man. I just noticed that my stories this evening are a little bit more soft & shit?? How did that happen? We need to get back to dirty nasty shit. Gimme a few hours and my brain will combine the nasty and filthy shit for y‘all

Also i would like to know if anybody likes Splatoon 2 as much as I do because I have been loosing my shit & time at this game and I low-key think Zeke would play it too but not for too long but is anybody in the same boat as me? Asking for a friend (no for real anybody know Splatoon 2??????) -🍆”

Alright sorry again for taking so long to answer, turns out I can't FUCKING READ IF I DONT TAKE MY MEDS beat me up pls

I do not know Splatoon at all 😭 I am sorry but I may check out that YouTube stuff to think about Streamer Zeke some more... hehe

Streamer Zeke who falls head over heels for you. It's absolutely ridiculous. He's suave enough to become your friend, close enough to start this little house of yours with his other friends like Streamer Porco and Streamer Pieck as well as vlogger Reiner and his little brother who plays games but also films skating video.

You work with him to gather this house together, organizing everything (you requested bean bags and Zeke delivered 10x with giant comfortable bean bags.) Eventually you end up catching on to his feelings for you. No, he never really came onto you. Super respectful of you and your space but he does want to be with you a lot, it's how he shows his love -- with buying you things and quality time. Plus, the blush across his face whenever you playfully flirt with him is priceless. And whenever you dress up nice? He can barely be near you. You look so good he cant help it. Even when you wear sweatpants and pajamas he's simping hard. Hearts in his eyes 24/7. He keeps it on the downlow but sometimes it's so obvious especially when you two stream together he acts different. Biting his lips red and raw and a small strawberry blush settled on his cheeks that only few notice.

Then dual streaming together, (are you streaming in the same room? Is that how it works? Probably not but let's just say it us for now,) he's nervous. He can hide it mostly but then when you two finally fall into a softer more viable atmosphere he can finally breathe and be comfortable with you while streaming. Eventually you're cueing off way earlier than he thought but he goes with it smoothly, turning to ask you what's up before you pull him into a kiss.

He's red. Stuttering out "oh-okay" before you pull him into another long winded kiss, leaning over the arm of his chair to kiss him while he's trying to maneuver his chair to face you and trying to keep his lips on yours. He's pined too long to not have his lips on yours in this very moment. Pulling you to stand between his legs and into one of the most heated and loving make-out sessions. Zeke feels like he's a teen again with you twirling the hair at the back of his neck and him playing with the edge of your shirt nervously.

When you pull away, he pouts. Full lipped pout with a whine sticking in his throat, trying to pull you back to him, and who are you to deny him?

He does sneak into your room to mess with you, even during streams to mess with the little sound board, making stupid little songs while you play. It's cute in a an annoying way, shooing him away with a little fly swatter while he giggles, running out the room.

Eventually, Eren is inviting too many people over, inviting others to join the house without Zekes agreement and as much as he tries to talk sense into him, it's no use. So with this secret relationship of yours, cuddling in your room he asks if you two should move out. He's the eldest so it'd make sense even if the house becomes chaos without him and you don't deserve to he left behind. He knows you find his little brother annoying without even saying anything for his sake. You're getting tired of Armin too, to be honest. Mikasa is nice but paired along with the other two it's impossible to get a good conversation with her.

They aren't even aware of you two moving out before the day comes. All the furniture, gaming consoles, electric piano he likes to play, and more. Including two bean bags that weren't ruined.

I can't get this scenario out of my head but imagine him peeking into your separate gaming room at the new apartment, shirtless and in sweats, strategically staying out of the way of the camera and when you glance at him he's smirking. He's tempting you to end stream and pay attention to him now.

And fuck does it work. Trying to end stream with a little smile on your face while Zeke lean against the doorframe. Thing is you don't exactly hit the right button as you get up, leaving the stream playing while you pull him into the room and stumbling onto him whole he leans back onto the couch. Pulling him into a heated kiss with a hand on his throat, dominating him much more than anybody would ever expect.

It's not like you two ever went explicitly public ever. So the stream is blowing up, skyrocking it to numbers you've never seen before Zeke is patting your back to get your attention. You can barely say anything as you go to really turn of the stream. Muttering a sorry with disheveled hair and clothes and swollen lips to match the actions everyone just caught, both you and Zekes phones blowing up with calls and texts from friends.

"Well..." Zeke sighs and leans back with a bittersweet smile, "now everybody knows..."

You sigh with your smacking against his chest, "I'm sorry, I didn't- that was stupid of me."

He just rubs your back and laughs, "well, that may have worked in our favor. Now we don't have to announce it formally, just respond to the reaction of everybody. Though, they got to see me shirtless and you be all sexy on top of me. I don't appreciate that much..."

Because that's only for his eyes to see, and yours as well. Plus, this will get other streamers to stop flirting with you, so that's an advantage in his eyes. Now you can stream as a couple too if you two wanted. But he does like the keep couple things between just the two of you, a clear divide between his romantic life and his streaming and work life which the both of you two appreciate endlessly. Though... the times when those two mix are fun to say the least.

Sitting underneath his desk while he streams is risky but it has his blood pumping so fucking quick. Cock in your mouth, hallowing your cheeks which makes him want to roll his hips but he has to resist. The blush on his face is already suspicious and the moments he pauses or groans only can happen so often before people make jokes about someone being under the desk. But both of you manage, him cumming as quietly as he can into your mouth with the volume of the game turned high. You keep suckling a bit until he's nudging you off his cock while his works his spit covers cock back into his pants, continuing stream for another hour before ending and letting you finally get out from under the desk.

He'll support you from under the desk too but you're much better at keeping your composure for some reason and it pisses him off. Tongue lapping messily at your folds while your thighs are thrown over his shoulders as you stream. After it ends without you orgasming he goes ham. Trapping you in the chair and fingering you with vigor until you're orgasming at least twice. He wants you shaking so he will have it. He wants you babbling and your cum all over his face and won't stop, moaning when you pull his hair and wetting the towel you set down on the chair before anything was started.

He does make lo-fi music. Loves making songs like that and ends up playing them while you two cuddle and during sweet love making sessions. Sometimes really casual, loving sex where it's missionary -- rolling into each other while his beard scratching at your neck and chest, kissing at every part he can reach. Nails scratching at his back and one caressing his hair away from his forehead, just pure loving sex that leaves you both completely satisfied.

No one can have this but each other, completely separated from both of your everyday lives and people you know. Fingers digging into the flesh of your hips until both of you are cumming, teeth nibbling on your lips as you moan. He turns your face to his before swallowing your moans in a kiss, only pulling back to see your blissed out face.

Yeah, he wouldn't trade this for the world.

#18+ i block blogs with no age indication #◆.aot #❖.zeke jaeger #♥️.🍆anon #aot smut #aot fanfiction #aot x reader #zeke jaeger x reader #zeke jaeger smut #⚫.answered #⚫.drabbles #zeke smut #zeke yeager x reader #zeke yaeger x reader smut #zeke yeager smut

25 notes · View notes

warmau · 4 years

Text

☆ sf9 x coworker!au | congrats on your first win!

youngbin

happily gives you a tour of the office on your first day

oh no! did you get a papercut? scrap your knee? get a headache? come to him and he will get you all better!

opens his drawer and it’s neatly organized - labels and color-coded rubber bands

takes criticism with grace you have never before seen, literally could be being torn to shreds by the boss and he just smiles and bows with the utmost respect

(screams about how stressed he is later on in the supply closet when no one is around to hear him)

won’t admit it, but envies the workers who have cute photos of their family and partners on their office desks,,,,,,,,,,when will he have that?

gets paired with you on a project and since you are new everyone thinks you’re just a burden

but youngbin leads you through it step by step, doing overtime if he has to just to help correct your work, and squeezing your hand gently before you have to present it to the managers

way too reserved to outright ask you on a date, but when you invite him to lunch he absolutely agrees and walks around the office with stars in his eyes for the rest of the day

inseong

“hey, don’t do it like that! here let me show you the keyboard shortcut for it! hey you know that’s the old version of microsoft word right? hey! hey! you need my help i know you do!”

sticks his nose in everyone else's business even when his own work is piling up

wears bowties unironically

will talk shit about the higher-ups at lunch and then shower them in praise at company meetings

does not have a filter sometimes, but thankfully his brain and good looks have gotten him out of some tricky situations with clients

pokes his head over his cubicle to ask his best friend jaeyoon the most stupid questions

“jaeyoon, am i annoying?”

“inseong finish the financial report before we both get fired.”

you get an error screen on your computer so you ask inseong for some help

the entire walk to your office, he’s telling you that he’s pretty much a computer genius - like he didn’t go to school for computer science - but if he wanted he could totally just be in the IT department

but when he looks at your computer for about five minutes, he presses something and the whole thing just. dies.

spends time bribing an unwilling, way more tech-savvy chani to come and help you out

and when chani finally agrees, it takes him like two seconds to fix the problem, but before he goes he tells you “inseong just made it worse, watch out for him.”

inseong sticks his tongue out, but gets embarrassingly apologetic in front of you, but you tell him it’s fine - jokingly commenting “being so cute gets you out of trouble alot, right?”

inseong can’t stop thinking about it for weeks - did, did that mean that YOU think HE’S cute?

jaeyoon: hey. snap out of it and get to work dude

jaeyoon

shows up to work with his gym bag, changes in the bathroom, and comes out looking more put together than half the other guys

do not touch his protein shake and salad

it is over for you if you do

always gets roped into doing the heavy lifting and a part of him is too nice to say no, but the other part is like - this is going to be a great squat workout so why not

secretly judges hwiyoung and taeyang for always buying lunch like learn to cook

best butt in the office, maybe even the building

has gotten propositioned by higherups and he’s always turning them down in the most roundabout, kind way

“are you free this weekend jaeyoon?”

“oh i wish i was, id love to spend some time with you - but i have to take care of my grandmother’s ailing........parakeet.”

keeps buying supplies for himself that keeps getting stolen

and everyone is like it’s inseong. he’s taking them. and jaeyoon is like nooooooo he’s my bestie he would never

(he did though)

you ask jaeyoon one day if you should get into running - you’ve wanted to pick it up for a while but don’t know where to start

suddenly his eyes are twinkling and he’s grabbing your hands in his like

“let me show you the wonderful world of exercise!”

you didn’t know what you were getting into, but now you somehow end up morning jogging with jaeyoon

one day dawon spots both of you coming in with duffel bags and he’s like “oooooo did you spend the night together?” and you turn tomato red

as jaeyoon, without a hint of shame goes, “no! but we did just break a sweat together - right!?”

dawon: oh my god

you: oh my god

jaeyoon: what- what did i say?

dawon

designated office party planner

it’s your birthday? someone in HR is having a baby? it’s friday and everyone looks sad so it’s up to dawon to make it better - well here he goes

coffee stain central up on this boy

every time he gives a presentation, someone ends up going like “did that even make sense?”

and dawon, at this point is like, “no i dont make sense. so stop asking. anyway - that’s what i think the company should do about lost net profit.”

when he’s getting scolded for a mistake, he somehow ends up saying something that leaves the manager in a fit of laughter

which results in him never really getting into trouble

(much to the annoyance of other coworkers cough zuho cough)

photocopies his face like he’s in third grade

doesn’t give back the pens he borrows

knocks over taeyang’s plants on a daily basis and blames rowoon’s tall ass for it

he recruits you into going cake shopping after work for chani’s birthday and as you’re looking at them

you notice how hard he’s working to pick a flavor chani likes

and you point out how sentimental he really is about his coworkers and dawon shrugs and for a moment you see a bit of seriousness as he explains, “they put up with me - so i want to thank them in one way.”

you frown, “what do you mean they put up with you? you’re the sunshine of the office!”

the words make dawon bashful and shy for what seems like the first time in his life and he plays it off like a joke to distract you from the fac that

well that you made clown lee dawon all blushy

rowoon

his mom bought him this shirt and no he isn’t embarrassed. his mom has great taste. obviously.

slow typer

unlike inseong, whose tall lanky body can slink past anything like water, rowoon is clumsy

hits his head on door frames, walks into tall file cabinets, his knees his the top of the table during meetings and he gets all apologetic

higherups have tried to convince him to be in a commercial to promote the company but he’s so humble he doesn’t think he’s worthy

dawon from some corner: ill do it

walks into work with his headphones and forgets to take them off until youngbin is practically yelling for him to turn around

bothers chani every hour on the dot

says he just walked over to stretch his legs but really he just wants to see what chani is up to

gets giddy over sparkly new things like the coffee machine being replaced

or getting a new work laptop

one afternoon, you’re really busy typing up a report that when a shadow looms over you - you nearly don’t notice it

until, out of the corner of your eye you glance up and let out a yelp because rowoon is bending over you to squint at your screen

“sorry, oh gosh i didn’t mean to scare you!”

his wide eyes turn puppy-like with apology and you suddenly feel like you’re the guilty party for making such a sweet person sad

when you ask if he needs help or something, rowoon nods and explains that the report you’re working on references an old report he did and he needs to tell you about some changes

without thinking twice he leans over you, both hands on either side of you as he places his large hand over yours on the mouse

you freeze as he clicks around till he opens his report, and feel something shiver up your spine when he talks close against your ear

rowoon is so oblivious, he doesn’t even catch you tensing up, until inseong strolls buy and wolf whistles at you two

(rowoon proceeds to apologize for this incident for the next month straight)

taeyang

last to arrive, first to leave

what does he even do here? no one really knows - sometimes they think he’s just sitting in his office and daydreaming for the entire eight hour work day

his phone is always going off with notifications, but if you send him a text in the work gc he does not respond

gets up to disappear into the bathroom like five times in an hour, compulsively brushes his teeth and puts on hand cream

keeps potted plants on his desk which are named after his favorite celebrities

yes, there is a jongin cacti, don’t make fun of it

when asked a question at meetings, he answers slow and steady and in such a low voice that no one knows what he said

but no one ever asks him to speak up because when he looks at you

he’s looking at you with such an intensity that most people choose to keep their mouth shut

like jaeyoon, some higherups are interested in him, but there’s rumors that he’s probably a secret royal living among the normal populace for fun so no one really tries it

one day, you see taeyang at the water cooler and say a bubbly hello

he responds with a tiny nod and then you ask, “is the water for you or for your plants?”

he blinks and explains that it’s for his plants - which you get all excited about and ask if you can meet them

which catches him off guard because no one has ever asked to “meet” his plants, actually most people think it’s weird that he harbors them so closely

so when he leads you over to his desk - he’s even more astounded with how you get excited over the different names and types

and you thank him for letting you know about all of them

waving goodbye as you leave the office

he tells himself to think nothing of it, but when he finds a stack of plant nutrient packets on his desk the next day with a note from you

he thinks,,,,,,,,,,well finally - there’s someone of interest to him in this otherwise boring office after all

zuho

finishes all his projects the night before

has spent nights in the office

almost scared rowoon half to death when he left and said bye to zuho and when he came in the next day zuho was in the same spot, wearing the same thing, staring at the same open file

rowoon had thought he had been like. mummified

the slacks he wears are too short, dawon will not stop pointing this out

pictures of his cat in his office

every secret santa they’ve ever done, zuho gets cat toys

mutters about being overworked, but really if he just ,,,,,,,, if he just did his work at a reasonable hour - it’d be fine

gets antsy when he’s eating and catches anyone else eating - but like with their hands

like he’ll be enjoying his lunch, but his anxiety hits the roof when he turns and sees that taeyang has spilled sauce on his tie and hasn’t noticed

“please smile more - you’re scaring the client”

you’re having a late lunch one afternoon - so you’re alone in the break room

and zuho comes in, slumping over into the seat beside you and pulling his own lunch from his bag

you haven’t ever talked much with him before so it’s a bit awkward

when suddenly you hear him ask,

“is that a - is that a cat lunch box?”

you feel your face flush with embarrassment, and you try to explain that you’re going to buy a new - more professional looking one -

but zuho shakes his head and lifts the cover to see the cartoon orange cat and

and giggles?!?!?!

and you’re like omg what he looks so cute, he usually looks so intimidating but right now he looks like??? a baby???

and he goes “no, no don’t change it. it’s so nice. also finally, someone with some decency to bring a lunch box - sometimes dawon just fishes half-eaten food out of his backpack and i die a little inside.”

you and zuho bond over being cat people and proper tableside manners LOL

hwiyoung

could give less of a shit about this job

is vocal about it too

youngbin has been trying to get him to wear something more business-y since he started here but if you put a tie on hwiyoung

in like an hour you’ll find it in the trashcan

“why can’t you just wear it?”

“it makes my neck feel weird.”

everyone thought he was this cold, selfish young guy until one day the entire office heard him on a phone call with his sister

getting all mushy and hearing her call him his “cute baby brother”

after that, even if he was trying to death glare at dawon, it wasn’t working

because now he’s the offices “cute baby brother”

even though chani is younger than him LOL

secretly tries to play video games during work hours by switching between tabs

and taeyang is like c’mon we’re not that bad with computer - but rowoon is like woah wait you can do two different things???? at once????? on a computer????

hates to admit it to anyone, but he doesn’t have a drivers licenses so he gets dropped off by friends sometimes

sometimes has to ask youngbin for a ride home and youngbin is like of course!!!!!! anything for a coworker :D

and hwiyoung is like hhhh how are you so happy all the time butalsothankyou

too self-conscious to whip out his glasses so he suffers through contacts

you bump into hwiyoung on the subway, which you never see him take, and can tell he’s lost

because he rushes up to you like he’s never done before and is like are you going to the office!!!!

you and him take the ride together and when you open your phone to play your favorite game - his eyes light up like christmas

and he spends the half hour helping you get passed the harder bosses

you almost miss your stop because you two are way too engrossed in the game and ever since then

hwiyoung thinks you’re one of the “cool” office people

chani

everyone adores him

from his coworkers to the mailman to the secretary to the higherups

all he has to do is show up and everyone is like - in a better mood

which he doesn’t get because most of the time he’s frowning or running away from rowoon

has to fix everyone’s tech problems

but won’t do it for free - so people give them their lunches or even, in extremes, bargain off vacation days

hwiyoung is the only person who doesn’t really coddle him and therefore hwiyoung is the only person chani willingly goes out to lunch wtih

rowoon: chaniiiiiii what are you eating today!

chani: sorry im going to ,,,,,, brazil for lunch, see you in 2-5 business days

he just wants to work in peace and quiet

it took him an hour to explain to inseong how the bluetooth on his phone works

he is the quintessential “look into the camera like you’re on the office” mood

someone from billing tried to flirt with him at the christmas party and nearly was falling over into his lap

and he was like “,,,,,,,,,,are you sick?”

actually really proud of himself when he gets complimented on his work, but he refuses to show a change in emotion

you’re tinkering with an old monitor in the supply room to see if you can fix it and take it home since youngbin said they’ll be throwing it away

and chani walks by just in time to hear inseong tell you to ask chani for help

you wave it off, explaining you don’t want to bother him

and chani tries to walk away, but finds himself working on the monitor during lunch and then shyly and unsurely handing it over to you

“wh- did you fix it?”

“yeah, nothings really wrong with it but -”

“thanks! should i treat you to lunch sometime?”

chani’s already wide eyes go wider and he agrees, stuttering over his words

later on he finds jaeyoon and zuho and without even explaining the situation he asks

“is going to lunch with a coworker what they call a date?”

in about two seconds everyone except you is in the room, pestering chani for information and rowoon is sobbing because ‘chani is finally growing up’

602 notes · View notes

certifiedskywalker · 5 years

Text

Academic Misgivings (Part Ten) - Peter Parker

You and Peter Parker aren’t friends, but you’re not entirely enemies either. You don’t like him but he always tries to be nice to you. He has everything you’ve ever wanted and you’ll do anything to show him that you can make it on your own. But can you?

Things are looking up! The truth is out there and Y/N and Peter finally know where they stand with each other. But will this relationship last? Or will outside forces bring it crumbling down?

/ PART ONE / PART TWO / PART THREE / PART FOUR/PART FIVE / PART SIX / PART SEVEN / PART EIGHT / PART NINE

It felt like there was pure electricity in your veins. Every inch of you buzzed and hummed with a new sense of life. After Saturday, after you told Peter how you felt about him, your whole body thrummed in some Spring-like symphony. You barely registered Sunday when the Sun knocked on your windowsill.

You only got out of bed when your phone chirped with a text alert. In a flash, your covers were thrown to the side and your cold feet hit the floor in a matter of seconds. Your phone was charging on your dresser, it’s screen illuminated and reflected in the small mirror of your vanity. The sight of yourself, oddly, made you smile. Your lips were stuck in a smile, as they had been the moment Peter grabbed your hand. Silently you hoped that you would see yourself smile more.

Your phone chimed once more, ever impatient when it came to your attention. Although, you the alert that greeted you sent a flurry of all sorts of insects a buzz inside your stomach.

PETER: mornin :)

YOU: good morning

PETER: i told May about shopping

PETER: but she has a shift tonight so she cant

YOU: Oh, okay.

PETER: she can do Monday after school but we dont have to wait

You bit the inside of your cheek in a poor attempt at suppressing a grin. Eager to reply, your thumbs hovered over the keyboard of the texting app as you thought of your answer. Peter added to his last message both you could reply.

PETER: i mean it we would be getting to it late so the dresses and stuff might not be cool

PETER: but you would make any dress look cool

PETER: pretty, i mean.

PETER: sorry

PETER: i’m screwing this up

You beamed at the series of texts and shook your head. As you typed out a reply, you rocked back on forth on the heels, too happy to keep still.

YOU: You’re not screwing anything up, Pete. You’re being endearing

You waited for a beat and when Peter didn’t reply you wrote out another message.

YOU: It’s sweet and very cute

PETER: cute?

YOU: Yes, cute. :)

PETER: your cute too

YOU: You mean *you’re and thanks Pete

A laugh slipped past your lips. Loud giggling was a sound so foreign to you it sounded fake as your laugh echoed within the walls of your room.

PETER: wow ok i see how it is

PETER: call me cute then insult my grammar

YOU: Maybe…. :) and I don’t mind waiting until Monday. I could use May’s help with finding a dress.

PETER: your mom still isn’t home?

You felt your smile fall flat, but not entirely give into a frown. You had been so consumed with what had happened the night before you hadn’t been paying attention. During the night, you thought you heard a door slam but your mind was so lost in some fantasy you felt you had imagined it. Even if your mother was home, dress shopping would not be on top of her to-do list.

YOU: No. But May is more fashionable anyway.

PETER: ok, she’ll be happy to hear that

PETER: i gotta run, see you tomorrow?

YOU: Yes, you’ll see me tomorrow. We have school.

PETER: oh yeah :)

YOU: Go you goof

You set your phone back on the top of the dresser and left it to charge as you padded out of your bedroom. The apartment held a chill trapped in the air. One so strong you shivered and wished you had snagged your sweatshirt for the trip to the kitchen. Dirty dishes piled up in the sink, some bowls tucked in on the top looked freshly used. The next step you took creaked and a shuffling sound to your left made you jump.

On the couch, the crumpled form of your father laid on his side. One arm was completely extended, flailing off the edge of the cushions entirely. His mouth was pressed in a line and even in sleep, his jaw moved, tensed, working through some stress that haunted his dreams. Your mother was nowhere in sight. She hadn’t been for three years.

The euphoria that Peter’s texts had given curved down, off the high. You had been pitched off a cliff and back into reality. A reality where brilliant boys like Peter Parker did not mix with girls like you. Bravely, with Peter’s words repeated in your mind like a mantra, you pushed the doubt away. He wouldn’t care about your family, about their flaws; Peter accepted everyone, helped everyone. He would stick by you.

Quietly, you back over to the couch and plucked the blanket from off the back of it. With a tenderness you remembered from your childhood, you rested the thick blanket over your father's sleeping form.

“Sorr-ry…” he whispered, his body shuddering as he spoke. You pressed your lips together to keep from making a sound. Whatever dream he was having was not a good one. It felt more and more like worst fears and nightmares ran in the family.

You remembered times of his smiling face. Trips to the zoo to marvel at dozing lions and laugh at funny the penguins looked when they waddled. His smile had faded, alongside his presence after aliens fell from the sky and destroyed the home he had built for you and your mother. Now he worked day in and day out, with Sunday and Monday mornings off every other month to make sure you both had enough to eat. When you mother had left, he barely spoke. He wouldn’t smile anymore, ask you how your day was and that was all. It was like living with a ghost sometimes, a haunted, weary soul.

Tiptoeing, you crept back down the hall and into your room. It was best to leave him to rest. Plus, you had studying to do. Your books laid on your small oak desk with book covers taunting you as you took a seat in your rickety desk chair. A sigh passed over your lips as you grabbed The Great Gatsby. Hopefully, you could stay focused and keep your thoughts about Monday at the side.

As you ducked into the books’ pages you realized, that would simply be impossible.

Sunday had dragged with little excitement. You had spent the day studying or trying to study at the very least. Too many ideas and hypothetical scenarios about Monday swirled about you, pestered you as you moved through the day. Your father had left for work soon after you had seen him. An all-day shift at a grocery store outside of Queens took him away and left you to your own devices. Although your mind was too lost in thought too much of anything productive.

Even as you eagerly tucked yourself into bed as the Sunday sunset, your brain still worked. You thought of Peter as you and May studied fictitious dresses. His lazy smile when he would see you in a dress for the first time. Would May be able to tell that you were both something more? Had Peter already told her?

The steady flow of worrying questions turned into a somewhat tumultuous lullaby as you drifted in and out of sleep. A hybrid of dream and nightmare gave you what you wanted only to take it away. Peter’s face with a smile then a frown as his figure faded from your sleep-vision. Needless to say, sleep did not come easy. If it did, it didn’t stay long as you woke up a few times during the night.

When you woke for the last time, with the sound of your alarm ringing in your ears. Like a ghost, the shrill haunted you as you got ready for the day. Your walk to school was one of belly aching excitements. You were going to see Peter after you told him that you liked him. He liked you too. It all felt like a dream, some horrible trick; but it was real.

It was as real as Peter as he leaned against the lockers near your own. His lips were pressed in a line, brown eyes searching the faces of all who passed by. Peter was looking for you. The smile that spread across your features must have acted as some sort of beacon or maybe your heart was hammering louder than you thought because Peter met your gaze in an instant. A soft smile and the scent of Peter’s cologne greeted you as you walked to your locker.

“Hi,” he breathed out as if the word had been waiting for its appearance as well as your own. You felt heat rush up your neck and curl like wisps of smoke in your cheeks.

“Hi,” you returned, “you waited?” Peter’s expression shifted from relaxed to shuffling and stuttering. His arms crossed and uncrossed in record time.

“I did but I...if you don’t like it...I thought it would be nice.” Pink kissed the tips of his ears and you smiled at the sight.

“It is nice.” You lifted a hand and brushed it against his arm. The touch shocked you, literally and metaphorically. A zap of static zipped up your fingers and you felt your heart melted into a puddle of a surprise when Peter leaned into the touch.

“Ok, I’ll do it again then,” Peter said with a calm smile on his face. You nodded before you turned your attention to the lock. As you entered your combination, Peter pressed the side of his head against the neighboring locker. When you snuck a glance at him, you saw that he was already staring at you.

“Hi,” you murmured again in the hopes of deterring your growing bashfulness

“Hi,” he repeated and you let out a shy giggle. “Oh, and should we meet here after school?”

“We can, yeah,” you said as you opened your locker. You plucked your math textbook from the dark depths before you shut the metal door with a clang. Peter’s brown eyes studied your face and you gave him a soft smile. “What?”

“Is it weird now?”

“What is it?”

“Us,” Peter admitted. “I mean, I like you and you like me so it’s not weird but it kind of feels that way, right? Maybe it’s just ‘cause I haven’t-”

“Pete,” you rested a hand on his cheek, something you had wanted to do since you realized you had feelings for him. “It’s not weird, you’re being weird.”

He let out a laugh and you grinned at the sound. “Am I?”

“No, but I get what you’re saying,” you let your hand fall from his cheek. While the action was new, it felt right; it felt natural. “But the circumstances were weird. It’s not every day a tutor and a tutee gets together.”

“Tutee?” Peter raised a brow at you with a grin splayed out on his features.

“The person being tutored,” you explained. You paused before sighing, “you think it’s a funny word.”

“I don’t think it is a word,” Peter said through a laugh.

“Well...it is now,” you took a step away from your locker and out into the current of the hallway. Students marched to and fro, getting ready for first period as the clock ticked down the seconds.

“Y/N, what about proper grammar conventions?” Peter teased as he fell into step at your side. You let out a huff but your amusement was clear on your face.

“Maybe this was a mistake,” you pondered aloud and you heard Peter stifle a laugh.

“Our mistake, though. A good mistake.” As Peter spoke, his knuckles brushed against yours. The entire world melted away until all that remained was you and Peter. Your fingers splayed and reached for his. When you pinkie knocked against his, you curled yours around it.

You heard Peter hum something but you were too lost in this new reality to totally hear it. Mindlessly, your feet carried you through the hall with Peter at your side. He spoke up again but your world was still so fuzzy. You kept walking until you saw a figure sulking towards you and Peter, headed straight towards you.

“Y/N? Why is MJ looking at you like that?” Peter’s questions finally broke through as the rose-colored lenses lifted from your eyes. MJ’s dark eyes were glued on you as she pushed her way through the hallway. It didn’t look as if she were angry but slightly panicked. The mild annoyance in her face was always there.

“I-I-”

“Y/N,” MJ stopped right in front of you and Peter.

“Hi, MJ,” Peter chirped. She sent a look his way, something entirely unreadable.

“Peter,” she turned her gaze back to you, “I ran into Flash.”

“Oh?” You furrowed your brows in confusion. However, your befuddlement did nothing to quell the sudden and furious storm of dread brewing in your stomach. Flash.

“He asked if I had seen you or if we had a class together.” You untangled Peter’s pinkie from your own and you felt the air drop around you.

“Why?”

“I don’t know, I just told him to shut up and he told me he had a surprise for you.”

“What does that mean?” Peter asked, cutting through the conversation. You looked at him and saw his jaw was tensed. Was he jealous? He turned his gaze to you and, instead of anger, you saw concern. “What does he mean?”

“I don’t kno-”

A high pitched whine pierced through the air, out from the intercoms that lines the walls of the hallway. Students stopped shuffling at the sound, waiting for whatever early-morning announcement couldn’t wait until school had actually begun. Crackling on the end of the microphone broke the whine and someone cleared their throat.

“Midtown High, I have a special announcement from our very own Y/N L/N. You may think that aliens are the true villains or maybe that Spiderman is the true menace, but it seems Y/N has been the darkness in our midst all along.”

“Who is that?” Someone asked but you knew. It was Flash. Whatever voice modulator he was using could not hide the goblin quality of his voice from you. You glanced in the direction of the voice that asked the question and saw a few people from your history class. With widened eyes, they stared at you, waiting for whatever villainous message Flash had planned to share.

“What does that mean?” Peter’s voice pulled you back to yourself. You grabbed his hand and his brown eyes met your gaze. It hit you all at once. Flash was going to tell them about Peter, about how you both had schemed to ruin him.

“Peter, I have to tell you something,” you gushed. You had to beat Flash to it, tell your side of the story before he got the chance. “Before this, before I got to-”

“I..want Peter off the team ...I'm...using Peter. ...leave me alone...Peter ...entitled piece of shit.” Your voice with gravel quality rang out over the speaker, but it wasn’t your voice. It was too low, too edited and pieced together. It almost sounded mechanic but the words spoken were your own. Your stomach dropped. The phone call on Saturday, Flash’s threat….

A profound silence filled the hallway as the speaker cut off. An echo, your own heartbeat pounded in your ears. With a simple audio trick, Flash had ripped a hole in the hope you had built for yourself. You felt your limbs grow cold and numb with the realization. The whole school had heard.

“Y/N, “Why didn’t you tell me?” Peter’s voice broke the glass that had gathered around you and the vacuum of silence stopped whirring in your ears. The happiness you had held, in the shape of Peter’s hand, slipped from your grasp. His brown eyes were squinted but it didn’t stop the welling tears as they threatened to spill over. “Y/N?”

“I…” You took a step back away from Peter. His brows were knitted together in confusion and you felt bile rise up in your throat.

“Y/N, is this...did you...a lie?”

“N-No, Peter, it’s not...it’s not like that.”

“But it was? This whole time?” His voice cracked and you imagined it was nothing compared to the shattered pieces of his heart.

“No…” you whimpered, your voice failing you. “No, Pete it…” Eyes. All the eyes in the vicinity were glued on you and Peter. The Shakespearean drama unfolding in the middle of the hallway had captured everyone’s attention. Your throat was closing with panic, making so you could only choke out the next few words. “I-I’m sorry.”

You turned around and ran down the hall, as far away as you could from Peter Parker.

Your feet carried you out of the school, wove through the crowd amassing at the entrance as the bell rang. By the time you made it down the block, your chest was heaving. You hadn’t run that fast in a long time and it didn’t help that a series of silent sobs racked your form. To catch your breath, you slumped against a brick wall of a storefront for support. People, much too busy to wonder what you were doing out of school, passed you by with cups of coffee clutched tightly in their hands.

You looked up from the passersby and across the street. The slightly yellowed lights of the coffee shop’s interior shown through the front window. The tables lining the windowsill were empty, letting the glow shine out in the still brightening sky. Golden edges of the horizon stood out against the dark blue of morning.

A sudden hunger overwhelmed with sharp stomach pain. You hadn’t eaten breakfast, too eager to see Peter to spend a minute longer in your apartment. Now, you felt too nauseous to eat despite the pang of hunger. What you wanted was a place to be alone.

You crossed the way, barely caring to look either way down the street. A car honked as you darted along the road but you were too consumed with wiping the evidence of tears off of your face. When you felt satisfied with your effort, you pulled open the door of the coffee shop. The heat of brewing javas and the smell of freshly baked cookies welcomed you with a warmth that, in the present moment, you felt you didn’t deserve.

“Hey, you! My favorite customer!” A soft voice greeted you from behind the counter although, at first glance, you didn’t recognize the face accompanying it. At least not the hair. “Oh, yeah, changed it up a little,” the perky barista explained as she pinched a few strands of her now blue hair between her fingers. “Got tired of the pink.”

“It looks nice,” you sniffle as you speak, eyes glancing over the menu. “Any new teas?”

“We have a cinnamon apple tea,” she said with a smile, “it’s like apple cider but not as tart, ya know.” You nodded and gave her a half-hearted smile. She returned the expression, mirrored the sadness that you knew was much too readable in your red-rimmed eyes.

“I’ll take one of those then.” You sniffled again as you pulled out a few dollar bills to pay. The brightly colored barista hit a few buttons on the cash register and recited the order.

“So one apple cinnamon tea and one fresh snickerdoodle cookie,” she said pleased. She looked up at you with a smile, even as your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“I didn’t order a-”

“You look like you need one,” she said and tipped her head at your eyes. She handed you a tissue from the counter, “and it’s on the house. Don’t worry about it.”

“Thank you, I don’t know what to say,” you gushed, overwhelmed by the kindness. You were only used to Peter being so kind. When the rest of your life had been lonely it felt like every good thing someone did for you was a treasure.

“You don’t have to say a thing. It’ll be right out.”

It felt like a mere few minutes had passed before a warm cup of tea and baked cookie were in your hands. With another series of ‘thank yous’ said to the barista, you made your way to the table tucked in the far corner. As you waited for your tea to cool down enough to drink, you picked at the snickerdoodle. You broke off pieces of it to eat, weary that if you ate it too fast it might not stay down.

When you had worked through half of the delicious snack, you looked up. The empty seat across from you seemed to echo. If you listened hard enough, strained your ears to the point of lightheadedness, you could almost hear Peter’s laugh. It was the same laugh that he showed whenever you made an inadvertent joke or mocked the sentence structure of a decathlon practice question. That laugh was not the same as the little chuckle Peter gave you when you teased him.

Part of you cringed at the thought. There had been a point where you had meant the words you teased him with. At some point, you had told yourself you hated Peter. How could you have done that without knowing him? Had you jealousy been that deep?

Obviously it had been, you thought to yourself bitterly. You had willing teamed up with Flash, that was how deeply your envy had been. Now, through some twisted sense of fate and Peter’s charm, all you felt was shame. Shame and sadness seemed to come hand-in-hand. With the regret came tears, tears that cascaded down your cheeks and on the napkin placed before you.

You wanted to blame it all on Flash. He had turned green with envy whereas you had grown. Grown to like Peter, more than you ever thought was possible. Flash had ruined it, manipulated words, the only tool you had and made sure he was right in the end: Peter wouldn’t sick with you now. Only the pain in his face as your voice, but not truly yourself, spoke over the speakers and told a stale truth.

Your heart began to pound as reality set in fully. Nothing would be the same now. Whatever you and Peter had started, shared with each other, would flatline. There was no longer a pulse left in that relationship and it was your fault. All you could do was apologize, try to tell him how things had changed when you got to know him better.

Deep in your heart, you felt like you need Peter. Through him, through learning about him you learned more about yourself. Through liking him, you learned to like yourself. Now it felt like you were free-falling. The foothold Peter had made for you both had broken under the weight of past mistakes. You couldn’t fix it, so you would have to learn to be okay on your own.

And the coffee shop didn’t feel like the right place to start. Too many memories of Peter haunted the place, times when you felt like the best person you could be. You needed to tap into that person, that version of you, without the ghost of Peter helping you. You needed to be with yourself.

So, after you finished your cookie and tea, you thanked the barista one last time. It was noon by the time you had felt, time seemed to have sped up in your panicked state. With traffic somewhat calmed, you were able to cross the street without cars honking in distress this time. The path your house was peppered with browned leaves carried in on the breeze. Autumn’s end was near, sharp and sudden as the end of bare branches.

It would have surprised you if snow were to fall as you unlocked the gate to your apartment building. Instead of thinking about how you and Peter had said a heartfelt ‘goodbye’ in the spot you stood in just a few days ago, you thought about the impending Winter. Maybe you could convince your parents to go to your cousin’s place for the holiday season so you weren’t locked away in your room like last Winter break. It would be an unexpected trip but you couldn’t stand the thought of being home alone for two weeks.

What was also unexpected was the sight of your father when you opened the door to the apartment. He looked just as tired as he did Sunday, but he was cleaning the kitchen. Cleared plates and shining utensils were sat out on the drying rack. When you the door closed behind you, your father looked up.

“School?”

“I-I…” your stomach twisted, “I wasn’t feeling well. Can you...you call me in sick?” Your father’s brows scrunched together but he nodded nonetheless.

“Y-Yeah, you...you alright?” There was a softness in his voice, the type of concern a father should have for his daughter. How long had it been since you had heard him speak like that? He had been gone off on work trips, struggling to make ends meet and all the while hoping that your mother would come back. Yet, it seemed, he had a bit of softness saved for you. And that broke your heart.

“N-No….” Tears fell from your eyes before you had the chance to stop them. They blurred your vision until the home you had known for the past seven years was turned into muddled shapes. You relied solely on sound. So when, instead of asking about what had happened, you heard the footsteps of your father’s work boots against the floorboards, you were shocked. More so when two warm arms wrapped around you and your backpack to pull you to his chest.

Sobs racked your frame, so loud that your cries seemed to echo through the apartment. Despite the sound, you heard your father’s voice. “I wish I could fix it.”

“Y-you can’t,” you hiccuped. You felt his arms tighten around you as if holding you together was all he could do. In that moment, it was all you needed.

You didn’t remember falling asleep or how you got in bed in the first place. The note on your nightstand scrawled out in rough script from your father told you what you needed to know.

Called into the school. You should get some rest, honey. Feel better.

-Dad

You set the note back down and sat back up against your headboard. Fresh from sleep, your eyes were still clouded lost in the haze of slumber that called out to you to return. The moment the darkness behind your eyelids welcomed you back, an image of Peter smiling entered your mind’s eye. Crinkles by his eyes and the wide grin made your heartache.

Your eyes flew open and you scrambled to your nightstand again. In a mad, groggy search, you looked for your phone. Your fingertips traced the smoothed wood of the side table and found no trace of it. With a sudden rush of mild panic, you got up from your bed. The fabric of your worn, blue backpack poked out from under your desk chair.

With the knowledge it was the last place you had it and pure hope, you kneeled in front of your bag and rummaged through the pockets. Your hands brushed against folders and paper in your quest. The familiar feeling of earbud wires tangled between your fingers gave you a rush of relief. Pulling gently on the wires, you lifted it out of your backpack. Still plugged into the port, your earbuds suspended your phone before your eyes.

“Shit,” you whispered to yourself as you unplugged your earbuds. The screen of your phone illuminated with text notifications. One from MJ asked where you had gone while the message from her gave you details on what you missed during English class. You had even received a message from Ned who, after telling you that it was him, told you that he hadn’t seen Peter and that he had heard about what had happened. There was nothing from Peter himself.

You finally unlocked your phone and scrolled through your contacts. It didn’t take long until you found Peter’s name littered among those of people you no longer spoke to. His contact picture was an open book, a picture you had taken during a tutoring session instead of asking for one from him. Now, looking at it, you wished you had.

Without wasting another moment on regret you hit the dial button and pressed your phone to your ear. The dull, repetitive ringing had you biting on the inside of your cheek nervously. Pick up, please, please pick up.

“Hi, it’s Peter….” His voice, animated, almost happy, answered a twisted sense of happiness flooded through you, even if it was short-lived. You had to tell him you were sorry.

“Pete, it’s me. I-I-”

“And I can’t get to the phone right now because uh...I’m busy? I guess? You can leave a message though. I don’t really know what else to-” A loud ‘beep’ stopped the automated message. Tears welled in your eyes at the sound before you found the courage to speak up.

“I know I’m the last person you want to hear from but I need to talk to you. I need to explain so you don’t think…” you paused and sighed. You should have written it down, planned out what you were going to say. It was too late now. “I’m sorry, Pete. You know I’m not...I’m not the best person, I sure wasn’t before we started talking. But with you, I feel like I can be a better person. I hope...I hope you can see that. I’m sorry.”

Your phone fell away from your ear as you pressed the ‘hang up’ button displayed on the screen. As you did, another text alert popped up. The number matched Ned’s and you tapped the notification.

NED: um, I don’t want to worry you or stress you out more than you probably already are but I still can’t find Peter.

NED: he normally tells me when he’s gonna go out but he didn’t and May doesn’t know where he is either. have you heard from him?

YOU: I gave him a call. He didn’t answer.

NED: okay, thanks.

NED: and, Y/N, don’t worry, he’ll come around.

You didn’t have the strength to thank Ned or ask how he even got your number. Instead, you peeked into your backpack again to find a notebook and a pen. Peter was gone, probably angry and upset. The thought filled you with worry.

Your eyelids grew heavy at you wrote out four simple words. On shaking legs, you stood from your spot and strode over to the window of your bedroom. Carefully, you leaned the notebook against the glass so it could easily be seen:

Spiderman, I need you.

Bitterly pleased with your handy work, you strode over to you bed and collapsed once more.

The light tapping of rain against your window slowly coaxed you from your slumber. Slowly, you sat up from your bed and hit the button on your phone to catch the time. It was ten o'clock at night meaning the dance tomorrow was merely sixteen hours away. The calculations in your head made you feel sick with dread and sleep.

The steady tap against your window pulled you out of your own mind. In the small second of peace, you let your thoughts drift again. That was, until, the pattering at your wind intensified. You shot up from your bed and you feet hit the floor. Blindly, you swung your hand towards the lamp on your nightstand and flicked it on.

Two white eyes of a familiar red mask came into the light. A gloved hand waved on the other side of the glass as you threw yourself off of your bed. Your bare feet padded against the carpet of your bedroom floor as you neared the window. You weren’t entirely sure if your lack of pure shock was from the lingering haze of sleep or the fact you had seen Spiderman before. There wasn’t much thought to give it before you opened the window.

“You got my message,” you whisper as you poke you head out of your window. Your teeth clattered as a gust of night air swirled into your room. “Are you cold?”

“I, no, I’m okay. You’re lucky I was swinging around.” He said, his voice not as low as the last time you saw him. Something about the pitch was familiar, so familiar in fact it gave you goosebumps. Or was that just the cold?

Now was not the time to dwell. “I….I need help...”

The blank eyes of the mask stared at you in wait. Quiet oozed between you and you remember Spiderman being more talkative before. More confident, even. Perhaps it had been an off day for him too.

“His name is Peter, Peter Parker, you might know him. He works with Iron Man and he...I messed up. I don’t know where he is he won’t answer his calls and his friends can’t reach him either. Can you...do you find people?”

“That’s more of a Jessica Jones’ thing.” Your brows furrowed at the snappy tone and you opened your mouth slightly in shock.

“But can you help?”

“Why do you want to find him?”

“Because he’s missing!” You yell in a whisper. You threw your arms up in the air but Spiderman only cocked his head to the side like a confused puppy. Or perhaps a dog too wise for his own good.

“Just because of that?” Angry bubbled up inside you, spread flames from your stomach up to your chest; but your resolve turned to ash in your mouth. All you wanted was to know Peter was okay.

“I...I need to tell him that I’m sorry, that I-I...” The words got caught in your throat. Why were you telling a total stranger about this? A masked stranger at that. You were desperate...that was why.

“Tell him what?”

“That what I did, what I wanted, it’s different now.” Spiderman fell quiet and you felt it was due to the lack of context. But you were too tired to explain so you continued. “ I need to tell him that...well the voicemail I left him already covers most of it…”

“So he’ll call you back when he’s ready.” The superhero’s curtness was not something you had expected. Yet, despite the tone, you knew he was right. Peter would speak up when he was ready. There was no point in worrying until then. If he truly went missing, you were sure you would have felt it. With all that had happened, Peter probably ran off as you had.

“Yeah, sorry for bothering you. You’re probably busy.” Spiderman only nodded in reply and got up from his crouched position. As quiet as a shadow, you watched as he leaped on the fire escape railing and readied to jump off. When he lingered, you quirked a brow at him. Almost as if he sensed your change in expression, he craned his neck to look back at you.

“Do you...do you care about him?”

“Yes,” you said without missing a beat. “More than anything. He’s my closest friend and I….” The words teetered on the tip of your tongue but you bit them back. If you went too far you could never make it back. Spiderman nodded; sometimes there was no need for words to explain the most complex of feelings. All you had to do was look at someone’s face and just know.

“Then you can trust him to come around, Y/N.” With that, Spiderman lept and webbed away in a matter of a few seconds. You watched as the bright reds and blues of his suit faded into the haze of the light-polluted city. With your chin balanced on your elbow, you rested your head against the frame of the window. The white paint of its surface was chipped and had flaked off due to weathering over the years.

You too had lost parts of yourself as you had gotten older. Childhood memories felt more like an old movie now, one that you used to know the lines to but had since forgotten. When Peter asked you to tutor him, unknowingly, he had given you a chance at a starring role in a movie that promised a happy ending. So why did it feel like the reel had been cut short?

185 notes · View notes

cm-sheridan-writes · 7 years

Text

Chat Window

However it happens, it starts with putting yourself out there and hitting the Enter key. Leading up, there are several little moments on the forum, and out of the sea of usernames, a few start to stick in your memory. Eventually, you begin to keep track of their posts.

It takes months, but you realize that you’re forming a picture of a few of the users. One usually shows up in the middle of the night, active for a few hours before disappearing again. You wonder if they have insomnia, or if they live out of the country. Curious one night, you search for other posts they’ve made, digging for clues, cultural references, anything that could give you an answer. It occurs to you that someone could be researching you at that very moment, and your fingers pause above the keys. Is this creepy? Are you crossing a line? You’re ten pages deep in their old posts, though, so any wisdom from this realization is too little, too late.

You start edging into the conversation around them. It’s a fine line that you’re completely anxious of: you want them to notice you, but you don’t want to be a bother. You play with the idea of a direct message, but without any sort of context or post to reference, it feels way too vulnerable. Better not. Besides, what if they turn out to be a completely obnoxious person, or a bigot, or they reveal that they love Ayn Rand, like, on a deep and cellular level? Can you deal with that? (Memories of reading The Fountainhead for a lit class in high school may scar you a little more than you want to admit. Your instructor clearly had some sort of expectation about that book when he assigned it, but whatever it was, you cannot imagine.)

(You post something about this lit class, and Ayn Rand, and spend a few hours commiserating with most of the replies. One Rand supporter sneaks in and questions if you really absorbed the piece, and you find yourself disabling comments because the ensuing brawl is cluttering up your inbox.)

A few weeks pass, and suddenly there’s a note in your inbox, and that familiar username is behind it:

One new message from snaplolcat01:

saw ur post on ayn rand.. the comments were a trip and i read every single one. really glad no one made ME read anything by her

There’s a little flutter of validation in your chest, and you eagerly type back a response:

Haha, yeah, the comments got way out of hand, I should have known what I was doing when I posted that. Yah, your lucky. There are a couple scenes I just CANNOT unread. If you want my advice, stay FAR AWAY from those books. *you’re (ugh, first impressions, and that happens)

A few minutes pass without a response, and you shrug it off and click away from your inbox. As you scroll and tap and read and respond, you have a little, vague smile on your face. Being noticed is always nice. Communication is slow but constant over the next few days, whenever you find yourself near your computer and with some free time. They never seem to be on at the same time you are, but usually, you find a new response from them. You tiptoe around each other, keeping the talk to whatever latest drama is happening in some section of the forums, but you carefully reveal small pieces of yourself, and the conversation branches to news and politics, movies, and one day, when your schedules seem suddenly to overlap, favorite childhood cereals.

It’s been months, you realize, since that first introduction, and your talks would fill several dozens of pages at this point. For the most part, they still respond while you’re asleep, and one day, you say, “You’re always up so late, you must be on a different timezone than me.”

You’re up late that night, working on an essay, when one of your open tabs chimes at you. You glance up and click through, and in your inbox find:

haha, well idk what ur schedule is but im only able to get on after school and work i usually read stuff here til i fall asleep

The essay can wait.

Oh, gotcha What are you studying

The picture in your head starts to flesh out just a bit more. You find out that you two have a mutual interest in biology, though you’re in a pre-med track and intending to go into law school, while they’re doubling with computer science and interested in how this all ties in with genetics. They’re balancing a few restaurant jobs as well as a position grading for one of the professors in their department. You can sympathize with the lack of available time; you’re supposed to be writing an essay right now, after all.

oh dude i dont wanna distract u!!!

No, you’re fine! I need a break anyway, my brain feels like cement

The process of sharing is natural, sometimes abundant and sometimes halts, but never feels forced. The person behind the pixels seems as flesh and blood as anyone you know “in real life”, though you’re forced to confront your growing disillusionment with that phrase. You’d scoffed at a friend in high school who had had an internet girlfriend, asking how the relationship could be real if you’d never seen them in person. The internet had been a barrier back then, and while intellectually it made sense that there was a human being on the other end of the Ethernet cord, it was like watching shadow theater play out behind a scrim. It had never made sense that someone could fall in love with what you only saw as black and white pixels on a screen.

More and more, however, you’re forced to accept that you know more about this person than you do about many of the people you see on a day to day basis.

****

This might be a bit weird but go with me on this

yeah?

SO I’ve never ever seen you in real life, but it’s so weird that I know more about you than the girl in my cell bio class that I’ve been crushing on and I see her for actual hours a day And I don’t know a damn thing about her We braethe the same air *breathe

it’s wild dude i know whatu mea n (sorry long day, typing sucks haha) one of my tas was talking bout th is at a party (she was hella stoned, fukin wild XD) going on about global societies an d how we as like a people could connect so mjuch faster to somenoe acoss the globe easier than th people we see evry day somthing about a keyboard makes it easier ^^^her exact words

Whoa

i know rt? maybs if bio girl gave u her fb u two wopuld talk fuck dude i gott slep i kno my typing sucks but this is embararasing *embasrasing FUCK

HAhahahaha, no worries I should get going too (though I wanna hear more about this TA) (I never run into any of my profs or anything at parties)

haha highly recomend, its an EXPIERENCE cya dude

This idea of global society sticks with you, and their TA’s comment about keyboards. A keyboard offers a backspace key, and a way to edit yourself. You’ve said plenty of dumb shit on the internet before without necessarily stopping to think through the consequences, but then it occurs to you that at the start of this whole friendship, you’d sometimes gone through ten variations of the same two-sentence message before finally deciding to send it. It was a series of self-edits and careful selection of which parts of yourself you’d wanted seen. Just like real life.

There was comfort in the distance, though. Without a person in front of you, and with the limitless communication offered by a message sitting in your inbox, you couldn’t see reactions -- or judgment. This correspondence held more personal information about yourself than some of your in-person friends knew.

****

So I got Maya’s facebook page We’ve been talking, and we’re going to get drinks this weekend, maybe see a movie if there’s anything good out

YAY! thats awesome1!!

Thanks! :) If we hadn’t talked about global societies and stuff a few nights ago I dunno if I would’ve gotten up the courage to talk to her. Your advice for talking via computer made it soooo much easier.

so ur saying im resopnsible for this new relationship? *responsible ur welcome ;)

Drinks go fantastically, and you and Maya decide to forgo the movie and head back to her place. When you finally make it back to your computer, there are a few frantic, nosy messages.

HOWZ THE DATE cmon dude im dying to kno

i can only assume ur havn massive amounts of sex rn and im v happy for u but i need to know

r u alive????

You can’t keep the smile from your face, and you start to type out a response. Maya hadn’t thought it strange at all that you had an internet friend who had pushed you to finally ask her out. She’d even teased you, “Make sure to brag about me to your buddy.” The memory of that, her lips grazing your skin and her breath tickling your ear, raises goosebumps, and you shiver just a little bit. Some things just can’t be replicated over the internet, you decide, but friendship doesn’t seem to lack.

#cryptids #internet cryptids #of-themysciraa

20 notes · View notes