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whereisten · 4 years ago

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The New Kid

A Mark fic that’s part of our Halloween Series!

Summary: the new kid in town is nerdy, quiet, and cute. The two of you grow close, but could he be hiding a secret that might put your life in danger?

Pairing: Spider-Man!Mark x female reader (Mary Jane?)

Other Characters: best friend!Haechan, Ex-Boyfriend!Jeno, Villain!Taeyong

Genre: Superhero! Sci-fi, fluff (enemies? more like awkward classmates to lovers), some angst and violence, comedy, a little suggestive?

Warnings: a little cursing, minor mentions of verbal abuse, gun usage, some violent acts, blackmail, hostage situation

Word Count: 10K

(A/N: alright well..this shouldn’t have been this long but I had a lot of fun with this one so I hope you enjoy it😂, Spider-Man Mark is just so adorable my heartssnsjksjsjksk. Also..barely proofread, so mistakes, I know they’re there, but I pretend I do not see them😌)

—————

“Good morning class! Everyone please welcome our new student, Mark Lee!”

Your teacher held her arm out as she welcomed Mark in your Chemistry class.

Your head snaps up from your notebook.

A boy with round eyes and short brown wavy hair walks in.

“Hi..” he gives a thin smile and a small wave.

Your first thought is of how adorable he is. Your second thought is of how he looks nervous to enter a new school just a month after the year has started.

The class is silent with the exception of a few sniffles and music blasting through headphones.

Please don’t sit here, please don’t sit here.

You didn’t really have anything against him, you just loved having a table all to yourself.

“Please..sit beside y/n, for now.”

Damn it.

Mark pulled the chair out and sat beside you.

“...hi.” He said as he placed his backpack down.

“Hi.” You raise your eyebrows and open your notebook.

You just had to sit next to the awkward new kid. Perfect.

��——

[Two Weeks Later]

You and Mark worked on your first project together. You had to come up with a presentation for the fall science fair, so you had to work well together.

“It’s a chance for you guys to get to know each other and build yourselves!” Your teacher said excitedly but the truth was that you weren’t thrilled to be working with anyone.

You rolled your eyes and turned to Mark.

“Alright..where do we start?”

“Well, the instructions say to combine water and salt first, so I guess we’ll start there.” Mark puts his round glasses on and smiles at you, but you frown.

“Okay, you’re the nerd so..” you raise your brows.

Mark chuckled. “We barely know each other.”

“Come on, who in the world wears glasses like that, You look like Harry Potter.”

“I love that movie, is that a bad thing?” Mark asked with genuine confusion.

“Harry Potter is great and all, but what horror movies do you like?” You started to doodle in your notebook.

You loved horror movies, you loved autumn and everything dark and dreary about it.

“Hmmm..I don’t watch horror movies..”

You gasp and drop your pen. “You don’t..watch horror movies?” Your eyes widened like you had been hurt deeply by his lack of taste.

He returned the same look of shock. “They’re not my thing.”

“Aish..what a loser..” you say under your breath.

You turned back to your notebook and continued to doodle.

“So where are you from anyway, Potter?”

“I’m from Toronto.”

“I see, and this little town looked appealing to your parents, didn’t it?”

He nods and looks at the side of your face, noting how under your bleak persona and poor attitude, was a pretty face and gentle touch. He could tell from the way you delicately drew in your book.

His senses also picked up on your relaxed blood pressure and steady breathing.

He saw every pore and heard every breath you took, your lashes looked extremely long as well, bringing about a dazzling gorgeousness to your eyes.

The very surface of your round lips was soft and plump, there was a shade new to him that rested at the center.

“Mark?” You turned to him.

He quickly looked away and shifted in his chair.

“Y-yeah..I’m living with my aunt here..my parents passed away a while ago.”

“Oh..I’m sorry..” you looked down at the table.

“Hey. You don’t have to feel bad about it..”

Mark smiled softly as he heard your heart rate speed up from nervousness.

“Mark..I-“ the bell rang and you thanked the heavens for it.

Mark turned and grabbed his bag before you could say anything else. “Well, I’ll catch ya later.”

“‘CaTcH yA LAtEr’” you mocked him to lighten the mood. “Yeah, Potter, I guess we’ll work more next time..”

He laughed.

His eyes became small lines and his cheeks puffed up, he was adorable, like a kid in a candy store.

You turned away before your face became hot.

———

[1 Month Later]

“The new kid is kinda cute..” Haechan took a sip of his juice while the two of you ate lunch.

“God, I wish I was in your class, do you think the counselor will change my class schedule now if I come up with a dumb excuse?”

You rolled your eyes. “Nah, I don’t think she will, and even if she did, why would you want to be in a class with that nerd?”

Mark was sitting by himself at a table in the corner, he was reading a book while chewing chicken tenders.

Haechan pouted. “But just look at him..I bet he’s the best kisser, do you see those lips?”

“Ew Haechan! He’s my partner in class, I don’t want to think about his lips!” You gagged and started to peel your banana.

Mark could hear you, he could hear everyone’s conversations in the cafeteria for little did you know of his secret.

“So you’re telling me you wouldn’t give him a chance, even though you gave a notorious school douchebag named Jeno one?” Haechan glared at you.

You kicked his shin under the table. “We don’t say that name here anymore.”

Haechan hissed. “You’re closer than I’ll ever be to that cutie..you better take advantage of that, I bet he’s super nice too.” He rested his chin in his hands as he swooned over Mark.

You rolled your eyes then locked eye contact with Mark just as you stuffed the banana into your mouth. You were frozen. The banana was about halfway in and Mark never let your eyes go.

You chomped on it and looked away.

Mark giggled and went back to reading his book.

“You open your mouth pretty wide for a girl that doesn’t know how to use it..” Jeno snickered as he walked by your table.

Your mouth was full so you couldn’t come up with a quick comeback, but luckily, that’s what Haechan was there for.

“Oh, shut up, big head. Like you could fill anyone’s mouth with that chicken nugget of a wee wee!”

You nearly choked and covered your mouth as you laughed.

Mark, who was over 30 feet away, laughed too.

Jeno quickly turned around to walk back to your table, but ended up colliding into Taeyong, the scary and filthy rich senior that everyone stayed away from.

Him and his posse, complete with Yuta and Johnny, were tall seniors that gave everyone death glares. Even the teachers weren’t safe. Taeyong’s father was the wealthiest man in town, he was a kingpin so he possessed a lot of power.

Jeno raised his hands. “Whoa, bro, I’m sorry.”

Taeyong steadied himself and pulled his hands out of his pockets. The entire cafeteria froze, you all had never seen anyone get in their way. Taeyong walked around in black clothing and never took his hands out of his pockets for it ruined his nonchalant attitude.

The black haired boy crossed his arms and stepped towards Jeno.

“If I were in the mood..I’d tell you to get on your knees and beg for my forgiveness..” his intense gaze made Jeno tremble. Hell, even you swallowed hard from fear.

“I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”

Taeyong’s mouth tilted into a smile, he rubbed his thumb along the side of Jeno’s face. Johnny and Yuta stood behind him while they smirked and chuckled at Jeno’s subordinance.

“I know it won’t.”

He walked away and out of the cafeteria.

Jeno scurried back to his group of friends while the rest of the students resumed their lunch.

Mark didn’t like the sound of this guy. He knew who his father was and he knew that he would be the only that could stop him and save the innocent lives threatened by him.

Later that day, you were getting ready to leave school when Haechan popped up behind your locker as you closed it.

“Shit!” You jumped when he popped up.

He cackled. “You know, for someone that watches a lot of horror films, you sure do get scared pretty easily.”

You huffed and swung your backpack over your shoulder. You didn’t notice Mark behind you and your bag nearly smacked him in the face, but thanks to his senses, he ducked quickly.

“Y/n!” Haechan saw Mark behind you.

“What?” You said as you turned.

Mark was there behind you, squatting below you awkwardly and looking up at your face.

You furrowed your brows. “What the hell are you doing? Are you trying to get a peak of something down there?”

Mark shot up straight and shook his head.

“N-no, no I’m sorry I was just..I know we are a little behind..but I was wondering if you wanted to work on the project together after..school, or-or something..” he looked nervous to talk to you. He kept looking to the side to dodge your eyes.

“I can’t today..I’m-“

Haechan butt in excitedly. “Oh! That works perfectly! Y/n, I was actually coming to tell you that I can’t go to the movies tonight! I have to do some extra work with my partner too! We can all study at Starbucks!”

You turned to him and glared. ‘What the hell’ you mouthed.

His eyes grew. ‘Just say yes’ he mouthed while nodding towards Mark.

Mark still looked to the side.

“Fine..meet us at the Starbucks on 10th at 5..loser.” You gripped the strap of your bag while walking away.

Mark chuckled at the nickname you gave him. He thought you were different, cute, but different.

At Starbucks, Mark was there before you were and ordered coffee for you.

“For me?” Your eyes widened.

Mark nodded and smiled widely. “Yeah! I don’t know if you like cream or sugar, so I got it black but everything is over there if you-“

You giggled and Mark swore he saw heaven when you smiled. “I know how it works, Mark, thank you for this.”

You rarely said his name, but he felt weak when you did.

Haechan and his lab partner joined the two of you. You did some more research for your project and talked about it while Mark jotted down important notes.

Haechan and his partner, Renjun, were supposed to be doing the same thing, but Haechan was too busy staring at Mark’s eyes.

“Haechan..Haechan!” Renjun tapped his hand.

They continued to work and as everyone got more tired, you noticed that Mark wasn’t jotting down notes like he did in the beginning. He was watching you talk, he liked watching your lips move and hearing your soothing voice. His eyes were locked on your face; it made your heart tremble.

“Mark?” You raised your brows and bit your bottom lip.

“Yeah..yeah!” He shook his head to come out of his daze.

“Did you catch anything I said? You've been staring for at least five minutes now..”

“I was..focusing.” Mark averted his gaze to the ceiling.

You shook your head. “You’re weird, Potter.”

Mark licked his lips and looked at the table. “I’m sorry I’m just a bit tired..”

“Me too! I think we should call it a night!” Haechan stretched his arms out and up high.

He cleared his throat as you all started to pack your things away.

“Mark..so we’re all going to the movies to see that new horror film, “Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark” tomorrow. Wanna come?”

You kicked his shin again.

“Mark doesn’t like horror movies.”

Mark scratched the back of his head. “Well, I only said I don’t watch them, not that I don’t like them..”

You sighed.

“Perfect! So we’ll see you tomorrow at 8! This is so exciting, it feels like a date!”

“Haechan!” You stood up from the table, glaring into his skull once again.

He shrugged his shoulders and stood up too. The four of you walked towards the door.

Mark only laughed awkwardly.

“Hey.. y/n..”

You paused and turned around. “Yeah?”

“Will you be alright..getting home at this time?”

You laughed out. “I’m fine..I take the bus at this time all the time!”

Mark nodded.

He was caring and it was strange for you, for someone to genuinely care about you for the first time in a while.

He had his own car. An old Hyundai that got him where he needed to be. He had parked it outside of the Starbucks.

He waited with you at the bus stop right outside. Haechan took Renjun home.

“We can wait in my car if you want..it’s kinda cold out here.” He asked as you pushed your hands into your hoodie and shivered.

“My mother told me to never get in cars with strangers.” You turned to him and smiled.

He chuckled and stepped forward on his toes.

“Well, if that’s what you consider me to be then..I won’t push you..”

You shook your head. “Mark..you’re weird..I was just teasing, take me to your chariot before I freeze to death, please.”

You got into his car and the two of you sat in silence.

You checked your phone and saw that your bus was running about 20 minutes late.

You sighed and leaned back into his car seat.

“Do you like this town so far?” You looked out the window as you spoke.

Mark loved being near you, you calmed him down and his senses didn’t go crazy like they usually did. Sometimes everything was so unbearable, but not when he was around you. He was happy that no one was in danger while he spent the evening with you.

“It’s..alright..” he spoke honestly, finding it difficult to lie about how he struggled to adjust to his new life, without his uncle, without his hometown friends, without his “normal, super power-less” life. He had been bitten by a spider and given these powers just a few months before moving.

“Do you miss your friends?”

“Of course..” he swallowed hard as he remembered playing basketball with his buddies.

“And your girlfriend..”

You let it slip out before thinking. Why did you care?

“Oh, I don’t have a girlfriend..”

You turned to him with bunched up brows. “Boyfriend?”

Mark giggled. “I don’t have either..why do you ask?”

He smirked as he tilted his head.

You scoffed. “Oh, Potter, don’t give me that look..I just wanna know more about you.”

“What about you? Tell me about yourself.”

You swallowed hard. “Well..I think this town is boring..my parents are divorced and missing half the time..I broke up with my asshat of a boyfriend, Jeno, before school started..and now I’m stuck here with the school loser.”

“Stuck?” Mark raised his brows. “You can jump out any time you want and stand in the cold.”

You put your hand on the door handle but he quickly leaned over and placed his hand on yours. Your breath hit his neck. He turned to you with wide eyes as he realized that he was actually touching you.

You froze.

He froze as well. “I’m..I’m kidding, you shouldn’t leave until your bus gets here.”

He sat down in his seat and cleared his throat but you still felt his soft hand on your skin.

You chuckled. “You’re so strange, Mark. I guess it’s a Canada thing.”

“I like..spending time with you, if I’m being honest. I don’t have many friends here but you’re..cool.”

You turned to him. “Cool?? You think I’m cool?”

Mark put his head on the steering wheel and sighed, realizing the mistake he made. “Why did I say that?”

“Haha! Potter! You can’t take it back!”

The two of you spoke about music and entertainment. You told Mark that you were happy to see that he was going to try a horror movie with you tomorrow. You finally opened up to him as he did to you also.

You both laughed and genuinely enjoyed each other’s company.

He was a breath of fresh air in this town.

————

[The Next Day]

“It’s going to start in 5 minutes, where is he?” Haechan huffed as he looked at his watch.

You stood at the front of the movie theatre and looked around for Mark, but he was nowhere to be found. Was he really ditching you? You bought him a ticket and popcorn which had gotten cold by now. The ads that played before the movie were almost done. Haechan gave up and went into the theatre with Renjun. You stood there alone, awkwardly waiting like someone that was being stood up for their date. You looked at your phone but there were no texts or calls from Mark.

“Hey, I know you..” a voice spoke out from behind you.

You felt a sense of relief.

That was, until you turned and saw him.

Taeyong stood there with his hands in his midnight black trench coat, his hair was neatly parted to the side and two gold chains dazzled around his pretty neck.

“Are you alone?” He stepped towards you, a chill ran through your body and it wasn’t because of the temperature outside.

Your face fell, you stepped backwards away from him.

“I’m—I’m fine, thank you.”

Taeyong smirked when he saw your face of worry. He looked smug, dangerously handsome and cool.

“Whoever it is you’re waiting for...they’d be a fool not to show up..” his voice was deep, giving you goosebumps as you stared.

Was he flirting with you?

You laughed awkwardly.

A girl in a thin black body con dress walked up to him and grabbed his arm.

“Ready, babe?” She flipped her hair as she stared at him, but he still looked at you.

You felt bad for her. Yeah, she looked good, but at the cost of freezing in 20°F weather? Not even a gorgeous man like Taeyong was worth that.

“Sure..” he said smoothly.

They both walked into the theatre. You followed soon after. You found Haechan and Renjun and joined them. Haechan gave you a questioning look but you shook your head.

Mark never showed up.

He was too busy stopping a robbery downtown. It was him against 7 heavyweight champions trying to rob a bank. They were Kingpin’s men, but Mark used his web to bind them to the counters until police came.

By the time he finished, the movie was almost halfway done.

He sighed and grabbed his mask off while in a dark alleyway. He unlocked his phone.

You to Mark: where are you, loser? The popcorn is getting cold.

He smiled to himself. You got him popcorn, one of his faves.

You to Mark: gonna eat this by myself if you don’t show..

The next text message was a picture of Sour Patch Kids candy, the watermelon kind that he also loved.

You actually remembered him telling you he liked watermelons one day in class.

He closed his eyes and cursed quietly. He wanted to get close to you, but he was already messing things up.

————

[The Following Monday]

You threw your backpack down and sat in your seat in class.

Mark walked in soon after.

“You ignored my texts..” he said softly.

You ignored him and put your Bluetooth earbuds in.

He sighed then looked at his notebook.

“So you’re just not gonna talk to me?”

You bobbed your head and started writing as music played.

Mark looked around. Everyone had their heads down, they were either writing in their books or reading. So he put his hand behind his back, he quickly shot a web out to your ear bud. It malfunctioned and suddenly stopped working.

You took it out and looked at it.

“What the hell..” you whispered, genuinely confused as to why it burnt up while actually in your ear.

“Listen, I’m sorry I didn’t show up on Friday, but something happened..I wanted to be there, and—“

You finally turned to him. “Yeah, you chickened out. I’m sure you had better plans for your Friday night than to watch a stupid horror movie with me.”

Mark frowned. “No, no it’s not like that at all.” He wanted to be there with you and watch your face as you enjoyed something dear to you, he wanted to share popcorn and gummies, but those moments are a part of normal life for a normal teenager. He couldn’t have that.

“Really?” You raised your brows and placed your head in your hand. “I know what being second place in someone’s life feels like, Mark. It’s the same crap my parents and my ex put me through..I won’t go through it again.”

Mark shook his head and leaned towards you.

“I’m not like them, I’m here for you, give me a second chance..”

“Hey! Less talking about the weekend, more writing about science!” Your teacher called out.

When class ended, Mark followed you through the halls.

“I had something personal to take care of, y/n. Can we see a movie tomorrow or something?”

You shook your head and gripped the strap of your backpack. “There aren’t any movies out right now that I’m interested in..”

“Okay, umm how about a pumpkin patch?!”

You turned to him with wide eyes. “What are we? 10 years old?” You scoffed and turned to walk then bumped into someone’s broad chest.

You looked up slowly. It was him. “Oh..I’m sorry.” You exhaled.

“Be careful, I might just bite next time..” Taeyong’s smile gave you the creeps. It bothered you that you were seeing him more frequently.

Mark took your hand suddenly. “Hey..we’re gonna be late.” He spoke firmly and glared before taking you out of Taeyong’s sight.

Mark kept pressing you for a second chance as you continued to walk to the cafeteria.

“Okay, fine. Umm there’s this Halloween party this Friday, I don’t really want to go, but-“

“Let’s go! We can get something to eat after, my treat!”

You nodded quickly just so he’d leave you alone.

“Okay, Mark, let’s just get through this week.”

———

[Friday Night]

Haechan helped you out of his car when you got to the party. You wore a tight white dress and a feathery halo along with a small pair of wings.

You looked amazing with glittery makeup and white heels as your accessories.

Haechan dressed as a zombie and did a spectacular job on his makeup. He looked like he had really been bitten on the neck and the virus had spread throughout, leaving him grey with purple and green veins throughout his face.

You pulled your dress down and waited in the kitchen for Mark.

You grabbed yourself a beer and cracked it open.

Haechan drank with you as well.

He swallowed hard. “The nice refreshing taste of piss.”

“Yup, seems about right.” You winced and put the can down.

“Well, well..it seems the Virgin angel has arrived.” Jeno walked in behind you and grabbed a beer. He was dressed as a devil. The two of you had long since talked about dressing as the angel & devil pair for Halloween as a couple, but now that you had broken up, you didn’t think that he'd still do it.

You rolled your eyes. “What happened? Were your natural horns not enough?”

Jeno chuckled and tilted his head. “We’re playing 7 minutes in Heaven next..I’d ask you to join, but I know you’re just a teaser, never a pleaser.”

You scoffed, but Haechan jumped in.

“That’s what your little friend over there said last night when you pulled your pants down.”

Jeno flipped him the bird and walked away.

You went to the bathroom and checked your makeup. You looked wonderful, your boobs stuck out and your dress hugged your curves perfectly. You rarely dressed like this but it was nice to look and feel..pretty., you quickly fixed your lipstick and left.

As you turned the corner, you ran into him again.

“Ahhh..perfect timing, I did say I would bite you the next time we ran into each other.” Taeyong’s eyes widened.

You backed away and laughed.

He was dressed fittingly as a vampire. He was dark and mysterious like one, so you weren’t surprised. He looked even more handsome than usual in his dark eye makeup complete with black liner and red eyeshadow.

But the way he stared made you..uneasy.

His gaze trailed from your lips to your cleavage as he eyed you up and down.

You stood there in silence.

“Do you—“ he started to pose a question as he stepped forward but his girl walked up and hugged him from behind.

She squeezed him gently, but Taeyong looked annoyed. “Let’s go upstairs, baby…” she said lowly while looking into your eyes with an evil glare.

Haechan came and grabbed your hand. You turned away from the two love birds and followed him, never once worrying about what Taeyong had to say again.

“He’s here!” You heard Haechan gasp.

Mark walked in. He was wearing a...Spider-Man costume.

You giggled at how cute he looked in it. You saw his cute little butt as he spun around looking for you through the crowd in the house.

You raised your hand. “Mark!” You called out to him.

He finally saw you and started to walk over.

You couldn’t stop yourself from grinning. He was adorable as he giggled.

“Why Spider-Man?”

He shrugged. “Eh—I like the way my butt looks.”

You laughed and took his hand to the living room where a few people sat on the floor a circle.

They spun a bottle and whoever it landed on would be placed in a closet for 7 minutes in heaven.

Two members from the group were missing so you and Mark took their spots as they did whatever they were doing in the closet. He helped you squat down while pulling your dress down your thighs.

You rolled your eyes as Jeno held his new girl crush close to him. If he wanted to be with her in the closet, why did he sit beside her? You thought to yourself.

Everyone took turns spinning the bottle and when it got to you, you spun it fast, hoping that it wouldn’t land on someone that you knew, that way it would be just as awkward for the both of you.

Mark watched the bottle spin and based on the speed and rotation of the beer bottle, he knew that one end would end up pointing to you and the other would point to..Jeno.

As it spun, he placed his hand behind his back.

He looked up and pointed to the kitchen with his other hand.

“Oh my god, what is that?!” He yelled, causing everyone to turn to look at whatever he was pointing at.

You turned as well, so Mark quickly shot a small squirt of his web to increase the speed a little.

“What are you talking about?” You asked when you turned back to him. Everyone else turned back too.

“Oh, I could’ve sworn I saw a rat..maybe it was a decoration.” He shrugged his shoulders.

The bottle slowed down to a halt and just as you dreaded. It landed on you and..Mark.

Jeno laughed out loudly.

“What’s so funny?” Mark gave him a look of annoyance.

“It’s just that..she’s the biggest prude I know, good luck bro, she doesn’t give it up.”

“Maybe because she doesn’t want to..I mean, have you thought about how much of an asshole you are?” Haechan spat out.

Mark looked at you as you stared at him with wide eyes.

“Y/n..you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to..”

Jeno chuckled again.

You didn’t really want to be this close with Mark, but you had to. You had to prove Jeno wrong, even if you and Mark did nothing but stare at each other. You wanted Jeno to know that you weren’t a prude like he thought.

You stood up and nodded. “Let’s go..”

The two of you stood in the tight closet awkwardly.

The light was dim, but you saw Mark’s features clearly. His dainty nose and high cheekbones, his wide eyes and cute lips. He looked to the side nervously.

The truth was, you looked amazing in your dress. He felt his face become warm when he looked at your cleavage. The glitter made your skin sparkle even more than it usually did.

“So…” you stepped up and down. “I’m glad you came..”

“I’m glad I came too.” He swallowed hard. “Oh.. that, uhh, sounded weird, I’m sorry..”

“Mark..” you giggled. “You don’t have to be awkward, it’s me..it’s just that I’m wearing tight clothing for once..”

He chuckled and looked into your eyes. He raised an eyebrow, making your stomach weak.

“It’s not just that..” his voice is lower, quieter so no one can hear the two of you.

“What is it then?” You smirk.

He stares at your lips and as he’s about to answer a red alarm blares out in his head. His senses are tingling, someone is in trouble.

He squints and turns away. “I-i have to go…”

You step forward. “What? Are you..okay?”

You place your hands on his shoulder.

He loves the touch but can’t stop this nagging feeling. He had to go where his mind told him to go, he had to tend to whatever needed him or else he'd go insane from the noise.

“I can’t explain it, it’s like a migraine, I..just have to go.”

He turns to head through the closet door but you step in front of him.

“Mark, if you leave it’ll just prove Jeno right. Please just 5 more minutes, I’m sure you can stand being with me for just that.”

“I can’t. I have to go.”

You scoff and continue to block the door. “What? Do you have to run home to your aunt or something? Are you out too late?”

Mark shakes his head. “Y/n..it’s not that, I just—“

“Gotta be a good boy and go home now?” You teased him to buy time. You really didn’t want Jeno to gain any satisfaction from learning that the two of you did nothing.

“Y/n..” he looked intensely into your eyes. His eyes then floated down to your lips as he watched you nag at him.

“Mark, what is it with you? You bailed on me last time! Do you hate being around me or what?”

He took your face in his hands and kissed you hard and sudden.

Your back hit the closet door causing it to swing open.

But Mark didn’t care, he still held your face close to his and caressed your mouth. You closed your eyes and enjoyed the feeling of him on you. The way his tongue traced over your bottom lip for permission to enter, the way his nose poked your cheek.

You opened your mouth and turned your head to deepen the kiss.

Sparks flew between you and you both felt giddy. Blood rushed through your veins. Mark’s senses were calmed for a bit as they focused on what he felt right now with you. The building tension and the satisfying release.

You fell into him more and more. Even as the others cheered while watching, the two of you were consumed by each other.

You feel butterflies flying around without any intention of stopping and then..he pulls away. Your eyes open and you see your red lipstick all over the handsome boy’s mouth, confirming that what felt like a wonderful dream was actually a reality.

He stares at you through low eyes and licks his lips while panting.

Your lips are still parted while you too breathe heavily.

Your eyes are round and beg for more. Mark wants it too.

You look at his lips and lean forward, but he backs away and swallows hard.

“Catch ya later!” He runs out of the house as you stand there in shock.

Haechan’s mouth falls open.

“Oh...shit.”

———-

[The Next Day]

Taeyong listened to his father complain about the new superhero in town while at dinner.

“I don’t know where this little shit came from but he’s ruining EVERYTHING. We can’t get a simple delivery done without him popping up.”

Kingpin slams his fork down.

“He shoots a web here, he shoots a web there, and suddenly, my men are down and out! Tell me how that makes sense?”

“I’m sure they will stop him soon, he’ll get tired and give up.” Taeyong’s mother continued eating.

“Christ, I’m stressed and then we get a call from your teacher saying that you’re not showing up for class?!”

His father turned his attention to him while pointing a finger.

Taeyong shrugged.

“What the hell you moving your shoulders for? Answer me!”

Taeyong puts his fork down and sighs. “That class is a waste of time..”

“No, the only thing that’s being wasted is MY time and MY effort to get you to good college, you think I want you to end up like me?” His father’s voice rose.

“Is that such a bad thing?” A smirk fell across Taeyong’s face, irritating his father.

“Listen to me, boy, you could never handle the shit i handle, so DONT even think about it. You take your sorry ass to class and you graduate and go to college. Make something of that pea-sized brain of yours.”

“Honey..” his mom placed her hand on his father’s, but he lifted it and waved her off.

“Don’t! He’s like this because you spoil him. He’s a spoiled little brat.”

Taeyong continued eating, he was used to being insulted by his father.

“Dont speak like that, you’re just stressed because of Spider-Man, dear.”

“Shut it! You know that it’s true, you know he’s worthless!”

He stood up and gave Taeyong a frightening glare.

“You got one chance to prove me wrong, boy, make one more mistake and you’re out and on the streets with the druggies!” He huffed and left the dining room.

Taeyong sat quietly, gripping his fork in his fist and thinking about what to do. How could he prove to his father that he would be able to take over the business?

———-

[Monday]

You didn’t say a word to Mark for the first few minutes of class.

It was awkward but Mark didn’t seem to be bothered. He simply did his work in his notebook while listening to his music.

While the teacher was busy, you turned to him.

“Mark?” You whispered and leaned forward to get his attention.

“Mark?”

He still moved his head to the music.

You tapped his shoulder.

He turned to you with large eyes and took his headphones out.

“Yeah?” He said innocently.

“What do you mean by “yeah?” Are we not going to talk about the party?”

Mark smirked. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You nodded. “Mark, what was that about?” You knew what it was, you felt it every time you looked at each other. You had a developing crush on the boy you called a loser, you were just trying to hide it but it was becoming difficult as he was perfect in every way.

His cute eyes, nice lips, beautiful brown hair..you loved it all.

But most of all, you loved how sweet and caring he was, how he spoke to you and made you feel like you were the center of the universe as his entire focus rested on you.

He licked his lips. “I...did that to help you prove your boyfriend wrong.”

You blinked rapidly. “That was the only reason?”

“Um..yeahhh.” Mark looked to the side and moved his head in a “duh” motion.

“Oh..okay..” you looked down at your notebook and continued writing, feeling disappointed. But what did you expect? For Mark to confess his love for you? What a bizarre thought. You shook it off.

Later that day when you were at lunch, Haechan asked you about Mark.

“So what did he say?” He asked with his mouth full.

“He said he was just covering for me.” You shrugged your shoulders.

“Ahhh..I doubt it though, you guys made out like..really made out, it was sexy. If I knew you could kiss like that, I would’ve kissed you a long time ago.” he raises his eyebrows.

You made a look of disgust. “Ew! As if!”

You and Haechan giggled and continued eating.

You looked over at Mark’s usual eating spot in the cafeteria, but he wasn’t there.

“Where’s that big head, Jeno?” Haechan tilted his head when he realized that Jeno didn’t pass by for his usual snarky comment session.

“Hmm that’s a good question, I don’t see Mark either.”

“Oooo..are you waiting for a round two with him?” Haechan teased, but something didn’t feel right.

You stood up. “Hey, I’ll be right back.”

Haechan nodded and you turned away to walk around the halls.

You peaked down all of the corridors looking for him.

You eventually went outside to the soccer field and heard whimpering behind the bleachers.

You walked towards it and saw three boys gathered around another boy in the middle. The boy in the middle was crouching down and holding his stomach.

You walked faster.

“Give me his glasses!” You heard one of the boys say.

“He had these ugly things on and still couldn’t see us coming..”

You recognized the voice.

It was Jeno. As you got closer you saw Jeno raise his foot to kick at the boy on the ground, and to your surprise, it was Mark.

“Shit…” you ran closer, but Mark grabbed Jeno’s foot and threw him to the floor.

Your eyes grew as Jeno’s back pummeled down into the ground with so much force, you swore the floor shook. How was Mark that strong?

Jeno groaned in pain. The other two boys stared in shock before turning back to Mark and delivering blows to his chest.

Mark couldn’t take on the two of them.

“I don’t want to hurt you!” He called out to them, he was holding back for their safety.

“Hey!” You yelled as you got closer.

“Oh..look who showed up..the school slut..” Jeno said as he stood up straight and winced from the pain in his back.

“You gave it up to the new guy, y/n? Wow, I guess you are like your mother..”

“Hey!” Mark called out to him, but the other two boys held him up by the arms to keep him from hitting Jeno again. Jeno balled his fists up and was about to hit Mark in the chest.

“You’re an asshole, Jeno!” You ran up to him and swung hard, landing a clean punch to the side of his unexpecting face.

“Hey, what the hell is going on here?!” Vice Principal Kim called out.

“Shit.” You held your hand as a stinging pain shot through it.

The two boys let go of Mark and ran, leaving you, Mark, and Jeno to the mercy of the vice principal.

You sat in detention with a wrapped hand. Mark sat a few desks behind you and Jeno sat in front with a pretty black eye.

You are proud of yourself for doing something you should’ve done to him long ago.

You watched the clock tick for an hour as you sat there with nothing to do.

Mark felt terrible for getting you involved, he would’ve handled it on his own but you jumped in to help him and now you were hurt.

After detention, you grabbed your backpack and left without talking to Mark.

“Hey..” he ran up to you.

“Hey..I’m sorry..about that, I didn’t want you to get involved..”

“It’s not your fault, Mark, it’s just that..I’d rather be alone right now..” you had to walk home after missing the last bus.

“I’ll drive you home, it’s the least I can do.”

You turned to him and raised your brows.

“Without your glasses? Can you even see my face right now?”

Mark laughed. “Actually..I have something to tell you…”

“Go on..”

“I don’t need the glasses, I just like it when you call me Potter.”

A smile creeped across your face as you felt it become warm. You couldn’t help but laugh.

Mark drove you home as the two of you talked about Jeno’s look of shock.

“His face was priceless!” Mark scrunched his nose up and laughed gloriously.

You enjoyed watching him laugh, and without his glasses, he looked even more handsome.

You reached home and sighed. “Ahh..great, now I have to explain to my parents why my hand is swollen..”

Mark lifted your wrapped hand gently. “How does it feel? Does it hurt?” He bunched his brows up.

“And if it did, could you take the pain away?” You smirked.

Mark nodded. “I wish I could..”

“It’s fine, I’ll be fine, I took boxing class in the 9th grade..” you teased him but his eyes widened.

“Boxing class?! That is so cool!”

You giggled. “Mark, you’re so gullible!”

“Oh..” he looked down in defeat and blushed.

A moment of silence rested between the two of you.

You stared at his lips. “Well..I should get going..”

Mark parked across the street from your house so your parents wouldn’t see you coming out of a strange car.

You unbuckled yourself seat belt.

“Hey..” Mark said softly.

You turned back to him and watched his parted lips.

He leaned in closer as you swallowed hard. He was so close, just a few more inches.

Your phone rang out and you looked down.

Shit, Haechan texted you.

Mark smiled and leaned back into his seat. “I’m sorry, um..thanks again.”

“You’re welcome, Potter.” You winked and got out of the car.

He got out of the car and watched you head home.

But his spidey senses started to blare, something was coming, but you were texting on your phone as you crossed the street.

Everything happened in slow motion. The pick up truck speeding towards you, the steps you took to cross the road. You were moving too slow.

He had calculated it all. If he ran to you, he’d be too late, if he jumped in front of the truck he’d be too late and he’d get hurt.

There was only once thing he could do given the amount of time he had.

He stretched his arm out, flicked his wrist and shot a long sticky string out to your back. Once it latched itself onto your jacket, he yanked you back hard.

The truck sped by right in front of your eyes as you gripped your phone and looked up. You didn’t know what was happening or why you were flying backwards all of a sudden.

Your heart races, but soon you were in Mark’s arms. The truck came to a screeching halt once the driver realized that he almost hit you.

He spun you around to face him, not realizing that you were now entangled in his web.

You look terrified. “M-Mark..what the—“ you were out of breath, you looked down and saw the strings coming out of his skin.

Mark’s eyes widened as he looked down as well. The truck sped off after realizing that you were okay. It was just the two of you now, standing there in shock.

“Y/n…”

You let out a shakey breath. “Y-You're..him..You're—“

He put a finger over his lips. “Shhh..you can’t tell anyone.”

“S-spider-Man? THE Spider-Man??”

Mark nodded slowly.

Your mouth dropped.

“Promise me you won’t tell anyone.” Mark looked into your eyes and pleaded, his arms still held you tight to his chest.

You nodded but no sound came out.

He licked his lips and smiled. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way.”

“Mark..holy shit, I’m gonna..”

“Please don’t pass out on me, I don’t want to carry you to your parents while you’re unconscious..”

“But Mark..I mean, you’re like.. a superhero..that’s so cool.” You grinned and still looked at him through surprised eyes.

Mark blushed. “You think I’m cool?”

“Oh, my God why did I say that?” You rolled your eyes.

Mark looked at your lips and it was your time to kiss him.

You placed your lips on his while taking his face in your hands. He hugged you tighter and kissed you back, diving into you like you were a breath of fresh air that he needed. You both closed your eyes and embraced the moment as your pulses ran fast and eventually matched.

You stood there for a few minutes while kissing and hugging like you were in a movie.

Neither you nor Mark noticed a car that was parked 50 feet away.

But not just anyone’s car, Taeyong’s car.

He had trailed Mark’s car after he saw the two of you leaving school. He had nothing better to do and just wanted to see what the two of you were up to, but then he saw how the web shot out of Mark’s hand quickly and how you flew back into him. He saved your life, all while thinking that no one would see him.

But he was wrong, and now Taeyong knew what he needed to do.

———

[The Next Week]

You and Mark hadn’t things official yet, you both were scared for what would happen to your friendship. But that didn’t mean that you didn’t want to kiss him for hours on end.

Mark felt the same way. You had been paired up with someone else at a different table in class. The two of you were now departed and he wasn’t happy about that so he made sure to keep an eye on you.

You finally ate together too. Haechan had his suspicions when he saw the two of you smiling at each other for no reason, but he didn’t say anything.

Then one day, you didn’t show up to class.

Mark texted you the entire night before and even sent you tik toks to laugh at. He knew you were fine and if you were skipping class, you’d definitely let him know. You didn’t respond to the texts he sent during the day.

His spidey senses tingled, he knew something was up.

He called you while at lunch. And to his surprise, you answered.

“Y/n? Where are you?”

There was silence over the line for a brief moment, then you sniffled. “Hey, Mark. I’m home today, I just needed..a break.”

Mark paused. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing, Mark, I’ll see you later. Please don’t come and look for me.”

“H-“ he started but you had already hung up.

He pursed his lips and looked intensely at his screen. Something was definitely up and he wasn’t going to stop until he found out what it was.

So after his last class, he headed to your house and knocked at the door.

When you didn’t answer, he walked around the house, looking for a way to get in without causing any damage.

He eventually found an open window on the second floor and after looking around to make sure no one was watching, he climbed up the side of the house and entered through it.

He stood up straight and saw that he was in your room, but you weren’t there.

Then he saw what looked to be a body under the blanket on your bed.

“Y/n?”

He quickly lifted the blanket and jumped in horror. It was a slide-sized Spider-Man action figure.

He had a sticky note on his face that pressed “press my belly button.”

Mark pressed the button and heard it speak through its fake mouth.

“Oh, hello, Spider-Man, or should I call you Mark?”

His eyes widened as the male voice spoke.

“Well..it doesn’t really matter..see, I’ve got your lovely girlfriend here with me..”

Mark here’s your muffled screaming in the background.

He grits his teeth.

“And she is here, waiting for you at the very top of the largest building in the city. I know you’re new here, but I’m sure you can find it.”

Mark curses to himself, he was caught with you and by some bastard that he didn’t know. Did Kingpin have his men follow him?

“Oh, and that nice friend of her’s, hmmm Haechan is it? He’s outside her house, but he’s probably all tied up.. don’t be late, Markipoo, we wouldn’t want y/n to hang out with me much longer..”

The recording stops playing. Mark runs out of the house, but stops in his tracks.

He’s too late.

Johnny and Yuta stand beside Haechan’s car. Haechan has JI mouth covered by a piece of fabric but his eyes are open and wet with tears.

He lets out a loud scream when he hears Mark.

They tied him to the hood of the car while the engine runs. He was literally tied up.

“Hey!” Mark calls out and runs towards them, but Johnny places a brick onto the gas pedal and puts the car in drive.

Haechan screams even louder as the car rolls down the hill fast.

Mark runs after it, struggling to keep up as it speeds down the street.

Johnny and Yuta stand back and laugh.

Mark had to find a way to beat, he had to calculate his speed so he could overrun it and stop it. Or he could shoot webs out from the back and pull it towards him.

His mind runs at 100mph as it goes through every possibility while he pants and runs.

“Haechan! Don’t worry! I’ve got you!”

The car is too heavy, and it’s going too fast, so he can’t hold it with his spiderweb material.

He leaps forward and up into the air, landing just a few feet in front of the incoming car.

He puts his hands in front of him and braces for impact. He had never taken on such a huge task before, he prayed that he would be strong enough to take a 4,000 pound car going at 80 miles per hour.

He grunts and presses forward onto the top of the car, causing it to make a loud skrrt sound and a huge dent to form. He uses his legs for stability as he struggles to stop it from going any further.

But he slides downward in his two feet.

“Shit.shit.shit.shit” he murmurs out.

Haechan cries to the heavens for help.

Mark pushes forward even harder while gritting his teeth. He lifts the hood slightly.

With a loud groan and harsh grip, he tears the engine out to stop the car.

The wheels slow to a halt and Mark places the car down.

He stumbles on his feet and nearly passes out, but he had to keep moving, he had to find you.

So he quickly puts his mask on before people come outside of their homes to see what the ruckus is about, then he unties Haechan.

“Oh my God..oh my God, what the hell?!”

Haechan panics and shakes.

“Mark, you’re—you’re..the guy..”

“Haechan, we can talk about this later. What is the tallest building and where can I find it?”

Haechan points in the direction of the tallest building in the town. It’s 1,000 feet high and is owned by none other than Kingpin.

Mark’s eyes narrowed as he clenched his jaw.

He swings through town quickly to get to you.

Once at the building, he decided that it would be faster to climb.

Meanwhile, Taeyong has you tied up and gagged.

Tears stream down your face.

“It’s such a shame things had to be this way..I kinda liked you.” Taeyong strokes your cheek with his thumb.

His phone rings.

“What is it?”

“He should be there soon.”

You hear a man’s voice say on the other line.

Taeyong gives a devilish smile and looks back at you as he hangs up.

“Perfect.” He winks.

He steps forward to you and takes your bound wrists in his hand. He takes your gag off with the other.

“Would you like to beg for your life now?”

“Fuck you, Taeyong! I never did anything to you!”

Taeyong smiles when you curse. “You’re right. All you did was go to class and look pretty...oh and decide to date a superhero. You had to expect us to use you as leverage.”

You shook your head. “Taeyong, you’re not like your father, you’re better than him! Please don’t do this.”

Wind blew your hair back as Taeyong had opened one of the floor-to-ceiling windows on the top floor.

Taeyong’s smile fell when you mentioned his father.

“I know I’m better than him, sweetheart, I get right to the source of my problems.”

He strokes your cheek again. “You know..you’re a lot prettier when you don’t speak, but right now..I want you to scream for me.”

He suddenly pushes you out the window but grabs the end of the rope that has tied your hands up.

You let out a blood curdling scream as you stare down as the tiny people and cars so far below you. You cry even harder.

“Just like that, sweetheart, you sound beautiful.”

He smirks and ties the rope to a pole to keep your body dangling.

“Mark!!” You cry out when you see him in his Spider-Man suit climbing up the building towards you.

“No! Don’t come any closer! It’s a trap!!” You try to stop him but Mark doesn’t stop, you’re right there and he has to get to you.

“The itsy bitsy spider went up the water spout..” Taeyong sings to himself as he picks up his father’s machine gun.

He aims it out of the window and at Mark.

“Down came the rain and washed the spider out.”

He pulls back on the trigger, allowing bullets to fly in the direction of the crawling Spider-Man.

“Mark!!” You cry out once again as Mark let’s go with one hand and dangles with the other. He quickly moves from side to side to dodge the bullets.

He regains his position and continues climbing.

“Oh, he’s a stubborn spider.” Taeyong grins and unloads on him again, this time never stopping.

He moves it from side to side to catch him.

A bullet flies right over Mark, breaking his suit and cutting his skin. He curses then looks back up.

He had to pay attention, he had to get to you.

Taeyong goes maniacal with the gun but he just can’t seem to get him.

He stops when he’s out of bullets and Mark is just a few feet away.

You think he’s given up because he’s lost, but Taeyong got just what he wanted.

“Okay, sweetheart..” he unties the rope from the pole and holds it in his hands. “It’s time to fly like the beautiful angel you are.”

You look back at him with wide eyes. “Taeyong!”

He lets go of the rope. You fall out through the window fast and past Mark.

Mark throws his head into your direction and leaps off of the building towards you.

He tries to fly down fast but he can’t keep up with your falling body, he’s so close but he can’t get to you.

You cry and think about your life, you never imagined this would be how you’d die.

You see Mark coming after you with all his strength, you know he’s doing his best. But it was impossible, there’s no way he’d get to you in time.

And so you felt yourself lose consciousness.

Your head fell back and your body fell limply.

“No, no, no, no don’t give up on me!” Mark yells and stretches his arms out, he shoots two strings from his wrists.

They latch onto you, he pulls back as hard as he can, your body flying into his arms as he still falls down the side of the building.

He spins around and shoots another string onto the building. His fall stops abruptly and his body flings itself into the glass. He holds you in his arms to protect you from the shattered glass.

You both fall onto the floor of an office. People jump up and yell in shock.

“Oh my god..it’s Spider-Man.” a few people say with gasps.

But Mark is focused on you. He doesn’t feel the pain from the impact, for his heart breaks for you. He unties your hands and holds one of them in his own.

“Y/n..y/n.. please talk to me..” leans over you and shakes you gently. Your body lies limply. Your mouth is slightly parted and your eyes are still closed. He hears a faint heartbeat.

He starts to tear up when you don’t respond.

“Y/n, I’m sorry..” he lifts his mask off and kisses you on the cheek.

He doesn’t care who sees him and can possibly expose his identity.

“Please..just wake up..tell me you’re okay..” he then kisses you on the lips.

Your eyes flutter open when you feel his soft lips on yours.

You place your hands on the side of his face, the people in the office clap and cheer.

You breathe him in before kissing him back. He pulls away and smiles down at you. His wavy brown hair hangs over your face and his eyes are teary.

“Are you crying, loser?” You give him a small smile.

Mark laughs and kisses you again.

Once you assured him that you were okay, Mark hunted Taeyong down at one of his father’s warehouses. Taeyong, Johnny, and Yuta waited there for him with a gun and several weapons, but they weren’t prepared for Spider-Man’s speed, strength, and agility, especially when all three were amplified by Mark’s anger. He gave them all an ass whooping they’d remember for the rest of their life, then had the cops come to arrest them. Mark didn’t go into much detail, but you knew that Kingpin, disappointed and hurt, disowned Taeyong and left him on his own to deal with his own actions.

When Taeyong tried to tell him who SpiderMan was, Kingpin called him a fool and deemed him mentally unstable, for a scrawny and nerdy kid with Harry Potter glasses couldn’t possibly have been the Spiderman that was kicking their asses.

Everyone thought Taeyong was crazy and Mark was never identified by the people in the office room.

Johnny and Yuta gave Taeyong up and admitted that they didn’t know who Spider-Man was, for if they had gone along with him, they’d only look crazy too.

Taeyong was arrested for attempted murder of both you and Haechan and sentenced to life in prison. He was tried as an adult and without the assistance of his wealthy father, didn’t stand a chance at getting away.

———

[December]

Finals were over and you could finally celebrate with Mark.

You joined him for the Winter Dance while dressed in a long, sleeveless icy blue dress.

“You look beautiful, like a princess.”

Mark blushed as he took your hand and led you to the dance floor.

You smiled and laughed out. He too looked dashingly handsome like a prince in his black suit and a bow tie that matched your dress. His hair was parted to the side and smoothed back, he didn’t have his glasses so he looked older, more mature.

The two of you swayed side to side. You laid your head on his shoulder and drank in the scent of his cologne. He smelled like flowers, his touch felt warm on your bare back.

There were stars decorating the dark gym in order to set the mood. White snowflakes also danced across the ceiling.

“I...have something to ask you..”

His low voice vibrates against your chest.

You raised your head and looked at all of the beauty marks on his neck and jaw. Funny enough, they were in all the places that you wanted to kiss.

“Yeah?”

Your soft voice makes him weak, he wants to hold you like this forever.

“Will you..” he clears his throat and glances down at you nervously. “..be my girlfriend?”

Your face lights up, you smile widely.

“I thought you’d never ask, Potter.” You kiss him on the lips and spend the rest of the night together.

1K notes · View notes

ryuichirou · 4 years ago

Note

Lord God Savior of All Ryu, I ask for but one noble request. lol i just wanna see all your AUs. Like, I always here about them in replies and stuff but I've almost never seen what they actually look like. So if you could just tag pics of them or doodle (they can be super bad 30 sec doodles too, it don't matter to me) them, I would be the happiest, most joyful little shit ever.

Anon!! Thank you for being so interested in our AUs and wanting to learn more about them. It was a very good excuse for us to go through the list of the AUs, doodle them, revisit some of the older ones, etc. So yeah, your wish is granted lol

Here’s the majority of them, we decided not to include those that we’ve barely talked about and thought out... I’ve put tags for those AUs where we have at least something posted. Most of them are something we haven’t even talked about at all and they don’t have a single sketch, but I liked drawing chibis for them way too much. Sorry, I used your ask lol

We have a general tag for our aus and specific ones for some of them, but sometimes an au from here is not tagged separately, so you might have to use this general tag...I tried to fix it, I don’t think I missed anything, so it should be ok now! ;w;

1. Space AU. It’s a story about a space expedition.. which turned out to be not exactly what everyone planned thanks to Erwin. What a commander!

2. Tribal AU. It’s a story about Eren becoming a part of the tribe where Erwin and Levi live.

3. Babysitter AU. Levi is a babysitter to Eren and Zeke, unfortunately for Zeke, who’s 17 and not exactly thrilled about being babied. Sometimes there’s kid Erwin too. We’ve never posted anything related to this AU, I think, and I don’t think we will. There’s another AU related to this one, but 19yo Eren from the paths (he has the memory of the manga events) keeps kid Eren company as an invisible ghost, while others think that kid Eren is cursed or something.

4. SnK AU. A classical one, where Eren has dreams about the plot of SnK, but when the story stops progressing, he decides to kidnap Levi to make the plot go on. Erwin finds out later... and keeps Levi in the basement because he wants to know the ending too lmao plus it’s hot.

5. Mines AU. Erwin gathered a team for his wonderful plan to find a treasure, but it’s not like the rest of the team needs to know where they’re really going. Zeke’s particularly terrified to find that out. Despite its name, they spend the majority of time in the forest. Also, there’s a timeskip of 11 years.

6. AU with Neetwin who’s a history teacher. We don’t tag this one though, it’s not like it’s our AU. So now it’s a Neetwin tag, although one of the drawings is with adult Levi... eh, who cares.

7. CC AU (cleaning company). Levi works in a cleaning company and cleans up Neetwin and hobo Eren’s apts. They need a lot of work. Yes, they make their apts even dirtier to make Levi spend more time there.

8. Prison AU. Damn this one is good... we came up with it before reading the timeskip in the manga, so Eren’s appearance doesn’t really match his age, he’s 17 lol Levi is a mafia member who goes to prison because he need to kill one of the inmates (who later became Zeke) on Erwin’s (Levi’s boss) request. Eren’s his personal guard, although Eren works as a regular guard too.

9. King Kong AU. It’s an AU where the Beast Titan is King Kong lmao Zeke is having fun killing dinosaurs... Levi, not so much. Thank Erwin for his wonderful plan of going to this island.

10. Rus AU, basically just characters living in Russia. Because ofc we will have this type of a setting... Damn, I thought we drew this one more often, huh.

11. Sea AU. Mainly our modern AU, we use it as a base for other modern stuff for the most part. Levi’s getting two boifrond rings, he lives with Erwin, Eren visits them often, Zeke bitches a lot, fun times with and without Zeke, stuff like that. There’s also a subplot (11.5) where Eren gets “kidnapped” by a witch, so Zevi have to find him and bring him back. Titans exist in this AU, Eren and Zeke are titans, and all of them have military training, but Erwin and Levi retired some time ago. We don’t have a tag for just a modern setting, though.

12. Cult AU. Eren lives on a farm and has a whole village of his followers. He also has cursed animals... and I think we’ve told about some of the plot points in replies. Erwin’s really into all this cult stuff because it affects reality for real, so he asks Levi to follow rituals, although Levi came to ask Eren to go back to normal life and finish the fucking school.

13. Serial killer AU. Eren’s a serial killer, duh. Never posted anything with this one, unfortunately, but Eren got disappointed in the police when he was a child, so he decided to fix the situation himself, while Erwin and Levi, as a part of a special department, investigate his “fixing”. It also has a time skip. I really need to redraw at least one sketch...

14. Hospital AU. Levi gets into Marley trying to make Eren go back, but it’s not that simple because Eren doesn’t want to lol Basically canonverse with this small change.

15. Hobo AU. Eren and Levi are hobos, Zeke wants his brother to stop living under a fucking bridge. Later Erwin takes both of them under his roof because he really likes Levi, but he can’t leave Eren alone.

16. Doggies AU. AU where Eren’s a wolf and Erwin’s a doggo. Levi got Erwin because he was a retiring trained dog and sniffed enough drugs in his life, and Eren... his “owner” found him on the streets and lied to Levi about Eren being a dog. Later Eren turned into a magnificent beast and now he doesn’t want to leave. There’s also Zeke, but he belongs to Xavier.

17. AU where Eren wants to become a mangaka. The first post is self-explanatory, although I’d probably make some changes now if I cared enough. There’s also a time skip where Eren ditched his manga and became hobo!Eren. His editor was pissed lol

18. Scolopendra Eren AU. You know the drill, and I’ve talked about the plot in some of the replies.

This post doesn’t show up on the tag for some reason.

19. Ghost Eren AU. I should’ve named it combini AU... Anyway, I’ve talked about this one a lot, although poor Erwin gets neglected a little bit lol it’s hard to compete with a ghost when you’re just a mere stalker... but a very invested one. Eren likes Erwin here, they’re vibing on the same malicious-towards-Levi wave.

20. Shark Eren AU. It’s just for us for funs, Eren’s a shark, and Levi’s there to help him fight depression. Eren later escapes into the sea.

21. Midsommar AU. Levi and Erwin get an invite to go to the village from Yelena, Eren’s a part of a cult who is kinda attracted to one of the newcomers... Such a good movie, we need to draw them properly. Both Yeagerists and Eldians are a part of the cult, they don’t have any specific rules by which I categorised them... Although not all characters are present, and some of them (Jean, I think) are newcomers who will join the cult later. Sorry, I don’t remember much.

22. Silent Hill AU. It started with Erwin peeking into Levi’s apartment, but now there’s Eren too... We haven’t thought out this one, I’m bad with Silent Hill AUs for some reason.

23. House Eren AU. Eren’s a house, and we’ve explained how it works too, so just check out the tag. Levi actually lives there with Erwin, but I don’t remember if we’ve mentioned it or decided to skip this info.

24. Eren pack AU. It’s an AU where Erens of all ages (6 of them, I believe) are a little bit feral, and they have wolf ears and tails, and they live in a specific place and Levi visits them every day and takes care of them. They love Levi. Here’s the only post that survived, and here’s a link for a twitter post which I never got back on tumblr after it got deleted.

25. Trailer AU. The story is about Levi who has to live with Zeke for a month as his slave because Erwin lost him in a game of cards lol To be fair, Erwin lost a lot of money and their whole flat, and Zeke gave them a choice between that and Levi (he’s horny ok), and Levi agreed. Zeke even put Levi on a chain, although Levi doesn’t even try to escape...

26. Flower shop AU. Eren’s a plant, and he brings death to the whole planet. He keeps Levi alive though, as a treat for himself. We’ve explained some of the stuff in the replies.

27. Blair Witch AU. It’s pretty much explained in this post, and if you saw the movie, there’s nothing for me to tell you. Everything that’s different from it is in the post lol

28. Corpse AU. Eren’s a corpse, Levi’s a pathologist who works on difficult and mysterious cases alongside the police. Eren later comes to life along with a couple of other bodies...

29. Antichrist AU. Zevi adopt baby Eren, but Eren’s a fucking satan. He loves Levi, but Zeke... not so much. Zeke loves Eren to death, though. Eren would love to organise that, but first he needs to grow up a little bit. It doesn’t mean that he won’t torture his parents during his journey. And everyone else who interact with them.

30. This one doesn’t have a title, but it’s an AU where kid Eren went missing, and Levi goes into the forest to find him. Levi owns Erwin who’s a good doggo and helps him find Eren. It turns out Eren killed two adult dudes, and he has paths!Eren telling him what to do and how to do it... Paths!Eren has the memory of the canonverse.

31. Zombie apocalypse AU. There’s only one drawing with it though, but basically Levi builds himself a wonderful place to survive the apocalypse, and he keeps Zombie Erwin in the basement in hopes of Hange finding a cure. Then Eren joins just because he can and because Levi’s very awesome. Eren has a boner for the apocalypse and enjoys every second of it.

32. No title, but Eren was casted away from the canon universe for the rumbling, and now he’s a mythological giant wolf who lives in a deep very old forest. He was very surprised to find out Levi exists in this universe... So he kidnapped him ❤️

33. Halloween AU. You’ve seen this one, it’s a story where Jean, Connie, Sasha and Eren get into the wrong house and find a ritual instead of a Halloween party... So after saving the child who, as it turns out, is not really a victim, they decide to ditch him at Eruri’s place.

34. Okusan AU. Levi’s a housewife, Erwin is a cuckold who’s really into adultery. He invites both Zeke and Eren from time to time to act as Levi’s husbands, and they (Levi and Erwin) almost get caught because the “husband” suddenly came home... Sorry, we’ve read too many doujinshis lol

35. Island AU. Erwin loves sending Levi to dangerous places to get souvenirs for himself, and now it’s time for Levi to get a crystal from a very isolated island full of strict rules in terms of interacting with outsiders. We have a cool idea for a two part drawing (like with our flower shop au), but it’ll take us ages to complete anything at this rate... I have like two sketches on Patreon for now, but damn this AU has so many cool visuals we wanna draw... It’s another cult AU with people living on Paradis (more like one village in the middle of the island), isolated from the rest of the world. They don’t welcome strangers, and Levi has three months to find and steal that crystal, although it’s not that simple.

36. Erewan. Not exactly a full AU, but Erewan’s a cursed animal plushie who kills people and loves Levi a lot.

37. Cat AU. Everyone’s a cat (duh). Not really our AU, but it has its own tag, and it’s only asks.

38. Tiny founder Eren AU?? Again, not really our AU, but now it has its own tag.

I’ve also found the reply where I talk about how characters’ relationships work in some of the AUs, you can check it out too. I thought it was fitting for a master post.

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finalcreacher · 4 years ago

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From The Earth to The Morgue - Chapter 1

A/N- Basically...this is a Klaus x Artist! Reader...and y’all are both recovering addicts? Well, not so much Klaus. Not yet, at least.

T/W- I don’t think they are any major warnings this chapter? The rest of the series will have some very heavy topics though.

Oh. and gender-neutral reader! :D

Word Count: 1,825

They fiddle the pen back and forth between their fingers, trying to stop themselves from moving it too quickly- they had dropped it too many times to count, and they think their fellow meeting members(all seated in their banged-up, metal folding chairs) were getting tired of them asking for the pen beneath their seat. It was better for everyone than the tapping though, or the clicking. Everyone except them, the noise and the motion of their hands helped them get through the meetings. Drawing was better than all other options though, it's why they had the pen, and the notebook. Doodling the other meeting members helped keep them focused, but not enough to get lost in the meeting and the message- just enough to listen.

Roaming the room with their eyes, they spot a tall, scrawny man, who appeared new to this particular group spot. He had haunted dark brown eyes, and deep circles underneath them from lack of sleep. He fidgets with his hands and pulls against the edges of his coat, he looks around nervously- on edge. They knew the feeling, but what seemed odd, was how he kept looking back to the same empty spot beside him. Staring, and whispering, and they'd be more worried if this wasn't their second year in Narcotics Anonymous.

Many strange and unsettling things occurred, and they were sure they might have had an occasion or two similar to this in the past. Maybe not a talk to the air type- but definitely a “I've taken too much and I think I can see the walls moving”, type. They didn't much enjoy talking about that, though. However, the man seems okay with this, and very comfortable talking. Not freaked and scared. Almost as if there really was someone else there- someone familiar.

They shake it off, noticing his dark fashion again, ripped along the ends, threads pulled loose. It seems far too many years old- but not beyond repair. A little TLC would do it wonders. They chuckle at the thought of helping him. Mending the jacket in their room, having him splayed across the mattress, bare arms and chest taunting them. It made them shiver.

There was an aura around the man that they hadn't felt before. Part of them wondered if there was a ghost next to him- which was silly, the average person couldn't tell those kinds of things. Then again, compared to most, Y/n wasn’t a very average person. Though they’d like to think they are.

Eccentric was boring, and normal was good.

They glance around the room once more, but finally settle on the man again. Taking in every feature, how his hair parted, and twisted in far too many directions, and how it looked all shaggy. They start with a quick sketch, and then a simple doodle of his eyes- sad and tired. They supposed everyone's eyes looked a little sad and tired, as did their own, but his were worse. There was something far more horrifying behind them.

Then, they begin to draw a soft, nearly invisible figure, standing behind the first full body sketch. They rub their fingers against it, successfully smudging it. It feels ominous.

A feeling of coldness washes over them, making their arm hairs stand on end. They don't pay much mind to it- only making a small note of it in their head. They look back up from the paper, and notice the aura is gone from the man. Even the dead get bored sometimes.

When they look down, the paper creases like it would if touched too harshly. They had been so careful though, unless- they flash a smile to the air behind them, hoping the spirit would get the message. The cold leaves again, and the goosebumps that appeared on their arms, began to settle. They spend the rest of the meeting doodling- perking up again as they see everyone begin to leave.

They leave they're bag seated on the chair, and run up to the man before he can successfully slip out of the room.

"Hey!" He doesn't seem to notice, and continues. "Hey, you're Klaus, right?"

He stops in his tracks, and gives an odd look over his shoulder to them. Spinning on his heels to face the stranger.

"Oh- indeed I am, darling. Who's asking?" He grins.

"I wanted to give you this," Y/n brings up their notebook, flipping to the right page, and gently tears it from the binding. They fold it down into a small square. "Here, I think your companion will appreciate it. It's Y/n, by the way."

He looks wide eyed at them, "My companion?"

They simply smile. "I'll see you next meeting, okay?"

He blinks at them, but they're off to retrieve their bag and already walking out the door before he can say anything.

Klaus was overjoyed as he got back to the apartment he was staying at- the place of some guy he was hooking up with- pulling the slip of paper from his pocket. Smoothing out the creases as he delicately laid it on his lap.

He couldn't help to feel that Y/n drew him beautiful. He was all skin and bones, ribs poking through his skin, face hollowed. But the way his lips pursed on the page, and his eyelids were gracefully shut, lashes playfully falling with them. The hands seemed to softly play with a string on his overcoat. He'd never looked like that, he was always too many meals overdue and shaky.

He runs a finger along the piece, making sure to avoid ruining it. Ben, who had been leaning over Klaus' shoulder, finally murmurs against his ear.

"What?"

Ben scoffs, but gives him a warm smile anyways. "I said, they're pretty good."

"Yeah."

"Are you going to the next meeting?"

"Why would- oh, for Y/n? They are pretty cute," he teases.

Ben shakes his head, frowning. "For yourself. Putting some effort into this would help you, you know."

"God, I'm offended, Ben."

"Also, for Y/n, though,” Ben admits. “I think they saw me."

"No shit," he says, wide-eyed and happy.

"I think they smiled at me," Ben's smile is brighter than Klaus had seen it for months, maybe even years. The thought sent a painful twinge through his body.

Klaus hadn't been to very many consecutive meetings. He'd been to so many types of meetings, numerous times, but they never quite stuck. He never really tried. He supposes he wasn't even trying now- he was just curious. This stranger saw Ben- or, at the very least, knew Ben was there. He had never seen Ben look so genuinely happy for something in the last eleven years than now. His eyes seemingly glowed at the prospects of being noticed.

He didn't want to get Ben's Hope's up, though. He hadn't been paying attention to the meeting too closely, nor had he seen you or your supposed interactions with his brother. He tried to get Ben to understand that you were probably crazy or just seeing things from the drugs. I mean, this is for addicts, Ben.

Ben seemed mostly bothered- annoyed- by him, than anything else. Insisting that the two of them head back for the next meeting. Klaus whined and groaned, and tried to protest- but he couldn't say no, not to Ben. At least, not for this. He'd gone against Ben's wishes countless times before.

He gets there early that day. Enough so that most people had filtered in, but the last minute ones still had a chance to get in. He'd thought Y/n would be early, but frowned at the sea of unfamiliarity. He takes one of the empty seats in the circle, absentmindedly placing one hand on the seat next to him, the other pulling at his jacket. His fingers hurt as they desperately pinch together, attempting to clutch the material between each other.

Y/n finds themself seated next to Klaus, wordlessly laying a hand over his, feeling him slowly stop the painful fidgeting. He doesn't hold back, as they cup they're hand around his- but he does let out a content and comfortable sigh. He's about to mention it, when they let go, taking out the notebook from yesterday- the meeting supervisor begins talking.

He finds himself zoning out for most of the meeting. The light sounds of your pen hitting your paper, and the tapping of feet, and droning voices filter through his head.

Ben doesn’t bother him much, a few words here and there, but mostly Ben found himself hovering over Y/n’s shoulder. Watching them make every gentle line, and rounded dot- making even the harshest of members appear softer, and human. (Not that they weren’t, but some members appeared so sickly or dressed too crazy, that their features began to morph into something else entirely). He admired the work in silent joy, smiling back whenever they would look towards him- though he still wasn’t certain if they could see him or not.

It’s a comment or two from another member, digging up moments from their past, when the meeting nears its end and Klaus’ anxiety hits him with full force. He was most often able to mask his feelings and play it off- but he was here, with them. He couldn’t risk making a scene. He’s all bouncy legs and a shivering body as he tries getting his mind off the meeting- off the years of his childhood he did not want to remember.

Klaus starts pinching his fingers again, till they’re white and he can feel his bones ache. Y/n doesn’t even look over, as they clumsily move their hand to stop him, this time keeping it on top long after he had stopped. They continue drawing with the other, scratching down quick lines- Klaus recognizes the figure as the supervisor. Clean-shaven face, hair dark and combed back professionally. It doesn’t have a background, maybe a line or two- and it doesn’t sport another character like Klaus’ portrait did. And, as he looks closer, it doesn’t radiate the same feeling, either. Whether that was how they felt towards the supervisor, or just today, was unbeknownst to him. What he knew though was that his was soft and kind, and this one felt dark and heavy.

He tries asking about it, and they merely respond by attempting to turn his attention back to the meeting. Anywhere that wasn’t their paper. Klaus leaves a mental note to ask about it again later, thinking maybe they would react differently if the two of them weren’t in the middle of something. He’s afraid it will haunt him if he doesn’t. All your actions so far seem to do that to him. Puzzle him, make it hard to think about anything else- keep him up as he tries to fall asleep at night. They’re mysterious, and he wants to know more.

He likes that.

#klaus hargreeves x reader #klaus hargreeves #reader insert #reader insert fic #tua #tua x reader #tua fic #fanfic #fanfiction #the umbrella academy x reader #the umbrella academy #ben hargreeves #tw drug mention #drug mention tw #tw addiction mention #addiction mention tw #multi-chapter fic #reblogs are encouraged !!#feedback is awesome !!

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katelynn-a-fan · 4 years ago

Note

Fake title: Paint the sky

(I’m starting these up again cause I still have handful and it’s been... many months)

Okay so this is a wings au, where everyone is born with wings.

Except, Virgil’s came out... wrong, one of his wings grew wrong so he was grounded from day 1

So as he grew up, he was bullied for his defective wing, but one day in freshman year someone fought back for him when they kicked Virgil down.

Virgil was wincing from the pain a bit before he was able to see who rescued him and when he did see who, he nearly had a heart attack as he saw strong jet black wings surrounding him protectively.

It was one of the relatively popular kids, who all had strong wings and could fly faster than most of the other students.

“Hey, are you satisfactory?” “Why do you care?” “Because I’m not an asshole like them, just because I hold a popular position does not preclude me from knowing it’s wrong to bully others.” “...Touché.”

Virgil was Gay, the boy was smart and had a nice smile and was against the other popular kids and had big strong wings...

Big.... strong... wings...

Virgil didn’t know what he was doing. He didn’t even know how it happened, but he somehow was eating lunch with the popular kids, but mostly Logan, the boy who rescued him.

He felt awkward sitting with the people he knew looked down on him because of his wings, but he grinned and bared it for Logan’s sake.

Virgil noticed that slowly everyone around Virgil even in normal class began to look at him weirdly. He of course suspected one or all of the popular kids, but he didn’t have proof.

It wasn’t until junior year, almost 3 years of grinning and baring it that the popular kids asked Logan why he hung out with a ‘defective.’

Logan surprised Virgil by snapping, he whipped around, pulling the kid up by his collar and growling at him to ‘say that again, Brad?’ The kid, full of bravado, repeated the question, but Logan brought Brad’s face up, millimeters from his face, making his intentions clear, expression dark and terrifying even to Virgil, who had never seen him more than frown, and slowly repeated himself one last time.

“Say that again?” “....nothing! I said nothing!” Brad’s voice was uncharacteristically high.

Virgil finally was able to relax, no having to worry about Logan going to detention for a fight, when Brad suddenly swung at Logan as he turned away.

Logan retaliated in kind, fighting back ruthlessly. Virgil froze as he watched them both fight each other, unable to move to stop Logan.

It wasn’t until the school resource officer pulled them apart that the fighting stopped and Virgil still stayed frozen as his best friend was taken away. He did nothing, and it was because of him that Logan was in trouble.

That night he got a call from Logan, and he was so concerned for Logan, but he felt as if his body wasn’t his own as he spoke stiltedly, knowing Logan could tell something was wrong.

Virgil told him he couldn’t be his friend anymore, steadying his voice as much as he could to say he hate Logan, even as tears streamed down his face as he did.

He avoids Logan as much as he can, managing to avoid him enough that the only time they are in the same room together is at graduation.

Virgil pretends not to notice Logan’s gaze fixed on him when he is in sight.

And as Virgil goes to college, part of him is happy that Logan can live his life without Virgil’s weak and defective wings.

And yet...

His parents did everything to try to coax Virgil’s wings into flight condition, trying surgery to correct the wing just before 18, though Virgil had resigned himself that he would never fly a long time ago.

The surgery succeeds... mostly.

Virgil can fly now, but it’s on a time limit, anything past an hour or two takes his wings out of commission for a week or more, but his exercises of hovering every so often have proved his wings are getting stronger.

But just like before, Virgil didn’t let that stop him.

He was interested in chemical engineering through college, but once he got out, it didn’t satisfy him, he barely managed a year before he quit.

It was in that lull, not knowing his future that he found one of his first drawings he ever made, tucked away.

It was of him flying high in the sky with perfect and big wings.

Virgil smiled at the grand imagination of his youth, that if his wings were whole, he would know his purpose.

His wings still weren’t whole, but as he looked at the drawing, he remembered.

Every time he drew himself in a doodle, he always drew himself in the sky, something he hadn’t been able to do for the longest time.

But he realized... it wasn’t because he wanted to fly, at least not completely, as he had done the same on his last paycheck receipt the week before.

It was the sky. He was fascinated with the sky itself.

And so it began.

Virgil had never really taken an art class before, but he went at it with all he had.

He desperately bought a set of paint, an easel and a canvas with the dwindling number in his bank account.

Virgil chose that afternoon to start painting. starting with the blue sky before the sun began to set and Virgil’s painting began to fade into more orange, yellows, and reds. By the time evening came and the sun had gone below the horizon, the painting had been finished, the reds fading into purples and blacks.

It was only then that Virgil stepped back, not turning on the light to see his work before he crashed on his bed.

He woke up to the sounds of his boisterous friend Roman calling him.

Roman talked a mile a minute, Virgil barely able to tell what Roman was talking about until he finally heard the word ‘painting.’

Virgil turned red, he had forgotten about his painting in the living room.

“You like it?” “Do I like it? Well, it would be hard to disagree with the almost a million people who have already seen it.”

Virgil’s brain malfunctioned.

“What?”

Roman showed him his phone, where a picture of his painting had been posted on Virgil’s Instagram among his few previous pictures, most were of his halloween costumes that got a few hundred to over thousand on his vampire halloween costume.

“YOU POSTED MY PAINTING ON MY INSTAGRAM! WHY DO YOU HAVE MY PASSWORD!” “Whoa chill, you haven’t changed your password in 3 years, dipshit. Did- you even hear me? You have almost a million likes on the painting. I like the eyes.”

Virgil’s fist stopped where he had been about to punch Roman’s arm.

“A million? How?! Wait... eyes?”

Roman looked at Virgil weird.

“Yeah, the obvious eyes in the painting.”

Virgil snatched Roman’s phone, getting a closer look at his own painting, just now seeing the very obvious green eyes in the painting, as well as the more subtle outline of a very distinct set of wings that Virgil knew well.

A number of miles away, Logan checked his very rarely populated Instagram feed while he drank his morning coffee.

However, today he decided his home needed some as well as it was projected out as Logan spat out the mouthful of coffee he had been drinking, mouth open as he saw his own green eyes and his specific set of wings in a painting on Virgil’s profile.

The number didn’t even matter, it barely registered, but a smile spread on Logan’s face as he realized Virgil didn’t hate him as much as Logan thought he did.

After all, you don’t pain someone you hate into something so beautiful.

So Logan finally scrolled down to Virgil’s contact for the first time in years after so many times to reach him.

He pressed call.

#fake title #fake title ask #fake title asks #paint the sky #virgil sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #analogical #virgil angst #supnerds

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aylinaliens · 4 years ago

Text

One invisible gold thread (tied me to you) — Chapter 1

Fandom: 2Gether

Pairings: Earn/Pear, Pear/Air, Sarawat/Tine, Ohm/Fong

Summary: Soulmate did not always equate to romance, most spend their lives together as platonically. That is exactly what Earn thought would happen with Pear—but as they spent more time together in person, Earn struggles to calm the raging storm of emotions in her heart. Soon enough, Earn finds herself drawn in like a moth to a flame, Pear’s soft bubblegum pink cardigan and bright eyes serving as balm to her soul. At first, Earn just denies what she feels inside, claiming that the only reason her throat closed up when she was in the proximity of the soft-spoken medical student was because of indigestion. As Earn spends more time with her soulmate, she begins to struggle with understanding the intricacies of her own sexuality, but realization never actually dawns on her until she finds out someone was actively pursuing Pear. That was when Earn starts to come to turns with her feelings...but it was too late now. Right?

Word Count: 1779

Notes: in honor of 2gether the movie being announced i have decided to finally post this because let’s be honest...gmmtv is going to clown on us earnpear shippers again. i typically hate love triangles but dear uranus has made me realize that wlw!love triangles are God Tier so thus this fic was born. hope you like tropes because !! this fic will have it all. soulmates? roommates? fake dating? mutual pining? friends to lovers? unrequited love? bed sharing? friends with benefits? it’s what these sapphics deserve

Read the first chapter on Ao3 or down below!

Curiously, Earn lifted her arm and brought it closer to her face so she could examine it. Sarawat obviously understood what was happening, also recently finding his soulmate, so he just leaned back in his seat, sipping on his drink, and quietly observing the own messages on his forearm.

After nearly seven minutes of waiting Pear was done and it was...definitely not doodle of a cat. No, it was something else.

“Oh god. Did she draw a penis?”

Sarawat choked on his drink in surprise. “What?” He gaped. “What did you just say?”

“I said my soulmate just drew an anatomically correct penis on my arm.”

A familiar fluttering sensation cursed through Earn’s body, signaling another message has appeared. She was mid conversation with Sarawat in the process of telling him what time their gig for tomorrow was but never got to.

Full of excitement and butterflies Earn quickly yanked her sleeve up—it’s been thirty six hours since her soulmate last sent a message. It was normal for Pear to disappear for days on end so Earn was used to the delayed reply.

As she glanced down at her forearm she expected to see a reply to the conversation she asked a few days ago but instead it was a drawing.

Once again no big deal—Pear was artistic. She had always sent doodles to Earn.

However, this drawing was not simply just of animals or flowers. She couldn’t exactly tell what it was right now because Pear was still drawing it.

After nearly seven minutes of waiting Pear was done and it was...definitely not doodle of a cat. No, it was something else.

“Oh god. Did she draw a penis?”

Sarawat choked on his drink in surprise. “What?” He gasped. “What did you just say?”

“I said my soulmate just drew an anatomically correct penis on my arm.”

Sarawat looked shocked and positively scandalized but he was not the only one. Earn was just as confused. She held her arm up for him to see and after a few seconds of studying it he came to the same conclusion.

“She drew an anatomically correct penis on your arm. With labels. Why did she send you an anatomically correct penis on your arm?”

Earn lifted her shoulder up in a shrug, leaning down to rummage through her bag to find a pen. Once she did she yanked the cap off and scribbled a quick message.

um...is there like context or a reason that you drew that?

She waited awhile for a reply, staring intently down at her arm for any new piece of ink. It did not matter how long she waited it never came. At least a reply to that question never came. As she studied her arm for what seem like forever the conversation with Sarawat died away.

He knew she was far too preoccupied with with waiting for a message to appear. He was probably the only one in the band who could truly understand what Earn was feeling since he was the only one who had recently discovered his soulmate mark.

Tine was terrible, if not more so, at replying in a timely matter. Sometimes Tine would wait hours just to answer back with a single letter, either forgetting to reply or simply not noticing it.

So Earn waited. Minute after minute. Nothing. Just as she was about to give up that familiar fluttering sensation came back, making her heart soar.

But it was not a reply to Earn’s question. No. It wasn’t even a word.

It was just a smaller anatomically correct penis that was colored in instead of labeling.

Earn pursed her lips in bewilderment but decided that she obviously would not get a reply any time soon.

“I don’t know.” She admitted, shrugging once more. “I really don’t know.”

The first Earn noticed her soulmate mark she was seventeen. She had gym during school today so in between classes she hoped in the shower for a quick rinse off. She didn’t notice any ink nor did she feel abnormal as she scrubbed the dirt and sweat away.

It was afterwards, when she was towel drying her body and trying to slip back on her uniform that she saw pink ink near her wrist.

Confusion coursed through her as she brought her arm toward the light for a better look. She didn’t remember writing anything on her arms.

At first Earn didn’t quite understood what it said due to how faint it was but the longer she stared the more she could understand it.

Mitochondria is the powerhouse cell.

She was shocked, that was sure, but she didn’t have time to think too critically about it because the bell signifying her next class was about to begin snapped her out of it.

Earn forgot about that day in the shower for a few weeks. She knew that soulmates and soul marks were real but it never registered to Earn that was what it was. She didn’t have a soulmate. No way did she have a soulmate. Earn just...forgot that she wrote that. Yeah. That is exactly what happened.

It wasn’t until she was laying in bed one day, laptop perched on her lap as she hummed along to her favorite band, that the memory of that day came flooding back.

A stinging sensation started at the base of her spine and slowly traveled up until her fingertips were tingling and her her throat was constricting. Soon enough the sensation had made its way all over he body, from her fingertips to her toes Earn felt it.

It didn’t hurt, quite the opposite, but it was enough to pause what she was doing.

Then the stinging feeling evaporated into thin air. It was like it never happened. Instead it was replaced by something akin to butterflies but vastly more intense.

A half done math equation appeared near her elbow. A math equation Earn never even learned.

A few beats of silence passed before more ink appeared. It was of a cartoon bunny holding up a sign that that had a phrase on it: Susu Pear!

Earn could no longer pretend like she forgot about writing on her arm. No. This was a soulmate mark.

She practically threw off her laptop off and hastily scrambled out of bed to her desk to grab a pen. Once she found one she tore off the cap and scribbled out a word, feeling as if her heart would leap out of her chest.

hello?

Earn waited for a reply what seemed like years but in reality it was only half a minute.

...hello?

Oh god. Oh my god. She had a soulmate.

None of her friends of family got their soulmate marks yet so she was utterly confused on what to do next. She could search the web for answers but she was scared that her soulmate would disappear.

cute bunny drawing. is your name pear?

The reply was almost instantaneously, showing up before Earn even finished her own message.

thank you! yes, my name is pear. what’s your name?

Before Earn could reply again Pear wrote something else back, just below her previous message.

you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to! i know that some people ignore their soulmate marks.

Butterflies erupted in Earn’s stomach once again but this time it was not because of the ink. Soulmate. Pear just confirmed it. There was no backing out of it now.

my name is earn and...i don’t want to ignore this. unless...you want to?

no! i don’t want to ignore this. i want to um, get to know you. can we do that?

of course. what do you want to know?

everything.

That’s exactly what Earn did, she told Pear everything. Not that night but over the next few years they essentially bared their souls to each other in every sense of the word. Sometimes they would write whole entire essays to each other, forced to erase the earlier conversations or come up with new creative places to write. Sometimes they would send doodles back in forth.

After a few months of talking when the two settled into a comfortable routine, somehow becoming each others biggest supporters. Before every exam, Pear would send Earn the same little cartoon bunny cartoon drawing. Every time the message on the poster was different.

susu earn!

you can do it.

good luck!

earn! you got this!

i'm always rooting for you!

you got this, babe!

Sometimes the messages were so cheesy that Earn felt color flood her cheeks and often never replied because she didn’t know what to say. She would feign innocence when this happened, claiming she was just so nervous about her exam that she forgot to reply.

It was ridiculous—she was so tongue tied and bashful over the same messages you would find on motivational stickers. If anyone else drew these things Earn would think it was dumb but because it was from Pear she thought it utterly adorable.

Earn in return took up to expanding Pear’s musical knowledge and interests. She would use her arms to write down random bits of lyrics she thought of instead of on paper. Pear always took care to never erase those lyrics until Earn gave her the green light.

However, most of the time they just talked. About anything. About nothing. After a few years went by of this Earn grew fond of the soulmate she knew virtually everything yet nothing about.

Unlike most people who got soulmate marks she dated. It was nothing serious, it never was, but she got to experience many different firsts.

Pear, on the other hand, apparently never dated—before or after the soulmate mark appeared—swearing she was far too busy with trying to get into college and than medical school to date. Besides, she wrote one day, I have you. That’s enough.

Messages like that always left Earn melting into a puddle of goo. The thing with soulmates is that they didn’t exactly have to be romantic. Hundreds of thousands of soulmates got their mark but decided to just stay platonic. That’s exactly what Earn thought would happen to them.

It’s not as if she never thought about them in a romantic sense, Earn did more than she cared to admit, but she would always quickly shake out of when she realized that it would never between them too like that.

It has been almost four years and neither of them has asked to meet yet. Surely if they wanted to meet each other they could of. At the start they found out that they only lived three hours apart. After they began college, Earn and Pear found out that they were even closer to each other.

Yet they always managed to skirt around that topic. It would happen one day or it never will Earn wrote one day either way let's just stay like this while we wait for that day to come.

#2gether the series #earnpear #earnpear fic #2gether fic #gmmtv can pry earnpear from my cold dead hands!#love that the fandom collectively manifested earnpear into canon. what do you mean they weren't gfs?? they were #my fics*

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ahtohallan-calling · 5 years ago

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chapter 1 of the food of love is here!

{kristanna / t /modern au / humor and fluff / pride & prejudice inspired}

Legendary food critic Hayden West is known for their scathing reviews of restaurants and wickedly sharp wit. Restaurant owners tremble at the thought of the day the mysterious reviewer will walk through their doors-- never suspecting that Hayden West is, in fact, the redheaded woman with a sketchbook eating a quiet meal alone.

It's an easy enough job for Anna, and she's got her routine down pat, especially with the help of her assistant, Olaf.

And then comes the day she walks into Kristoff Bjorgman's restaurant-- and gets much, much more than she bargained for.

Pencil-- check.

Sketchbook-- check.

Phone, wallet, and keys-- check.

Anna took one last glance at herself in the mirror, smoothing down the navy skirt of her nondescript dress. Her hair, that couldn’t be helped; a wig would stand out even more than the fiery shade of auburn, but she’d pulled it up into a ponytail to keep it mostly out of sight. Simple makeup, plain unbranded shoes-- she appeared entirely unremarkable.

Perfect.

She hummed to herself a little as she locked her apartment and headed towards the stairs. This week’s assignment was easy enough; some new little bistro on the edge of an area that was trendy five years ago.

She liked the little, unfussy places. It was easier to hide when no one cared if she lingered with her sketchbook, easier to see what she was looking for at places where you could hear what was happening in the kitchen while still watching the manager wander around trying to figure out who Hayden West was.

The only clue they ever got was the day Hayden would be there; no photos existed of the mysterious restaurant critic, no matter how many times their scathing reviews went viral. “The Gordon Ramsay of newspaper critics,” that was what the Times had called Hayden after a withering review of a seafood place had garnered a hundred thousand retweets for its description of particularly horrible crab cakes that “deserved neither to be called crab nor cake but perhaps a vaguely saltwater scented cement patty that should be patented and marketed as an instantaneously effective weight loss supplement.”

Anna had been particularly proud of that one. It was a rare day when the food was actually bad enough to warrant such a review on its own; the fact that the manager had gotten into a screaming match that reduced a sixteen year old waitress to tears was simply motivation to hold absolutely nothing back.

She wondered, sometimes, what people would think if they knew the truth: that in fact Hayden had never existed at all and was in fact a twenty-four-year-old woman who’d unexpectedly been promoted into the gig after the man she’d been interning under was unceremoniously given the boot for drunkenly relieving himself on the editor’s lawn, where he had gotten caught by a ferocious Maltese.

The restaurant, thankfully, was only a few blocks away; her car was in desperate need of a replacement everything, but she didn’t have the heart to get rid of it, not when it’d seen her through thick and thin for nearly ten years, from her sixteenth birthday to her college move-ins to her hour long commute to the Tribune’s office for her barely-more-than-unpaid internship.

It came to a creaky halt in front of the restaurant at ten to noon; she’d have just enough time to get seated without having to wait, but she’d bear witness to the midday lunch rush and its aftermath. The place wasn’t much to look at, though she could tell by the small garden out front and the stenciled outlines on the white-painted brick wall that it wasn’t for lack of effort. It had opened only a month ago, the latest in a long line of valiant attempts to put something interesting on this block. If she remembered correctly, six months ago this space had been a design-your-own-lasagna place (wonderful idea, but impossible to execute efficiently); before that, there had been a sugar-free bakery that had been run out of business in two weeks when it was discovered that the only sugar-free thing it sold was bottled water; and even before that, it had been, like most places that were cursed with a constant “for lease” sign, a Jenny Craig.

And now it was just BB’s, a name that was so simple it made her worry that this venture would fail like all its predecessors, especially considering its lack of marketing and online presence; she’d had to send her intern to do some scouting for her to even get her hands on a menu in advance.

“This place is great, boss,” Olaf had said through a mouthful of food as he’d called her on his way back to the office. “They’ve even got cheesecake.”

“With--”

“Chocolate sauce, yeah, yeah, I know how you are. I got the menu for you and had the cute waiter circle all his recommendations, and that was top of the list. Well, not literally top, the desserts are all at the--”

“I knew what you meant, Olaf,” she’d said as she rolled her eyes, a fond smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “And thanks.”

Now, Anna found herself hoping he had been right about this place when she pushed the door open, bells jingling overhead; it had been far too long since she’d gotten the chance to write an enthusiastic endorsement of a place that really deserved it. To her surprise, only one other table was taken by two men, one broad-shouldered and blond, the other dark-haired and sporting a wide smile the second he laid eyes on her.

“Hi!” he said brightly, leaping to his feet and wiping his hands on his apron. “Welcome to BB’s! Table for one?”

“Yes, please,” she said, returning his smile after a moment’s confusion; if the place was as good as Olaf had said, why was it this desolate on a Saturday at lunchtime?

“I’m Ryder, and I’ll be taking care of you today,” the waiter said, pulling a chair out for her at a table next to the window. “Let me grab you a menu, okay?”

“Thanks,” Anna said, her focus instead on the other man as he rose to his feet and ambled over to the door that led to the kitchen. He was even taller-- and broader, Jesus but those shoulders-- than she’d realized at first.

This place must have been an old-fashioned diner once upon a time, judging by the window to the kitchen through which she could still see him. He was handsome, she supposed, if you liked men with strong jaws and broad noses and floppy golden hair.

And brown eyes, she thought, her cheeks turning bright red as he looked up and caught her staring. She jerked her attention away just as Ryder said cheerfully “Here you go!” as he put a laminated menu on the table in front of her. “The soup of the day is minestrone. What would you like to drink?”

“Water, please, and a coffee,” she said, still trying to cover her embarrassment.

“I’ll brew some fresh for you and be right back,” he said, that broad grin still plastered to his face as he bustled back to the kitchen.

Anna fidgeted a little in her seat as she pulled out her sketchbook. The whole point of her job was going unnoticed, but if she was the only customer in the restaurant today-- shit, this could blow her whole cover, considering each restaurant knew in advance that Hayden was coming that day.

For now, though, she had to worry about her notes, and so she began to sketch the interior of the restaurant in the notepad. She was no great artist by any stretch of the imagination, but it was the best way she’d found to remember her thoughts and impressions of a restaurant without having to worry about prying eyes reading over her shoulder. With each detail she drew, she thought of something specific-- friendly waiter as she scribbled the outline of the door, not busy, why? for the back of a chair, clean, good health rating posted for the box of the kitchen window.

And the menu-- she glanced over it as she doodled it. Simple, Italian-American fare; judging by the names-- Cliff’s Favorite, a deep-dish pizza with meatballs, and Ronnie’s Ravioli-- these were family recipes. She couldn’t help but wonder about what the chef’s family was like as she dared to steal another peek at him. He was working on prepping something, his forehead furrowed in concentration, and if she noticed the way his shoulders strained against his white t-shirt as he did so...well, so long as he didn’t catch her looking again, what did it matter?

The bells over the door jingled, startling her, and she turned to see a chattering group of six friends come in. A feeling of relief washed over her; she hated to see places like this go under fast.

Ryder set her coffee down in front of her, winking as he dropped a couple of creamers beside it, before scurrying over to seat the newcomers. She took a sip as her phone buzzed with a text from Olaf.

how is it?

Good so far. Decent coffee. Not many people here, though, can you send some friends?

aye aye, captain. i’ll remind them to do a better job of pretending not to recognize you this time lol

God, it was hard to remember how she’d used to do this without him. When Hans had first been fired and she’d been unceremoniously promoted into his newly vacant position, she’d spent the first few weeks scrambling to find a restaurant that actually deserved the sort of bad review Hayden West was known for. Hans, of course, had never had such scruples, but it felt wrong to Anna to make a mockery of a place and risk running it out of business when it was run by perfectly nice people, even if they did have a watery hollandaise. She’d used to rely on word of mouth and her own scouting expeditions to try and find places that really deserved it, but it wasn’t until she’d found the place with the shitty crab cakes that she’d finally found a manager who was a big enough asshole to deserve every bad review the place got.

The problem, though, was that when the review had gone viral, it had spelled a complete shutdown for the restaurant. After spending two sleepless nights worrying about the impact it’d have on the rest of the staff, Anna had gone for a second visit-- this time ordering a simple salad that still managed to be disgusting-- and pulled one of the waiters aside, asking about the plans the rests of the staff had for a next job.

And, because that had been her lucky day, the waiter had been Olaf, and he’d been just as enthusiastic as she was about helping connect the rest of the staff with new places more than willing to hire them on-- and he didn’t ask any questions about why, exactly, she cared so much. But when Anna had asked what Olaf himself was looking for as a next step, he’d blushed and admitted, “Honestly, I’m on a break from college right now. Journalism major-- not sure if it’s worth finishing, you know?”

Anna had confessed then for the very first time that she was, in fact, the legendary Hayden West-- or at least his successor-- expecting him to react with shock and, if she was being honest, a bit of awe, but instead Olaf had burst into laughter.

“Obviously,” he said, wiping at his eyes. “I saw the way you were looking around the place and heard the questions you were asking. Secret’s safe with me, though.”

She’d called her boss the same day asking to bring him on as a paid intern, and neither of them had looked back since. Olaf had a knack for finding disgruntled waitstaff in the Tri-State area complaining on Twitter and Reddit about their shitty bosses, then following up with them after Hayden’s reviews were published to make sure that they and their coworkers had a better place to work, either because their managers had seen the light or because they had moved on to greener pastures.

One of the tricks they’d developed together was sending in decoys if Anna was ever worried about getting caught. Olaf had a whole network of friends who were more than willing to show up to restaurants at a moment’s notice and eat a meal on the Tribune’s dime.

Today, though, she needed a certain pair of them to make sure this went smoothly.

Send the two improv kids, she texted back. They’ve got their work cut out for them-- this place is deserted. They have to act extra Hayden-y.

Olaf replied with only a thumbs-up emoji. Anna sighed and sat back in her seat, and a moment later Ryder appeared by her side. “Ready to order?” he asked, wearing another bright smile.

Extra attentive-- she’d add that to the sketch later. “Yeah,” she said, skimming the menu quickly again. Honestly, so far, this place hit every mark of a restaurant worth one of Hayden’s really positive reviews, which, thanks to the column’s usual reputation, went even more viral than the venomous ones-- not every day that a renowned cynic actually liked something.

There was just one more test, the one that elevated a good place to a great one, great enough that she’d come back to on her own time and money and bring her sister along for the ride.

“I’ll just have the spaghetti, please,” she said with her sunniest smile.

Ryder nodded and turned away, whistling to himself, and she glanced up at the clock over his head.

Five minutes and counting, she thought. Fingers crossed this goes the way I want.

---

a/n: THANK YOU to molly, laura, and melissa for helping me brainstorm and plan this one out!!extra thanks to molly and to johanna for helping me with some of the restaurant stuff, to ronnie for helping me decide what kind of restaurant kristoff would have, and as always, to creative director gabi :')

#kristanna #my fics #p&p&p

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ashes-and-ashes · 5 years ago

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Birthday Part 1

A bit of backstory to this fic:

So tomorrow (July 15th) happens to be the amazing Aly’s birthday! Seeing as she is one of the most incredible people ever, I decided that I was going to write her a birthday fic.

Of course I had intended for it to be pure fluff, but my evil brain doesn’t work like that. After an hour, I seemed to have 2808 words of angst, with very little fluff. And (despite Aly being the Princess of Angst) I was not sure if she wanted such depression on her birthday.

So, I split the story up! Here is the first bit of angst, and I’ll post the fluffy bit tomorrow. The fluffy bit is purely dedicated to Aly, and I’ll write an incredibly long and gushy post about her tomorrow. However, here’s the first angst and depressing bit - hope it’s okay!

@withrewings

Sirius was going to explode.

It was March 4th, a mere 6 days before Remus’ birthday and Sirius still hadn’t managed to produce anything suitable for his present. He had started drawing in January, convinced that three months was enough for him to create something good enough to give to Remus, but the days had rolled by and suddenly Sirius was left with a sketchbook of half-finished drawings and a looming sense of dread.

He winced, bending back over the page, ignoring the shiny charcoal film covering the side of his hand. His fingers ached from grabbing onto the stub, his back sore from being hunched over the paper for hours, but Sirius didn’t really care. He bit his lip idly, tracing the curls of Remus’ hair, the tilt of his chin, the hollows carved into his back and arms -

“Goddamn it!” With a snarl, Sirius stood, interrupting Marlene’s rant about the Slytherin Girls. He hurled the sketchbook to the ground; the back cover bent with a slight crunch as it hit the floor, the pages flipping open to reveal the sketch he had just been working on. “God-fucking-damn it!”

The others barely looked his way - Sirius’ outbursts were common enough now that everyone had gotten used to the swearing and yelling. It was late at night - they were the only ones in the common room. James bent down, scooping up the book with one hand, eyes still fixed on Marlene. “Go on Marls. What did you say to her?”

“More like what did you do to her,” Dorcas muttered. “No way that girl made it out in one piece.”

Marlene flashed a quicksilver grin. “I hexed her nose off. Completely. Transfigured it into the tiniest mushroom attached to her ugly face. God, they were so mad.”

James let out a laugh, throwing his head back; in the background Sirius noticed one of the twins (Either Fabian or Gideon - the light from the fireplace was dim, and he couldn’t quite pick out the details on their faces) hand a galleon to Benjy, who was sitting on the mantle. “Priceless.”

Peter leaned forward, eyes wide. “How long do you have detention for?”

Marlene shrugged. “Detention will last 3 months. But the tales will last forever. I’ll be a goddamn Hogwarts legend.”

“You’re already one,” Lily assured her. She tapped James on the shoulder. “Prongs. Want to give Sirius his book back?”

With a smirk, James held the book out to Sirius, the covers still open to reveal the half-finished drawing. “Oh right. I forgot.”

Sirius snatched the sketchbook back, flipping him off. “Oh, shut up.”

They were all meant to be discussing Remus’ party (Remus having gone to bed ages ago) but the hours had ticked away and they had planned absolutely nothing. Sirius wasn’t surprised - nothing ever seemed to work when everyone got together, except for a whole heap of snogging between Marlene and Dorcas, and James and Lily.

He scowled down at the sketch in his lap, the half-finished outline of Remus, silhouetted against a huge moon, the curve of his spine mirroring the constellations twinkling above him. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered, the words bitter in his mouth. “I’m so screwed.”

Lily looked surprised. “Why? That one is beautiful, Sirius. He’d love that.”

Sirius shook his head, violently flipping to another page. “No! This one is...is…”

Dorcas raised an eyebrow. She was sprawled in a huge chair, legs dangling over the side; Marlene gave her bare legs a long look before winking at Sirius. “I think this one is pretty.”

“God.” Sirius groaned, slamming the book shut. “It’s romantic. It looks like we’re dating or something.”

Benjy snorted, swinging his feet from where he was perched on the mantle. “Aren’t you already?”

Sirius flipped him off; he could feel blood rising to his cheeks. “I’m pretty sure Remus is straight, Benj.”

“Only one way to find out,” Kingsley muttered; the room erupted in laughter.

“I say,” mused Marlene, “That you should draw him in an intimate position.”

“Maybe with a collar,” Fabian called, “And chains, black leather and fishnets - “

Dorcas laughed. “A gag!”

“You should draw me in that!” Benjy yelled over the laughter. “I’d love to be drawn in collars and chains and black leather fishnet stockings.”

“Oh shut up,” Sirius said. He scowled, staring down at his hands; there was a scar shaking across his index finger where his mother had broken it once. “You guys are absolutely useless.”

“Says the guy without a present,” Lily muttered. Sirius stuck his tongue out at her.

Gideon rolled his eyes. “Look,” he began, “Remus is...Remus. He’d love anything you drew him. Stop over complicating it.”

Sirius spread his arms out wide. “Over complicating is what I do, darling.”

Benjy snorted. “I’d prefer that you do Remus.”

He was definitely blushing now, Sirius could feel the heat rising to his cheeks, spreading over the back of his neck like a flood. He scowled again, running a hand through his hair; it was already wild and tangled, paint and God knew what else caught in the dark locks. “You know what?” he said, then paused. “I was going to say ‘Screw you all’ but I reconsidered because I knew you would turn it into something about screwing Remus. So go eat a bowtruckle.”

He could hear Benny’s voice carry, even as he turned the corner and started up the stairs. “Why don’t you eat Remus?”

Sirius scowled. “Fuck off Benjy!”

Sirius glares down at the paper.

He knew he wasn’t going to give this one to Remus anyways. It wasn’t even the drawing that screwed it up - the paper was crinkled from where he had grasped it, the lines smudged and faded, too intense and too bold. It turned everything into hard lines, points instead of curves, edges instead of sweeps. He knew he was wasting time, drawing something that he would never, could never show Remus but it lessened the tightness in his chest, made it easier to breathe.

He had 2 sketchbooks. The first one had a red cover, and he used it for all his doodles. Pages of simple things: wand tips and goblets, candles and flowers, spellbooks and cauldrons and hundreds of unicorns. He brought that one everywhere, kept it in his school bag, was always doodling in it until the book was finished.

The second book was black, the cover heavy and Sirius always kept this one under his bed, because who wouldn’t know? This book contained everything - a boy on his knees, broken fingers, a single burning piano key. Scars, hundreds of them, rendered in perfect detail, all torn flesh and blood and bones, the lashes seared into his brain. He drew fingers with scar marks and backs with claw marks and even the broken, bleeding figure of an angel with its wings sawed off.

And Remus. This book was filled with Remus as well, all the shattered, beautiful parts of him, all the scars and cuts and marks. He drew Remus crying, and Remus screaming and sometimes he drew Remus kissing him.

He stared down at the drawing now, splayed on the page in front of him. He had hesitated when he drew him and Remus, but once he started he couldn’t stop. The charcoal spilled out of him, bleeding onto the paper, and everything was the same. Two boys kissing, the desperation clear in the clenching of their fingers or the arch of their spine, mused curls and closed eyes and scars like brushstrokes on their skin and Sirius couldn’t have stopped himself if he tried.

He wondered, sometimes, what Remus would say if he saw him, if he peeked into that black sketchbook, saw every dark crack in Sirius’ heart laid bare. Everyone had their secrets, he supposed. His were just more open than most.

There was a rustling sound from behind him; Sirius quickly flipped the page. It was late at night, the room filled with the sounds of people breathing, dreams spiraling into the air. The nightmare had woken Sirius up, the fractured visions of his parents and Death Eaters, and he had spent the rest of the night drawing, filling up even more pages in the sketchbook. He glanced down and started; the lines he had made were so dark that the colour had bled through the page, leaving smudges and streaks and the delicate tracery of lines carved into the page in front of him. He hastily closed the sketchbook, pulling the red one onto his lap, opening it to a random part in the book. Damn. This one was of Remus too, a idle study of him sleeping, his curls framing his face with gold.

He was about to turn the page again when the curtains on his bed flew open. It was as if his drawing had come to life; Remus stood there, golden curls forming a messy halo around his face, his eyes half lidded from exhaustion. He yawned, running his hands through his hair. “You okay?”

Sirius shrugged. “Sure.”

Remus frowned. “You’re always so closed off. It’s like you’re hiding something. Keeping something locked away.”

Yeah, my love for you, Sirius thought, but he didn’t say anything. He shifted, pulling the covers up around him, focusing on his breathing. Remus shot hi a concerned look.“Nightmares?”

“Yeah.” Sirius’ hands tightened around the blankets. “I’ve been up for awhile.”

Remus regarded him thoughtfully, then pulled the curtains wider. He slid into bed next to Sirius, gently rearranging the blankets until his warm legs tangled with Sirius’ cold ones. “It’s like lying in bed next to an ice sculpture.”

Sirius forced a laugh. Remus was too close right now; he was certain that he could feel his heart pounding. “It’s like lying in bed next to a furnace.”

Remus laughed, the sound warm and rich. God, Sirius could drown in that sound. He shifted over, giving Remus some more room, twisting until his head was tucked under Remus’ shoulder. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, the air smelling of wool and pine and clean cotton -

“Shit,” Remus said. “Is that me?”

With a jolt, Sirius opened his eyes; the book on his lap had fallen, the pages splayed open to reveal the sketch of Remus sleeping. He swallowed, hard, fighting to keep his voice steady. “No. It’s the fucking Duke of Alytown.”

Remus punched his shoulder. “Shut up.” With a shaking hand he reached over, picking the book up carefully, tilting it so the light fell on the pages and illuminated the drawing. “Did you...did you draw this?”

Sirius resisted the urge to roll his eyes. His heart was hammering triple-time in his chest, like a huge drum - he was certain Remus could hear it. “Nope. I just fall asleep with drawings of you on my lap all the time. I actually commissioned Snape to draw this, you see - he would creep into our room at night and - “

“Jesus.” Remus’ mouth hung open, his eyes wide as he turned the drawing back and forth. This close Sirius could see his eyelashes, golden against his skin, so fine that it looked as if they were spun from spider silk. “God. This is beautiful, Sirius.”

“You’re beautiful,” Sirius said, then quickly snapped his mouth shut. Smooth, Sirius. Real smooth you fucktard.

Remus laughed, more in shock then anything. “Me? I’m not...I’m not…”

“Beautiful?”

Remus looked down at his hand. “Yeah.” He pauses, clearly struggling with something; his mouth twisted into a bitter smirk before he continued. “Just look at me. I’m...I’m ruined. I’m scarred all over.”

Sirius bit his lip, hard. In his mind he saw his back, the lashes standing out like lines of silver, raised and thick and livid. He swallowed, hard. “Sometimes the cracks are the most interesting part of a sculpture.”

The barest edge of a smile ghosted over Remus’ face. “But it’s still ruined all the same.”

If only you could see, Sirius thought, If only you could see how beautiful you are, how perfect you’ve become. If only I could draw you the way I see you.

He coughed; with a steady hand he tore the sketch out of his book, handing it to Remus. “Keep it,” he said, then shook his head at the shocked expression on Remus’ face. “It’s yours now. I was going to give it to you for your birthday, but I’ll just whip up another drawing.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” Sirius said, and a beautiful, dazzling smile raced across Remus’s face, making it look like the sun had coated him in strands of liquid gold. Beautiful, Sirius thought, and his heart gave a painful twist in his chest.

“Thanks Sirius. But I don’t…I don’t need this, you know. All I want is...is you, I guess. Your heart. I want your heart, Sirius. That’s all.”

Sirius looked down. “Anything for you, Re.”

He couldn’t stop himself from drawing Remus.

The black sketchbook was open on his lap again, a fresh page blank and empty. His hands were dark, coated in the shiny-grey of graphite, his clothes covered in the stuff. He had been drawing for ages without taking a break, his eyes dropping from exhaustion and yet he allowed the sketch to bleed out of him, splattering across the page.

He was almost done the black sketchbook, had only a few pages left. Usually a book would last him 6 months, but he had filled half the book in less then 3 weeks. It was like he was an addict, thirsting for something he could never have, lightning and thunder and rain echoing through his veins. He couldn’t stop himself now, even as he continued filling the pages, Remus staring up at him from every angle.

Sirius took a shaking breath. It felt like he was underwater, drowning in his feelings for Remus, threatening to blow him apart with every gasping inhale of air. He set the pencil to the paper, letting his mind take over, the curve of Remus’ eyes gradually starting to fill the page.

He remembered the first time he had seen Remus, 5 years ago, standing in the compartment of a train as the sun went down over the hills. He was with James, wild and rebellious because for the first time ever he was free, when the door had opened and Remus had stepped into the compartment.

There was something different about him, even back then, some ethereal way that Remus moved. He remembered how the light had hit Remus’ face in just the right way, casting his features into shadow, making him look like some beautiful bronze statue and all Sirius could do was stare.

There was always some part of him that had loved Remus, but it really hit him in 4th year. He had been playing Quidditch, backlog against the setting sun, and he had looked down and seen Remus in the stands and his heart swelled up and he couldn’t breathe. He knew it then, while hurtling through the sky on his broom, knew he would have given up anything to make Remus happy.

He was drawn out of his thoughts by a sharp crack; he had pressed down so hard on the pencil that it had shattered, pieces skidding all over his sheet. Sirius scowled, glaring down at the page - there was a boy on a broom and a boy on the ground, the light hitting them until it looked like a spotlight, wind whipping their hair around them. He swore, staring down at his hands - it was so obvious. All it would take was for someone to look at his book to know what he felt towards Remus. He couldn’t burden Remus with that, the unrequited feelings of a shattered boy. Remus had already been through far too much - Sirius couldn’t heap another load onto his shoulders.

But what if he did? The thought rose up unbidden. What if he did like you?

His mind flickered back, sorting through the memories of the year - the Train, Remus’ hands tight around his neck. The Christmas Feast, sitting together under the cold half moon. January, grasping onto Remus’ fingers, the desperation in his eyes as he began to change. Valentine’s Day, a single chocolate, a whispered conversation. Sirius, I…

“I what?” Sirius had said.

Remus shook his head. “Never mind.”

So many moments, so many hidden touches, and Sirius’ heart was pounding because what if? What if there was a chance?

He was gripping the sketchbook tightly, so hard that the cover was digging into his palms, scoring lines across his palm. Remus had told him what he wanted that night, didn’t he? I want your heart, Sirius. That’s all.

“My heart,” Sirius said, out loud to the wind. Slowly, his hands tightened around the sketchbook.

He knew exactly what to give to Remus tomorrow.

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shannonwhumps · 5 years ago

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day 1: shaky hands

relationship(s): Steve/Tony, mentioned Superfamily whumpee: Steve word count: 1.4k

When Steve was a kid, he wasn’t good at much of anything...he wasn’t even good at living. He struggled to breathe and walk on a daily basis. If he was outside for just a second too long during the winter, he’d be sick in bed for days.

So attempting to develop any kind of skill would be pointless. He couldn’t play ball with the other boys in the street. He couldn’t chase any kids around to play tag. He could sit and read, but that wasn’t really something to brag about. Everyone could read.

But not everyone could draw.

Neither could he at first. Of course, his mother always complimented his sketches, but as he grew older, he knew they were nothing special. Just any other stick figure drawing a kid could have.

So, he practiced.

He spent his winters, curled up in a blanket with his mom sketching on every open space in his sketchbook. As the months passed, he could tell when his mother started to actually become impressed by his work.

And for once in his life, Steve felt proud of something he did.

That never changed. Even after the serum, his art was always able to make him feel just a little better about himself. When nothing else was going right, at least he had his art.

Until that mission.

The mission that was weeks ago.

He should be fine by now. His serum should have taken care of all the wounds and he should be good as new-- better than new. And for the most part, it did. The gash in his head was closed up and there wasn’t even a scar. The burns were long gone. His skin was as smooth as a baby’s.

It didn’t scare him at the time. It had been a rough mission and all Steve really remembered was shoving Peter-- as Spider-Man-- out of the way of a falling building. Steve was unconscious for most of it. He woke up hours later in the infirmary, barely remembering anything from the fight.

When he woke up to see Peter staring at him, that look in his eyes let him know whatever happened was not good.

It was a few days before he was awake and coherent at the same time. Then the doctors ran through the list of injuries and what was wrong. He didn’t worry about it. Burns healed. Wounds closed. But two words that did scare him were: brain injury.

For the first few weeks, he had just been slower than normal. Slower to answer questions, slower to speak for he didn’t stumble through his words, slower to react, slower to move. But he was slowly getting better. The doctors didn’t promise a recovery as all brains were different, especially the brain of a super-soldier.

The one thing that wasn’t getting better was the shaking. ‘Tremors’ the doctor called them. His hands didn’t constantly shake, but they shook at the worst times.

When he tried cupping Tony’s cheeks in his hands, they shook.

When he tried clipping Dodger’s leash on his collar, they shook.

When he tried finishing a puzzle with Peter, they shook.

When he tried drawing, they shook…

When he was with Tony and he noticed the shaking, he’d just take his hands in his and kiss them. Dodger couldn’t understand why it was taking Steve longer than normal to get him ready for their morning runs. Peter was always patient even when Steve wanted to just throw the puzzle.

But he drew when he was alone and no one was there to hide his frustrations from. No one was there to calm him down.

He was trying to finish painting a new landscape for Peter’s fishbowl because of course, they had to change it as seasons and holidays changed. He was making one that was more springy and less winter themed. The snow was melting outside and the sun was coming out for longer amounts. He needed to finish this.

But every time he tried to paint the flowers on the grass, his muscles twitched and the paintbrush jerked harshly, ruining the painting. He was on his sixth try when he had such a bad tremor that it caused his brush to make a stroke across half the canvas. And ruin it.

“Dammit!” He yelled, throwing the paintbrush to his table. When he was upset, it only made the tremors worse, but he couldn’t focus on relaxing when he was so pissed off at everything.

He looked down at his hands as they shook, whether, from the tremor or the anger, he wasn’t sure. “Can’t you just stop?” He yelled. “Can’t you just let me do one thing? One thing I’m good at?Please. Let me paint this for my son. It’s not even for me.”

He stared down at them as they continued to shake. They didn’t stop until...there was someone grabbing them softly.

He blinked his eyes, trying to clear his blurry vision. His husband was standing in front of him. “Tony, when did you get here?” He wanted to pull his hands away and hide them, but Tony held them still.

“FRIDAY told me you were upset. You’ve been doing nothing but staring at your hands for a while now…”

A while? It didn’t feel like more than a few seconds to him. “I’m trying to paint…”

Tony looked down at the table where his discarded mess of a painting was. “The doctors say it could be a few months...why don’t you take it easy?”

Steve grunted, yanking his hands away. They started to shake again. “Because I took it easy for the first 18 years of my life. I never did anything except draw...and now I can’t even do that.”

“Says who?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Look at it yourself, Tony.”

“Make it into something new. Isn’t that what your artist always says? Happy little accidents?”

“Don’t use Bob Ross against me,” Steve warned with no heat to his words. “I don’t want any accidents because there shouldn’t be. I just want it to be like normal.”

Tony turned around to his table and picked up a sketchpad and a pencil. He pushed them to Steve’s chest. “Take that and draw.”

“Tony, I can’t,” he repeated, frustration bleeding through his voice.

“Do it. Just try.”

Steve huffed loudly so Tony knew he wasn’t happy with him before taking the pad and pencil in his hands. He decided to try something simple and just draw his shield. Just a few circles and a star. He could do that with his eyes closed.

Except now, he was only a few seconds into it when his pencil suddenly veered left and ruined his circle. He couldn’t even draw a damn circle. His eyes started to burn in humiliation. “I told you I can’t do it!” He hated how his voice broke and shook just like his hands. His damn hands-- he felt like a child. He felt like he was 10-years-old again and Bucky was trying to teach him how to hit a baseball and he couldn’t even do that.

“Keep drawing, Steve. Don’t stop.”

“Tony, it’s horrible--.”

“Finish the drawing.”

Steve clenched his jaw and started to drag his pencil across the paper again. When the pencil spiked away from the arc Steve had going, Tony said, “Don’t stop,” before Steve could even lift his pencil up. He couldn’t stop drawing it until he had it finished.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Tony, Peter could draw better holding the pencil with his teeth and drawing with his eyes closed.” Steve refused to even look at the drawing.

Chuckling, Tony said, “You’re giving him a little too much credit, love.” He sighed when Steve didn’t react to his comment. “Steve, you’re being too hard on yourself. So, it’s a little shaky. It’s not going to last forever. And even if it did, it’s still art and it’s still beautiful. No one can take that away from you.”

Steve shook his head. That wasn’t beautiful. Not compared to other stuff he’d done.

Tony hovered his hand over Steve’s hand that was holding the pencil. “May I?”

Steve wasn’t sure what he wanted, but he nodded his head anyway.

Tony placed his hand over Steve’s and started to move it across the paper, drawing with the pencil. He lifted his hand a few times when needed and when it shook, Steve wanted to pull away of embarrassment, but Tony held his hand through the twitches until they were finished. Even as they admired their work, still he held Steve’s hand.

“Looks good doesn’t it?”

Steve laughed down at the doodle. It was a messy heart with the initials T and S written inside it.

“You know,” Tony said softly, resting his chin on Steve’s shoulder. “I think that may be my favorite piece you’ve ever done.”

Steve hated that he couldn't help but smile. "Yeah. Me too."

my ao3 | buy me a ko-fi

#stony #steve rogers #tony stark #whumptober #shaky hands #writing #hurt steve #brain injury

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tinypigeonlord · 5 years ago

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Was reading about how American school systems are ridiculous and will expell you for the dumbest most unreasonable shit and that’s just how America is. But tbh it’s not just American schools which are like this? Throughout my time on a highschool in the Netherlands, I have experienced plenty of dumb shit and I have a mighty need to rant. SO! To name just a few examples:

• I once injured my right hand during school volleyball, which is my dominant hand. It was badly swollen, bruised and taped in, so I had to write with left. My handwriting was barely readable at the time, and soon enough I was approached by my teacher, who was pissed. He accused me of bullying and mocking him specifically, because he was a left-handed kid in school and had been forced to write with his right hand because at the time writing left handed was ‘wrong’, leading to a lot of bullying for him. I didn’t even know this, and had to show him my messed up hand to prevent getting expelled.

• I dealt with a lot of bullies in school, and teachers did jack shit to stop them because I had no evidence, and ‘if two people have issues, then both did something to cause it’. So basically I was accused of provoking the bullying somehow. To deal with the frustration, one day I made a crude doodle of a chimpanzee, drew an arrow to it and wrote the name of one of my bullies next to it. Said bully went through my bag at some point, stole my notebook from me and showed the teacher that doodle. I was forced to apologize to the bully and shake his hand, otherwise they had no choice but to expel me. The bully did not face any consequences for going through my belongings and stealing my stuff. Nor did he have to apologize for provoking me into drawing that doodle.

• One day my teacher caught me doodling something in a corner of my workbook while she was explaining things I already understood, and so she confiscated the workbook to make me listen. Next it was time to do homework assignments. I asked the teacher how I was supposed to do this, since she took my workbook. She kicked me out of the class for sassing her and I got detention.

• I was also kicked out of class once for being unable to find my books in time. This was at the beginning of a new year and I didn’t have a locker yet. We had 9 different subjects that day so my bag was filled to the brim with big books, and it took me a bit to find the correct book. The teacher assumed I had just forgotten the book and we have this rule here that if you forget your stuff, you get thrown out of the class. I did find the book and showed her that I had it, but by that time I was too late and had already ‘disrupted class’, which was another reason to kick me out and write me up for detention.

• One time when I was on my period, I asked to use the bathroom when class had only just started. The teacher told me to wait until class ended, and I really couldn’t wait that long, so in my frustration I said to him in a hushed voice: “Sir, I will paint this chair red with my blood if you don’t let me go...” I could go after that, but I was also told I shouldn’t come back in class and just stay out then. + Detention.

• This didn’t happen to me, but one of my teachers haaaaated one of my classmates because she argued against his opinions a lot. So he would kick her out of the class for the most unreasonable things. He caught her looking outside the window for a moment, for example, and told her that if she was not interested in his teachings she should just leave the room. When she told him he was being unreasonable and that she had been listening, he did kick her out. Another time, she opened her mouth to yawn, and the teacher immediately yelled at her to not fucking dare to argue against him again. She stood up for herself and said she only had to yawn, so he yelled at her for disrupting class.

This same teacher even kicked out our entire class once. We all got fed up with him shitting on this one classmate for BS reasons, so we opened our mouths against him as well. Everyone, even those who just glared at the teacher without saying anything, got thrown out of class and written up for detention.

• I had to write a formal apology to a teacher once. Basically, I had been sick for a while and forced to stay home, and immediately on the day I returned to school, I had to do a math test without having had the chance to prepare. I explained the situation to the teacher, who literally told me in my face: Tough luck, shouldn’t have skipped school, I’m not making exceptions for you. I replied: “we’re not done with this yet.” and he perceived it as a threat, and told the entire class what I had said to him, hoping that the class would chastise me for saying such a horrible thing. Instead the class clapped and cheered for me, and as a result I not only had to write that apology letter to him, but I also got thrown out of class for being a disruption.

This same teacher once gave me a 5.9 for a presentation. You have to realize our grades range from 1 to 10, with 6 being kinda like a C. It’s the minimum required for a passing grade. Meaning he JUST failed me. The class argued against his decision and asked him why he didn’t just give me a 6, since I didn’t really give a bad presentation, it was just a very simple/basic one. It had no real faults or wrong things in it. He said he gave me a 5.9 ‘just because he felt like it’.

• I almost got expelled once for presumably having gotten into a fight. Holy shit, Pigeon Lord getting into a fight??? Yeah no, the only fighting I did was with a skeeter. I am allergic to mosquito bites and my legs were completely covered in bruises from a particularly aggressive skeeter. My classmates had seen the bruises and reported me to our mentor. They wouldn’t believe such bruises came from a flippin insect and I needed my mom to confirm that yeah my body does NOT like mosquito saliva.

• I got in trouble for being too thin basically. People complained when I wore tight and form-fitted clothes because I looked anorexic and it made them uncomfortable. When I wore loose clothes, people complained that I looked sloppy and like a hobo and that I needed to look presentable in a school setting. I couldn’t win, and was told to not show up at school until I could dress properly.

• Same with my face. I had a teacher complain to me that I always looked tired and sick because of my dark circles and acne. ( I actually was tired and sick 90% of the time tbh) and that I needed to fix that because she hated the looks I gave her.

• Speaking of being sick! My mentor wanted to fail me for the year and make me redo it, because she thought I was fake. Like, she accused me of faking everything to gain sympathy and told me that if it was up to her, I wouldn’t pass the year, even though I scored passing grades for all my classes. She couldn’t get it done, but she made the rest of my classes she taught VERY miserable. :’D

• Meanwhile my sister was her mentor’s black sheep, and her mentor did fail my sis and made her redo the year. Not even because my sister was sick a lot, but because her mentor despised my sister’s ‘attitude’ towards her. She thankfully didn’t get away with it: my sister’s new mentor that next year overruled her old mentor along with her other teachers, and she passed after all, but not after a serious fight that lasted for 3 months.

• I in the meantime was locked out of my final exams. I had been sick during an oral test date, and the school had claimed that I didn’t call in sick for the day. Nor had I shown any initiative to apologize for not being there when I was expected. (I didn’t get a chance. The splitsecond I arrived at school after being sick, I was called into the office and yelled at with no chance to defend myself) Therefore I was not allowed a re-do, and therefore I couldn’t do my final exams, because I didn’t complete all my tests. This actually went against the law; the school can’t deny me a re-do based these things. Mom requested the data from our phone company regardless, and had evidence that I did make a phonecall to the school on the date I was sick and missed the test, and that whoever had taken the phonecalls that day was lying. But the school still would not accept it. We had to hire a lawyer who threatened to take them to court for lying because of a personal vendetta against me, not to mention disregarding the law, before they let me re-do the test and my exams.

• The school actually threatened to call the police on my sister. She presumably had written on social media that she wanted someone to burn the school down, and she’d be eternally grateful for that. The school claimed they had screenshotted the post and wanted my mom and sis to immediately make a formal apology to them. Now here’s the kicker: When my mom asked to see the screenshot, it wasn’t even a screenshot of the website. It looked like someone had literally just opened a Word document and typed my sister’s first name + that sentence of her requesting the school to be burnt down. The school then claimed that the teacher who had spotted her post had lost the screenshot, but they had no reason to not trust a teacher. Mom shut them down by telling them: “My daughter’s social media account is set to private and it’s only visible to peers in her friendlist. She doesn’t even use her real name on this website. Meaning that your teacher has either been pretending to be one of her peers to gain access to her account, or they faked this entire message. Either way, I myself will press charges if you don’t get off her case immediately.” The school then claimed that they didn’t mean to cause any misunderstandings, and they didnt mean to threaten my mom and sis, they weren’t actually gonna call the police. HAH.

There are MANY more things that happened, but these events stuck with me and I’m still bitter 7 years later. So yeah I felt the need to tell the interwebs I guess.

#shutup pigeon lord #long long post so I Read More'd it #negativity and bitterness

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friendlyneighborhoodborg · 6 years ago

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Marc Appreciation Week 2019| Day 4: Rainbow| “Color by Numbers”

And I’m barely on time for Day 4 of @wearemiraculous‘ challenge. I don’t have time to edit it tonight, school and procrastination mean I’m posting this late at night, and I have some more homework I want to get done before tomorrow.

Again, the prompt interpretation was very loose here. “Rainbow,” I interpreted to mean as... well, I think we all know what the rainbow’s supposed to mean.

Disclaimers were in Day 1.

(~2700 flipping words.)

Edit: Something’s wonky with the url, so here’s a link to the chapter on AO3.

Subsequent Edit: It might work now, but I’m keeping the link up just in case.

Chapters:

1 2 3 4 5 6 7

“Alright,” Nathaniel surveyed. “I don’t have a lot of homework tonight. I can do the line-art up to page 3 while you’re settling the specific dialogue.”

Marc looked at the sketchbook. Nathaniel had filled in about five full pages with incredibly detailed pencil sketches, including multilayered shading, during the hour they had been sitting here. On top of this, he’d created many new reference sketches for the two villains – Princess Fragrance with an updated costume, and the newly-created Ghostlight – as well as some new action poses for Reverser (Marc decided to keep the name after all). It looked like something out of an actual, professional superhero comic, and he had the gall to sit here and claim he could only ink half of it.

This boy was going to be the flipping death of him.

“You’re really good,” he said before he could stop himself. “I mean… you’re going to be famous one day.”

“Hah.” He shook his head and leaned back in his chair, smiling. “No, I’m not there yet. Maybe you, though, one day.”

“N-no.” Marc retreated into himself. “I’ve just been writing what you told me. It’s your story.”

“It’s a crap story.”

“No, it’s not. It’s a great story, and it’s yours. You’ve got great art, awesome designs, and the only weak thing here is my writing.”

“You see,” Nathaniel said, sitting back up. “That’s where you’re wrong on everything.”

“You could’ve had the story without me,” Marc stated. It wasn’t even an argument or an opinion in his eyes- it was just fact that Nathaniel was a better creator. “Just saying, you should have found someone better.”

“Well, look at this.” Marc’s journal was snatched out of his hands, despite his protests. Nath pointed out the section Marc had already shown. “This is emotional stuff, you hear? Reverser gets de-akumatized, he runs away when he doesn’t change back and Mighty-Illustrator finds him.” He skimmed down the paragraph. “All these parallels you drew between them, being the only ones to stay powered up even uncorrupted, all this, this depth you gave them that I never even thought they could have.” He slammed down the journal and stared him down. “This scene would be meaningless without your dialogue.”

“It’s just words.” Marc’s voice was weaker now. “That’s all I’m good at. And it was your story. You set everything up, I just filled in the blanks.”

“All you’re good at?” Nathaniel released the journal from its captivity. “Sure, fine, okay. Words are all you’re good at. And words were all Shakespeare was good at. It was all Dumas was good for. Everything Tolkien was good for.” He pointed at it. “This is just… you’re incredible, okay? Seriously. And trust me, once they see it, everyone’s gonna agree. Then you’ll get the appreciation you deserve.” He started placing his sketchbook, pens, and pencils into his bag. “Now take a rest, man, you deserve it. I’ll keep you posted.”

It was one of Nathaniel’s many attributes. He was so adamant that people he admired had a worth that exceeded his own, Marc had to wonder how he didn’t realize his own abilities. No, drawing was just a thing he liked to do, never mind that he was so good at it. Nathaniel seemed more interested in Marc’s contribution to the project, something Marc hadn’t expected from his first impressions. Now his friend was trying to moderate his wellbeing?

Marc found himself unable to say no.

Here he was, a trashy gay mess of a thing. If Nathaniel kept up with his talent and humility and his whole coolest-person-on-the-planet deal, Marc would never shake his crush at this rate.

Elsewhere in the room, Rose walked into the art room and made her way towards Juleka, who was tuning her guitar. “Sorry Julie,” she apologized. “I looked all over the classroom, and I couldn’t find your mirror anywhere.”

“Really?” Juleka smirked, guitar on her knee, flashing the chain that was on her wrist. “What a surprise.”

“Oh!” Rose looked at the accessory in surprise. “You found it!”

“It was in the locker room. I went down while you were across the hall.” From behind her bass, she withdrew a small black box with a pink ribbon. “I grabbed this, too.”

Rose’s eyes widened at the unexpected object. “Julie, what is this?”

“An early surprise.” The goth unstrapped the guitar to stand up and hand the present over. “I know our six-month anniversary isn’t till Saturday, but…” A wide smile spread across her features. “Well, I couldn’t wait. I had to see your face when you opened it.”

Rose looked at it in surprise. “For me?” She hesitantly picked it up from the gloved hand. “Julie, you shouldn’t have.”

“Oh, I kinda did.” Juleka waved a hand dismissively. “Considering you’re always getting me things, I had to return the favor somehow.”

“No, you didn’t,” she argued, loosening the bow on top. “You’re more than enough already. I always feel like I’m in your debt.” She almost dropped the box once she opened it and saw inside. “Oh. My. God.”

Marc stopped packing up to look across at the two.

Rose gingerly fingered the sterling chain, hypnotized by the charm. Marc couldn’t see it from his vantage point, but it was a small heart, the size of a coin, with spiked silver-colored bat wings coming off of it. The heart was set in a chrome border, cast resin of swirling dark pink. “Did you make this yourself?

“Luka helped with the metalwork. It’s not real silver, it’s tin, but… well, there isn’t really a difference. You outshine both the same.”

Rose stifled a laugh, unable to stop herself from tearing up in euphoria. She rushed Juleka and enveloped her in a hug. “I love it! I’ll wear it every day!” She quickly clasped it around her neck. “I love you so much!” Rose forcefully pulled her face down (the downside of dating someone a head taller than her) and crashed into it.

Marc stared at them, wondering what it’d be like to hold Nathaniel like that and kiss him like that. And for just a second, watching their young love, he let himself dream that his crush wasn’t such a bad thing.

“Oh, come on,” Alix groaned, breaking the spell. “Teacher! They’re at it again!”

The girls separated, blushing when they realized they had an audience.

The art teacher sighed. “Alix…” He got up from his seat. “Girls,” he reminded, “you did say you had a lot of work to do. I can only keep the room open for another half-hour.”

Rose sighed. “Yes, Mr.—”

“Hey, Marc,” Nathaniel nudged him out of his observation. “You okay? You should get some rest.”

“I’m fine,” he assured, waving a hand towards the pair. “Just, uh… researching our subjects, I guess.”

“Oh yeah. Rose and Juleka.” Nath nodded. “They’re interesting, alright. Part of the reason I agreed to do them for the comic. That reminds me, we should really start thinking about how we’re introducing Juleka’s new villain.”

“Their dynamic is really weird. Juleka’s normally really quiet. But when she’s talking to Rose, it’s so much easier for her to talk.”

“You noticed that too, huh?”

“They’re…” Marc bit his lip. “They’re really happy, aren’t they?”

“If not, they sure fooled me.”

“Then… And they get to be themselves.”

Nathan looked at them. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Good for them.”

Rose and Juleka wrapped up, and Rose walked over to the Graphiti Gurl (as she requested it be spelled). “That wasn’t very nice, Alix.”

“I’m sorry,” Alix grunted, doodling in her homework. “I’m not in the mood today.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Nevertheless, she persisted. “But you could have said nicely if we were bothering you.”

“Probably.” She looked up. “I wasn’t in the mood for that either.” They looked at each other for a moment. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m an ass, it’s in my genetics.”

“Right next to the ace gene?” Juleka asked.

“Oh,” Alix grinned, “you bet your bass it is.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just not terribly into everyone’s hyperromantic bullshit today.” She closed her workbook. “No offense in particular to the lovely gay couple in here.”

Marc suddenly found himself speaking. “It’s not as if their love is a hindrance to your life.”

“It is a little in my case.” She turned to Marc. “But it’s not cause they’re gay, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’d be just as moody if a straight couple did what they just did. I’m just not a lovely person. It always seems so fake, the way they people those things, and it gives me a weird sense of… squick.” She shuddered. “I’m aromantic, if you didn’t know.”

“Sorry?”

“I don’t fall in love. Aromantic/Asexual, I don’t even get crushes.”

“Huh.” Marc sat down closer to her. “I didn’t know that was a thing.”

“Not many people do. It’s the more obscure end of the sexuality spectrum.” She gestured all around them. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but almost everyone in this room is queer.”

“R-really?”

“Yep.” Alix cracked her knuckles and stared him down. “That better not be a problem, Shakespeare.”

“No, I… I just thought there was supposed to be some… ten-percent statistic or something.”

This elicited a laugh from the punk. “Marc, Marc, my dear Marc,” she put her feet up on another chair. “We are Parisian. We are the ten-percent statistic.”

Marc was overwhelmed with yet another emotion he couldn’t name. “So,” he stalled. “You’re all… gay?”

“Queer,” Rose corrected. “That’s the blanket term. You already know Juleka and I are dating, right?”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“Well, I’m bisexual.” She put a hand on the taller shoulder and leaned into her. “And she’s a lesbian.”

“I noticed.” Marc did a double-take. “Wait, hang on, did you say everyone?”

“Well, everyone but you, maybe. Even the art teacher’s out.”

“So, what about…” He turned to his writing partner.

Nathaniel realized everyone was looking at him. “Um… I don’t…” he buried his nose into Marc’s writing journal, masterfully evading whatever question they were going to ask before they asked it.

“Forget it,” Alix said. “He’s gone statue again. I can never get anything out of him like this.” “Hey, anyone see where the art teacher went?”

“It’s 16:30.” “He must have left. Guess we can leave now.”

“Alright.” Alix scooped everything into her bag. “Later, losers. Nate?”

Nath left with her. Marc walked out as well, Rose and Juleka at his heels.

‘Everyone in here is different,’ he mused. ‘Like me. Could I…’

“Hey Shakespeare,” Nath stopped him. “Your bag.”

‘Shoot.’

Marc ran up to catch the closing door. “See you tomorrow, he called, retreating back inside.

‘Maybe one day.’

“Rose,” beckoned Juleka, at the base of the metal stairs. “You coming?”

Rose bit her lip nervously. “Behind you, my love.” She turned back towards the room. “I’ll catch up.”

He stuffed everything into his sack, and he was about to leave when…

“Rose?” he asked, looking at the girl in the doorway with confusion. “What are you doing here?”

“I think we need to talk.”

“… about the comic?”

“About you.” She stepped forward. “You’re acting really weird.”

“Uhhh…… this is how I normally act.”

“And it’s really weird. You flipped out about Juleka yesterday, and today you were kinda staring at us, and you were interested in our dating preferences.” She gave him a sharp poke in the ribs. “You don’t have a crush on my girlfriend, do you?”

“N-no,” Marc yelped. “I-I don’t.”

“Then why are you stuttering?”

“B-because you’re… really close up, it’s actually kind of uncomfortable.”

“Oh, sorry.” She backed away. “Let’s see, then… it’s something about a crush, though isn’t it? I’m really good at telling when someone has a crush.”

“I-I don’t want to—”

“Come on, I won’t judge—”

“Please, Rose, can you just drop it!?”

Rose quieted, shocked at Marc’s rise in volume. He instantly regretted his tone.

“I’m sorry.” He panicked. “Oh, geez, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

He stood there, letting the atmosphere soak up the noise. Then, with his voice so low he might as well have stayed silent, he mumbled. “I like boys.”

“Oh.” Rose smiled sympathetically. “I… That can’t have been easy for you. I promise, it doesn’t make a lick of difference.”

She held out her hand. “Friends?”

Marc stared at it.

For the first time in his life, there was someone who was queer, and who knew he was gay, and who… wanted to be his friend.

Here, in front of him, was someone who might know what was wrong with him.

“Is it… normal?”

Rose smiled. “Yes.”

“Not that.” He summoned his courage. “Is it normal for… for gay men to… not feel like men sometimes?”

That was it. The leap of faith. Either he was normal, there was something in his life that could even be considered normal, and he might be able to live with that.

Rose wasn’t smiling anymore though. Her eyes had gone wide, and she was looking at Marc with dismay.

“I… I don’t think so.”

Marc shattered.

“Why do… why do you ask?”

“Because I’m fucked up.” He fell back onto the box, clutching his arms and hunching over. His hollow eyes started dripping black mascara, spilling over from an over-filled heart. “Because I’m not normal, and I like boys instead of girls, and sometimes…”

Rose didn’t answer, or bid him continue, or say anything that could help him determine how she’d react.

He sniffed. “Sometimes… I think I’d feel better if…” He was just waiting now, any moment, Rose was going to turn and walk away in disgust. “It’s-It’s fucking crazy, but…”

Rose put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey…” she whispered. “You can let it out.”

With one final push, and the reassurance he needed, he forced himself to.

“Sometimes I want to be a girl!”

Rose hugged him. Marc weakly returned the embrace, burying his face into her shoulder.

“There, there,” she consoled, a voice genuinely caring about his trouble. “So is that why you freaked out when… oh. Reflekta zapped you, didn’t she?”

Marc sobbed a little. Rose held him tighter.

The pain was getting too big to ignore now.

He shifted in his seat and Rose let go. “But just, like,” he blubbered. “I’m fine, a lot of the time. Being me, being a boy. It’s just sometimes… not all the time, but sometimes I wish my chest was bigger and I didn’t have a—” He looked up, blushing.

Rose got the picture. “Oh, buddy… Is that it?” She took a deep breath. “Well, I can’t say I know much about dysphoria, but I guess—”

“Does it even count as dysphoria? If I don’t feel it all the time?” He grabbed at his hair, the stress overcoming him. “And that’s not even all of it… sometimes I just feel wrong. No matter how much makeup I put on, how feminine I look, it’s always wrong, like nothing I can do will make me look right. And sometimes, the more I use, the less it works. And it feels like I’m missing some crucial detail, but I don’t know what, and it just leaves me feeling… empty.” He covered his face with his hands. “I feel like that now.”

“I’ve done some reading online,” Rose said. “Dysphoria hits in different ways sometimes. If you’re a girl…” She trailed off, surveying him. “If you’re actually a girl, you shouldn’t force yourself to be a boy. That could really be bad for you, with the coginate… distance – shoot, I heard Max say it once. When you try to accept two different things at the same time?”

“Doublethink?”

“Sounds right. Maybe.”

Marc chuckled ruefully. “So you think I’ve tricked myself into being a boy?”

“Maybe. Whatever it is, I’ll help you.” She caressed his shoulder again, offering her comforting touch. “You can be yourself, Marc, no one can take that from you.”

“Trust me.”

You know what, any editing of this work after I post these will come after the week is already finished. I am not giving myself more to do. But these are done for now, until I think of any better rewordings.

(How I wrote this: I typed out a few cool moments ahead of time, got distracted, and connected them all on the day it was due.)

Comments much appreciated, as always, I want to know if there’s anything I should change in future chapters.

#Marc Appreciation Week #nathmarc #marc anciel #nathaniel kurtzberg #alix kubdel #rose lavillant #julerose #juleka couffaine #in no particular order #fanfiction #miraculous ladybug

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one-and-a-half-yikes · 6 years ago

Text

This AU Idea I never finished

ABYSS

CHAPTER 1 (no longer a thing RIP)

Henry Crosem liked to think of himself as a simple man. Ever since he was a boy he’d only ever had his sights respectively fall upon the category of:

Get good grades.

Get a good scholarship, specifically in the art field.

Maybe find himself a beautiful wife who could cook about as well as him.

They’d get married and have kids. How many kids Henry was never sure about, he just knew he wanted some kids. A couple of girls and a couple of boys.

Then he’d get old and have grandchildren. He would die happy with the ones he loved.

A simple, American way of thinking. Just living a happy life till the end of days. Nevermind the dreamers with big ideas and egotistical mindsets with business, business, business on their minds; all Henry wanted to achieve at was being happy.

Forever.

He had never imagined himself as someone who was an amazing artist. It just so happened he was capable of drawing cartoons the best. Everytime he put pencil to paper those sketches became outlines and those outlines seemed to almost always breathe life in them with their exaggerated facial expressions and happy-go-lucky smiles adorning their round, plump cheeks. Pie cut eyes colored in black held all assortments of emotions ranging from melancholy, angry, grumpy, sad, bored, irritated, you name it; he could draw it.

An amazing cartoonist is what they’d called him.

He’d do well working for Fleischer or Disney, they would praise to him.

Henry, however, liked to think otherwise. It had never been a case of what studio he would go to, more like what kind of college would give him the best experience of his twenties. There was never a goal to join a big studio, too much expectation to follow the rules, stick strictly to the guidelines, don’t go off script! If there was one thing Henry Crosem hated more than algebra as a whole, it was having his creativity diminished or restrained into oblivion.

With the creative liberty he gave himself, he had managed to create something quite amazing. Something you wouldn't expect to get pass the parent censors, but this was Henry they were referring to and so they didn’t question the sharp horns and gleefully, creepy (but not sinister) smile that adorned the white of its face.

It had been created, though it had no name. It would be four exact months before a name that would be recognized and feared in the land would be given to the cartoon character.

…

“Bendy.”

“Huh?”

“No, I mean the name - for the character - should be Bendy.”

Henry looked over at the voice who had spoken. It was a boy, well a man technically, but he had a few set features that made him seem like a boy, with a lanky build about him. His knees were knobby, and one even appeared to be slightly crooked (he was not wearing long pants like he usually would to hide such an extremity) and an angular and narrow face, his eyes were kind of big, and they were a bright brown swimming with mirth, his cheek bones portruded from the sides of his face, chin just a tad too sharp for one’s liking; his ears were pointy and big and stuck out like elf ears and his nose was sharp and curved up a bit at the end. To top it all off, he wore big, goofy-looking glasses that lo and behold, completed the nerd aesthetic to a fine degree.

Henry gave him a raised eyebrow and turned to look down at the little doodle he had created. “Bendy, huh?”

The picture itself was simplistic in design with “Bendy” waving enthusiastically at nothing in particular with a big smile on his face. Behind him lay a sweetly curved tail with the tip being drawn to look like the tip of an ink pen. A niche little design Henry was especially proud of.

Joey laid back into the bench he was situated on and shrugged, “It seemed like a good idea to me - I mean, it’s just..remember that essay from a few months back?”

“What essay?”

“The one where I specifically remember coming into your dorm room and witnessing you bashing your head on a table while muttering about how much you want to jump out a window.”

Oh. That one. Some time ago, three months actually, Henry had embarked on an amazing journey through literature, in which he was told to write an entire essay on character designs and how they should and must coincide with their personalities in some shape or form. The teacher had given the students permission to use their own characters they had created in the essay as an example, and naturally, Henry had picked the first ever toon he'd called an actual success. The little toon demon had had many names running through Henry's brain, but none had ever stuck, and when he had found one halfway through his essay and sleep deprived he'd accidentally misspelled the name, and what came of it was jumbled jargon of what should have been Bentley.

Luckily, it was his own work and so his teacher completely glossed over the typo when he'd turned it in, didn't mean anything to Henry who was a wreck throughout the whole endeavor and beyond. To hear Joey bring it back up again had him quite annoyed and embarrassed, which was always a good combination of emotions.

“I mean...that doesn't...really...sound - feasible?...” Henry stated, wincing at how his voice strained on the last word. He'd had a sore throat for a whole week, and it was annoying - agitating - at best.

Joey suddenly leaned in, eyes wild with excitement. “But, it could work so well! Like a pun!”

“...a pun?”

“Well, I mean, he's a toon; and they're pretty bendy aren't they?” Joey stated in a matter-of-fact tone. He shrugged.

“Well yeah-” Henry muttered, finding himself becoming a tad more convinced.

“Then it's perfect!” Joey exclaimed, arms flailing about. He almost fell out of his seat in the process of his jerky movements.

Henry snorted and rolled his eyes at his friends antics, then glanced back down at his crinkled, white paper. Hesitantly he reached for the pen he had laid down on the table, before lightly gripping it, and, holding it steadily, etched the word ‘Bendy’ into the paper.

“Bendy...huh?”

Well...it wasn't that bad of a name…

…

The name for the studio, was pretty lacking in creativity.

Joey Drew Studios.

It was bad enough that Joey's name was viable to turn into someone's pun of the week, but then to gleefully add it to the studio's name - considering on the fact that it was an animation studio to begin with - didn't make it better, and Henry so badly wanted to bury himself into the sandy and gravel parking lot.

Beside him Joey stood proud and tall with his hands on his waist looking up at the crooked sign reading his name in big, blocky letters. A smile, all teeth exposed, like it could light up a Christmas tree was plastered on his face, and with some carelessness, the man slammed a hand upon Henry's shoulder with more force than he had intended, especially for someone so skinny.

Henry looked, and his moss greens met excited browns that seemed to have a smile of their own. It was infectious in a way and the chestnut haired man smiled as well.

“With this, Henry. This studio; you and I...we're gonna go places...big places…”

Joey said it with confidence and bravado and Henry couldn't help but to believe him. Even if he thought that couldn't be further from the truth.

Even though some part of him felt like this was lie. A big lie.

One of many lies yet to be made.

…

The place itself was desolate and gray.

Faded, yellowed walls with torn and shredded wood, along with the pervasive smell of old ink was all that was left of a dream.

And Henry had long since cried about it.

Shuffling through the strangely quiet halls of the studio, he tried to keep his breathing as shallow as possible, especially with the aforementioned dust and...rotten wood, he hoped that was what that smell was. Stepping lightly over wooden boards so as to not immediately fall down another hole the man continued on, clutching a broken and bent pipe against his chest, if only if to feel secure if nothing else. His axe, which would be his third axe having been lost, had broken while in the midst of a fight with a hoard of searchers. He’d narrowly escaped death for the twentieth time before giving up and thrusting the rest of what was left of the weapon into the ‘stomach’ of one of the moaning creatures of blackness.

Didn’t mean anything though because he still ended up with a mouthful of ink that he just barely managed to stop from slithering down his throat. He scratched at his neck feeling an itching sensation welling up inside him.

Another coughing fit.

Not now! Not now! Henry cast his eyes around the space he was in but all he could see were blank walls with questionable dark stains splattered on them that definitely didn’t look like ink to him.

Walking just a little bit faster till he was going in a light jog he made it to the end of the hallway where he came across two passages.

A wheezy breath in the form of an exhale escaped passed his lips, releasing some of the pressure from off his chest. With a quickness, the man hadn’t known himself to have he slapped a thick hand against his mouth silencing any further noise less he make a noise loud enough to attract attention to any monsters roaming the halls and be killed off - that, and he didn’t even know of any other Bendy statues that could be down here. And besides that, he couldn’t afford to get into another fight, not now; not after having to deal with killing the only true companion he’d found solace in in this hellhole of a studio turned into a beast of nightmarish proportions by that fucking someone he thought he could trust. And then having to fight them afterwards when they didn’t get their way, Henry just slightly escaping the inky person’s grasp and making a beeline for the exit. Now he found himself incredibly deep within the studio, and at this point he was certain that there was no way of escape, all he could truly do now was survive, and maybe hope that he could come across someone else trapped here as well, although the likelihood of that being the case was quite small as far as he was concerned, and yet optimism had always been one of Henry’s defining characteristics. Now alongside being able to cheat death itself!

It was funny though really - the ink could destroy you or heal you, yet it could never figure out which to stick with when it came to Henry, which technically gave him the advantage to do as he pleases, but there was a need to still be cautious around the stuff…

He wondered if that’s why Wally and Norman ended up sharing the same fate...

Henry shook his head, his faded, chestnut hair bobbing lightly with the motion. He couldn’t think about those things now. When he found a safe room to rest in he could reminiscence and cry like a bitch then, right now he needed to focus. The pressure in his chest had built up even more and the wheezes were turning into full on gulps for air as he tried to maintain composure, but it was kind of hard to do that when his lungs felt as if they could burst at any second, and he was sure that if he stopped now to let out a polite and quiet cough he would end just showing that it was truly possible for a human to projectile vomit from a distance.

But he couldn’t stop, and his coughing fit could very well leave him vulnerable to any ambush.

Better to be safe than to be sorry.

That’s what he told his daughter at least.

“But the spider looks so cute! Why can’t I touch it? It ain’t doin’ nothing!” A small girl with pale skin and dark hazel hair and intense dark blue eyes stared up him with a small pout, her brow furrowed.

“Only if you wanna get bitten!” Henry exclaimed sitting the tool box covered in oil. He’d been working on the family car has it had broken down for the third time in a row and he wanted to check it out and see if he could fix the problem himself before even entertaining the thought of going to a car shop to get it repaired. He turned to her and placed his hands on his hips, a steady, playful glare directed at her. “Your mother and I don’t have the means to pay another hospital bill because you’re feelin’ a little adventurous.”

The girl pouted just a little bit more to the point of where her bottom lip began to wobble, and with some cursed talent she managed to give off the impression that she was about to cry. Luckily, Henry had had plenty of time to get used to her ‘pouty face’ and so was able to ignore it. He waggled a finger at her with a stern glare, “Nuh-uh, ain’t happenin’.”

“Daaaaaad!” She stomped her feet on the hard packed earth causing small dust clouds to poof into existence. She balled her small hands into small fists and glared back at him silently. Her dark eyes reflecting a storm, yep, she certainly was her mother…

“Better to be safe than sorry my dear!” And he said this in what he considered to be a perfect match to the Wicked Witch’s voice from ‘The Wizard of Oz’, though of course his wife and child would digress heavily on that front.

So caught up in his memories, Henry completely forgot to pay attention to just about...well anything, and so when the first cough, which turned into a second and then a third came loose from his throat, he immediately collapsed on his hands and knees, inhaling shaky breaths and desperately wishing for some water to alleviate the misery his throat was under. Coughing seized for a moment before making a comeback faster than he could anticipate, and soon he was hacking and choking on bits of ink lodged in his throat refusing to come out anytime soon. Spat on the ground and looked in horror and the wet chunk of dried ink and blood glistening in the dim light of the hall.

He stood back up hastily, groaning and still spitting and hacking and wheezing and coughing. As he did this he could hear the sounds of heavy moans from behind, and he turned to see thin amalgamations of a half-human half-melted deformity crawling across the floor, its thin arms shivering as if they could collapse at any moment.

A searcher.

Although this one was small, where there was one, there would be ten more to count and Henry knew he definitely didn’t have the strength to fight them all off.

So he ran.

Or attempted to at least. Instead he hobbled a meger pace that would grandmas seem faster in comparison to a man in his late fifties.

He wasn’t anywhere near the end of the hallway when he heard a ghastly screech from behind, and, deciding that looking back was really stupid (he was going to die anyways though) he looked behind him to see ‘Bendy’ casually making his way out if the inky portal he’d created. From the looks of it, he was now more skinny than before, with what was supposed to be a spinal cord now looking closer to sharp spikes protruding from his back. His ribcage was more defined and poked through his ‘skin’ showing bits of white. If Henry dared to squint and look closer he could even make out bits of dark ‘flesh’ hanging off the ends of the white marrow.

The monster seemed to look to his left before looking to his right and staring dead at him.

Or at least he thought he was staring at him.

It paused, as if observing him, and then with a loud cry unlike all the others he’d heard before, it charged with clawed, inky limbs outstretched, ready to kill him immediately. At that point, still hacking up blood and ink, Henry allowed the creature to grip him, its claws digging deep into his flesh. He cried out in agony, but realized it was pointless because it was all the same dance and no amount of pleading or crying or begging would cause the pain to end; his suffering would continue onwards whether he wanted it to or not. And he was pretty sure this thing was just sentient enough to be able to understand how to sneak up and kill its prey, but not enough to have a moral conscience. Or at least that was the only theory he could come to.

Then again, was it really a theory? The amount of times he had been ambushed by ‘Bendy’ was immense after all.

Henry had long since stopped screaming, even as those wicked claws ripped flesh and skin from his white bones; even as he felt those same claws puncture a lung, causing him to gasp desperately for air; even as he had his intestines ripped violently from his stomach and in his faded moments of lasting life he watched the creature, with an ever present grin etched onto its face, crush his heart.

Blood was splattered everywhere, some of it old, and some of it new. Although if you asked Henry he wouldn’t be able to tell you the difference.

Henry’s entire body had been eviscerated and mutilated beyond recognition and could very well be described as a smears of red and chunks of flesh scattered about. Because that was basically what he had become, and still was technically.

Struggling through the tunnel of ink he could feel bits of his body wriggling and growing back. It was at this point, as he grew a neck for his decapitated head, that he realized he had just mere moments ago been nothing but a floating mass of empty air, or better yet, if this world worked the way it evidently did, he had been nothing but a floating soul amongst the ink that was now regrowing a body. And that was kind of cool, but also terrifying.

Everyone else lost their soul to the ink and yet he was still here?!

He had died in the worst way imaginable. In a way that should not have ended with him emerging from the ink puddle next to the Bendy statue he had become familiarized with. Everyone else was gone, but even when he lost all his body parts his soul was able to go on…

Apparently, Joey was really fucking adamant about keeping him alive…

Fuck you, Joey...just- fuck you…

“Welp, twice times the charm I guess…”he muttered making his way back down…

Shit where the fuck was he?

He paused and looked both ways before a sudden realization dawned on him.

“Seriously, fuck you Joey…”

…

Successfully raiding a trashcan for food in a world dominated by inky creatures that didn’t necessarily need food to survive was always a blessing.

Which was incredibly ironic considering on the fact that this place ran on Satanic magic.

At least Bendy liked to think so.

Curved, white claws dragged through rubbish pulling out scraps of meat and black, fleshy things covered in ink. The toon was sure it was worms. He shrugged and shoved the food in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. Two more days before he would at least reach the sewer parts of the city, though of course he could cut that down to one-in-a-half if he snuck aboard one of those supply ships those Goldies were stationed in. But then again, everyone was looking for him most likely, or would soon.

Snatching a few more scraps of rotten meat covered in ink he shoved it deep into his pant pockets which were a dark, navy-green coloring with a dark, gray-orange coat wrapped snug around his top torso.

The toon jumped up and looked around wildly with oddly off-model eyes. He had stopped in one of the many alleyways designated throughout the city. In the distance, he could hear the sounds of shouting and yelling and the sounds of blaring horns.

Guards…

Great - more hiding. And just when he didn't feel like involving Boris in anymore danger than he already was…

And he didn't trust his magic to be cooperative with him at the moment with his nerves all frazzled.

#holy shit #walls of text #long reads #one-and-a-half-yikes #big yikes #being revised #batim au

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dailythranduilproject · 7 years ago

Photo

Username(s) we can find you under:

TheMirkyKing - @themirkyking

> What Media do you create?

Writing, Drawings-pencil and occasional colored pencils/pens, and some edits.

> Where can we find your work?

A03 and tumblr . I have a DeviantArt account(under different name) but that is just to look at all the wonderful art out there.

> What would you say you are best known for in the fandom?

Umm…not really sure as I don’t think many know me…I would have to say for my writing?? LOL

> Do you have a favorite pairing?

Too many! But my true love is Barduil, then Thrandolas. Thranduil and Elrond, Sigrid and Legolas (Looking right at @Moonofmorrigan for sucking me into that one!) And Elrohir and Ela (OC of @damnitbarduil)

> What other fandoms are you part of?

Yuri on Ice, Avatar the Last Airbender, Game of Thrones, more as a spectator.

> Any advice/words for others in the fandom?

Don’t shame/troll/hate anon others for what they enjoy, write and create. There is enough ugliness out there, don’t add to it. I know it sounds Pollyanna, if you don’t have anything good to say then say nothing- there is REAL person on the other end. Creative criticism is fine, as is disagreeing with someone, but do it in a constructive way. And if you are thinking that your writing, art or anything sucks, so what? If you enjoy doing it then do it. We all have different skill levels and talents- explore them and grow. Have someone you chat with read or look at them and get their feedback- most people are their worse critic’s, so get that other opinion! Respect others works-no stealing- everyone deserves their work credited! HAVE FUN! There are so many wonderful people out there, ready to share their joy of this fandom. :D

PERSONAL > Favorite color?

Not fair, I like almost all colors but I would have to say greens and blues draw me.

> Favorite Book?

Really unfair! So many books have a special place in my heart. Two Towers- J.R.R. Tolkien; American Gods-Neil Gaiman; All Creatures Great and Small- James Herriott; Dragonsinger- Anne McCaffrey; Dune- Frank Herbert. Just a few ;)

> Favorite movie?

Again- So hard to single out one so here are some of my faves- Singing in the Rain; Spanglish; Howl’s Moving Castle; The Secret World of Arrietty; To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything! Julie Newmar; Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World.

> Do you have a pet peeve?

Aside from the usual; rudeness, ignorance, intolerance; it’s people who chew their mouths open-shudder! (Only children are forgiven…barely.)

> What country are you from?

United States

> Who do you think you might have been in a past life?

Depends on what time period, but some sort of household staff member- like maid or kitchen help. Or a squirrel…yeah, probably a squirrel.

>What do you like to do in your spare time other than create the media you work on?

I enjoy cross stitching, gardening and reading.

>When did you join the fandom?

I have been a Tolkien fan since I was 10 but didn’t really join in the fandom stuff till 2015.

Followers Questions

@mewardy:

1- How long have you been writing?

I have always enjoyed writing, my mom still has stuff I wrote in elementary school (so embarrassing), but didn’t really start writing and posting after I discovered A03 and Tumblr. It was great knowing that there was a place to share my stuff.

2 -Why fantasy - especially Thranduil?

I have always been drawn to fantasy/sci-fi. I find it more freeing- the options are limitless. While I usually write modern AU’s there is still an element of fantasy. Thranduil just drew me in. I liked Legolas in LOTR, but nothing like Thranduil. While I didn’t really like PJ’s vision for Thranduil, I did love Lee Pace’s portrayal of the Elven King. For me, Thranduil sparked my imagination- he comes off as cold and arrogant. He is, but there was more to him, just hiding it. That is what I enjoy. Exploring his private life. He allows for so many different versions and I love writing him and reading how others see him.

3 -Where are you from?

United States- Seattle.

@sweetfairy1:

1 - How did you develop your super cute drawing style?

First off- thank you! I like Chibi styles so I kind of base my stuff off that style. A mix of Chibi/Shojo?? I think of my stuff as cartoonish.

2 - When you drew Thranduil and/or Bard the first time, did they look similar than they do now?

My first drawing was Thranduil, and I think they look similar, just a few changes. And it really depends on what I am trying to draw. Some I do just as portrait drawings, then the cartoon type and every so often, I try for the more realistic style, as in Manga style-lol

@eldritchmage:

1 - I enjoy your artwork very much, so would like to know how long you have been drawing?

You are so sweet! I have been doodling and drawing since I was a kid, nothing serious, I only took a calligraphy class in school and then one art class in college. I keep thinking of going for more formal learning cause I would like to have a stronger skill set then I have now.

2 - What prompted you to start? Drawing Bard and Thranduil??

I saw a chibi Thranduil and I loved it. Thought, hmmm…lets see how mine would look. That was it, now I have notebooks, scraps of paper, sketchbooks filled with them.

3 - Do you have other favorite subjects as well as Thranduil and Bard?

I usually just draw random figures. I tend to do portrait, and I struggle with full figure- my other half is always at me about drawing whole figures, especially the feet! And not to draw on lined paper! LOL

4 - Also, how did you come to develop your distinctive style?

I really like Manga so that is a big influence. Then the usual culprits of seeing other artist styles, animated films and such, then wanting to incorporate and explore it in my own fashion.

@bellevox:

1 - Can you tell us about your family and your country?

I have two older siblings, a sister and brother, but I was the surprise baby so I pretty was ignored by them, unless they needed a punching bag-lol. My parents are still feisty and active at 80 plus. I have been cohabitating with my wonderful mate for 23 years, one day he will make an honest woman out of me ;) I was born in the United States, currently live here, but lived in Australia for 2 years- enjoyed it very much. I like to travel when I can, work permitting. Over all, I live a pretty quite life, enjoying time with family, going to good breweries and playing games, nothing too exciting. :D

@moonofmorrigan:

1 - What do you consider to be the most challenging thing to write? (Like angst, fluff, etc.)

ANGST! I love reading some good angst but I find that the hardest to write. There is a fine line with it and I just don’t know if I have the skills!

2 -We've worked on a couple of writing projects together. What is your favorite part so far of our current story?

What I enjoy most with writing with you is the unexpected turns that the story takes. How I will have a whole course of action planned for Bard and then- WHAM- Thranduil goes in a direction that surprises Bard and now a new course needs to be followed. I just love that! Case in point- when Thranduil fell ill and almost died…. I loved the mystical elements that took place. Of course I would be lying if I said I didn’t like the more nsfw moments, cause those are a lot of fun!

3 - What kind of stories would you like to see more of in the fandom?

I would love to see more Sci-Fi Au’s. I am a sucker for elves in space!

@floranocturna:

1 - what is your dream destination to travel?

Lord, everywhere! I would really love to be able to travel the world, spend months at a time in a country, getting to know the area and people. Nothing fancy, just kicking around and seeing more then just the “famous cities”.

2 - If you could change one thing about Thranduil's outfit, what would it be?

My least favorite of his was that robe he wore in his private chambers! It was so shapeless, like some frumpy housecoat! I would have loved to see him dressed in the greens and browns, like how I imagine him before he became King.

3 - Are you an organised writer or do you just write and sit down when the inspiration strikes?

Soooooo disorganized! Inspiration with hints of structure. My notebooks are a mess with hastily written stuff! Arrows and bullet points everywhere, change this, add that, oh here- he says this! And my crazy short hand- even I sometimes puzzle over it!

Thank you Mirky, for this great interview.

#daily thranduil project #interviews #themirkyking #thranduil #themirkyking interwiew

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frederator-studios · 7 years ago

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Meet D.R. Beitzel, Creator of “The Bagheads”

DR Beitzel is a cartoonist, creative producer, and Pennsylvania fellow living a NYC dream. His day job is playing video games in a Times Square skyscraper; his evenings are occupied writing funnies and drawing comics for the likes of MAD Magazine, McSweeneys, and his own Phatypus Comics. And like several of his idols before him - Matt Groening, anyone? - he’s now making the petite leap from comics to cartoons. His GO! Cartoon “The Bagheads” is a historically accurate depiction of trash take-out travails with former roommates and his competitive clashes with his older brother. He maintains that the Goat (”Goooat”) is its sole foray into the cartoonish make-believe. He studied politics, so you know that he has 0 capacity to - dare I even suggest it!? - fib.

Sooo, where’d you study animation?

I didn’t! I first went to a community college in central Pennsylvania. It was full of a bunch of cool people - unfortunately not Donald Glover or Alison Brie, but fortunately also not Chevy Chase. Then I went to University of Pittsburgh and studied communications and political science.

Poli- what now?

Yeah... it was the Obama era. I thought “It’s all uphill from here! We’re just riding this political train into the Promised Land!” Reality hit hard. Back then, Jon Favreau was writing Obama’s ‘Yes We Can’ speeches, and I was all riled up. I wanted to be a speechwriter.

At one point a local city councilman asked me to write some remarks for him to use on Martin Luther King Day. I was idealistic and had a head full of steam, so I wrote this fiery, passionate stemwinder that drew on self-sacrifice and righteousness. I even referenced "Letter from Birmingham Jail”. The thing was, it was for a pancake breakfast at a rural Pennsylvania fire hall. So, I'm pretty sure he went out and said something like, "Thanks for coming. Go Eagles”. I was young and naive, and didn't realize that every speech didn't have to be "Ask not what your country can do for you ..."

When did you decide to NOT work in politics?

When I met a real life politician. (I laugh) No, really! He was a hometown representative - I’m from the Pennsylvania boonies. And he was a Republican, which was fine; I was just looking for a foot in the door. But when he found out I wasn’t, he asked me if I was a double agent. Like he actually suspected me of being in cahoots with the Dems to get dirt on him! So weird. And then finally, it came down to either an unpaid internship with a politician or a paid gig without a politician, so I chose to get paid.

Chasing that dollar. What was the paid gig?

I started out as a freelance editor for fashion and fitness blogs. The biggest perk - and irony - was that I was working in sweatpants from my couch. I got jobs at some TV and radio stations. At the end of college, I did do one unpaid internship, which was the best free work I ever did. It was at WQED, the PBS affiliate in Pittsburgh where Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood was filmed back in the day. They still had a bunch of the sets just hanging around the hallways - and I even got to meet Mr. McFeely, who was exactly as nice as you’d hope. Eventually, I decided to leave Pennsylvania and move to New York, probably for the cheap rent. And I’ve been here ever since, working with mobile games. I even got to visit the old MAD Magazine office when I did a comic with them. It was covered in original art from some of the all-time greats.

What kinda stuff have you done for MAD Mag and others?

For MAD, I did a comic parody called “Captain Red America”. He’s like Captain America but only represents conservative states, so a lot of his enemies are things he doesn’t actually believe in. So, when he fights the super villain Climate Change, Cap can’t fight back because he doesn’t believe in climate change, so it just beats him up. I also did some writing for McSweeneys. They have some of the funniest stuff published anywhere, and I always wanted to write for them. I love doing comics, too, because if I have an idea, I can just put it out there—there aren’t really stakeholders involved. Recently, I just finished a Valentines comic for Bushwick Daily, a local Brooklyn blog, about the types of people you meet on Tinder.

How was transplanting to NYC - did you always want to move there?

Ehhh… I’m one of those unwilling New Yorkers who loves to hate it. The city has its upsides; it’s the best comedy scene. When I first arrived I joined UCB, which I think is mandatory when you move to New York - they just issue you a membership with your MetroCard. I always brag that I got to see Ilana Glazer and Abbi Jacobson perform their Broad City stage show before it became a TV show. I love that community, and part of me wishes I’d have stuck with it longer, but I was getting pulled in a bunch of different directions, including a new job.

Oh yeah? Where at?

At Nickelodeon! I got the opportunity very randomly, about a month after I arrived. My (soon-to-be) boss called two people in for interviews, and I guess all that theatrical training from UCB paid off, because I was able to fake being a functional person long enough for her to hire me. It’s a really fun place to work: talented artists, toys everywhere, and sometimes wide-eyed kids are touring the office or testing games for us and you remember what we’re all doing there. The downside is that we’re in Times Square, so when I venture into the street I’m guaranteed to get a face-full of armpit. But playing video games is part of my job - I produce apps and games related to Nick shows.

That is the Dream. What’s your favorite game you’ve worked on?

Probably TMNT: Legends. We had a tremendous team of real fans, and the game looks great. Plus, I got to go visit Montreal where the team is based. I highly recommend that everyone spend years developing a game with a blockbuster studio, so you can visit, too.

Did you choose the cartoon life, or did the cartoon life choose you?

Wow, I really need to get “Cartoon Life” tattooed across my stomach. It was mutual selection. As a kid, I’d go to my grandma’s house and draw through all the paper she had. I looked up to Sergio Aragones of MAD. I was always drawing in the margins of the handouts at church - that’s the only way I’d sit still. But in high school, I stopped drawing for a bit - I guess I was partying too much, or maybe I just lost all my pencils in one of my oversized neon Tommy Hilfiger jackets. Then, I got back into it in college, drawing editorial comics at my school newspapers. I get inspired by people like Matt Groening. He was grinding out “Life in Hell” for like 40 years - well after he became a TV tycoon with The Simpsons and Futurama - just for the love of it.

How did you come to pitch for GO! Cartoons?

Just a random Google search, looking for places to send some stuff. I only barely met the deadline. I put together a thumbnail pitch and sent it on in.

Did “The Bagheads” change much from pitch through production?

The core story was always a brother and sister arguing over trash take-out. But it fluctuated in length quite a bit. There were a lot parts I added and then we condensed or cut out. There were intros, flashbacks - at some point, probably dragons and ice zombies - a lot did have to be trimmed down. Which was tough, because as you can probably tell, I’m a pretty big blowhard.

Who inspired the Bagheads, and were they always, you know… bag headed?

The Bagheads were always bagheads. As a little kid, I used to doodle baghead people with my brother, who inspired me to start drawing at all. We’d draw the guys from Guns ‘N Roses, but with bags over their heads—I have no idea why, but probably because I was kid who was crappy at drawing and couldn’t draw faces. Anyway, it became a running gag between us, we called them Guns ‘N Baggies. And over the years since, I’d draw those types every now and then -- a muscle baggie, an old baggie, whatever. So when I was getting ready to submit to Frederator, I knew the character’s personalities, but I didn’t know their appearances. So I reached into my childhood and pulled out the Bagheads.

What do you enjoy the most about Elbow and Artemis?

Well, what I enjoyed most about the short in general was working with so many talented people to bring it to life. I gotta give a big shout out to Eric, Kelsey, Michelle, JoJo, Sylvia, Paul, Bill, Kevin, Stephen, our cast and everyone else at Frederator and Salami Studios who made this happen. I did not do this alone - nowhere near it.

As for Artemis and Elbow, I’ve always liked duos with friendly antagonism, like Ren and Stimpy, Bugs and Daffy. Those good-natured conflicts where you’re kinda buddies, but you’re also kinda at each other’s throat. I like that Artemis and Elbow’s personalities create conflict: she’s hyper-competitive, he’s lazy. And then there’s their poor clueless dad, who’s working too much and constantly worried about the safety of his kids but doesn’t realize the biggest danger to them is each other. Those relationships can serve up a lot of fun, simple stories.

What inspired Nuke Man Jones, who’s still pulling off the eternal dunk as we speak?

Harlem Globe Trotters, for sure. They basically have superpowers. I was really looking for things that Elbow might see at a high altitude and I wanted something silly. Nuke Man is stuck up there in Earth’s orbit now, cursed to never complete that dunk like some Sisyphean baller fate.

The billion dollar question: do the Bagheads have bags for heads, or are they wearing bags over regular people heads?

Ya know, I’m gonna opt not to answer that one. The question of the bags can remain an unanswered mystery if it gets a series. It’ll be like The Leftovers for kids.

How about some favorite cartoons?

I mean, my Top 10 would just be The Simpsons, Seasons 1 through 10: that’s my all-time favorite TV, right there. South Park can’t get enough love—those guys have turned out classic after classic, and they’re the smartest gross-out humor in history. Looney Tunes, Ren & Stimpy, Beavis and Butthead - Mike Judge is a genius. Jim Henson and The Muppets, even though it’s not a cartoon; puppets count, right? MAD Magazine stuff like Sergio Aragones features or “Spy vs. Spy,” which was an inspiration for this Bagheads short.

I’m also really inspired by old school newspaper comics. It breaks my heart that they’re disappearing. Calvin and Hobbes is gorgeous and the most inspiring thing to me. I just read the entire series again, and it’s as good as ever. I appreciate that Bill Watterson refused all the licensing and merch deals people wanted to make for it. I read once that he left something like $400 million on the table.

That’s amazing.

Yeah. Once, I made a parody album cover for a local comic shop’s art show, and I made one based off of Notorious BIG’s “Ready to Die” cover: Notorious HOB’s “Ready to Live”. People wanted prints so I started selling them, and then it dawned on me that I was breaking the spirit of Watterson’s anti-commercial stance. So I stopped selling them, and just told people, “Sorry, they’re gone!”

What do you like to do outside of your work*? (*everybody else’s play)

I like to connect with my inner hillbilly - errr, inner hippie - whatever it is. I go to the beach and state parks pretty often. And I love stand-up: I just saw Dave Chappelle, Chris Rock, Amy Schumer, Jeff Ross and Kevin Hart at Radio City Music Hall. It was insane.

What are you working on now?

At the moment, I’m investing all my resources in trying to score “Black Panther” tickets. Otherwise, I'm working on a musical animated series idea with two musician friends, Jeff and Matt. It's really cool and is somewhere between Hamilton and Freaks & Geeks. I'm also working on a comic strip about animals in a post-human world. It's really cartoony, except the president is a photo-realistic opossum whose speeches are just incoherent, ear-piercing screeches. I'm not sure where that falls on the fiction/non-fiction spectrum. So much for giving up politics!

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Great talking with you D.R., thanks for the interview! Looking forward to all of your future endeavors. And I’ll be sure to vote for you if you ever return to politics / being a spy for those wily Pennsylvania Dems.

Everybody: keep up with Phatypus Comics on Facebook and Instagram, @phatypus! And here on Tumblr: @phatypuscomics

- Cooper

#The Frederator Interview #frederator #frederator studios #go! cartoons #interview #cartoon #comic #animation #comics #cartoons #new cartoon #The Bagheads #phatypus #phatypus comics #DR Beitzel

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