#bud osborne

[planetill]

Terence "Bud" Crawford: Spence Down, Canelo To Go?

By Chris Osborn On July 29th, 2023, Terence “Bud” Crawford dispatched Errol Spence Jr. in dominant fashion. He did so with as much cunning, calculation and ferocity as have ever been displayed in a boxing ring. Most boxing insiders picked Crawford to win, but very few expected the domination that took place in this match. Continue reading Untitled

[yuttikkele]

ok. you know I had to make my own post talking about yfnsm parksborn.

THEY JUST CAN’T STOP BEING GAY. NO MATTER WHAT UNIVERSE YOU PUT THEM IN, THEY CONTINUE TO BE GAY. I THINK IT’S IN THE CODE. I THINK THEIR CODE IS GAY.

anywho them being awkward at first was very funny. Harry was very awkward in this show which I think makes sense.

my biggest pet peeve about yfnsm parksborn: they didn’t explain how they became friends so well good enough. It sorta just cuts from them just meeting to them being besties which I didn’t really like. I wanted to see more development there.

but Peter was suddenly just like, all in with Harry? Like it surprised Nico too. Like Peter invited Harry to something that was him and Nico’s like THING. Suddenly he’s ALL about this nepo baby, but it’s not because he’s rich or pretty, he just, really likes Harry. And of COURSE Harry really likes Peter. He’s waiting to talk to him once he turns on the comms, he’s excited to go with him to whatever little hangout they’re doing, he’s defending him from his dad’s overbearingness. I mean, he’s really giving me even more Adrien Agreste vibes now cause this is like his first real friend and I think he’s in love with him.

and I gotta talk about the big thing. Everyone’s talked about the big thing but now I GET TO TALK ABOUT THE BIG THING.

“Go get ‘em, Tiger.”

…

HELLO??? DID THAT JUST HAPPEN????

ok, yes, firstly, that’s an MJ thing. which, seeing how they’ve made TONS of references in this show, they DEFINITELY knew what they were doing with that. Cause that’s not a small Easter egg. It’s a pretty iconic MJ thing that everyone is like “Oh! That’s what MJ calls Peter when she’s flirting with him!” Everyone gets that reference, so they KNEW what they were doing when they had Harry Osborn say it. but also that line on its own was just flirty as heck?? If we ignore the fact that it’s a reference, it might just get gayer, cause in context, “Tiger” is an Easter egg, if we take that context away, who the heck says “Go get ‘em, Tiger” to their best bud? “Go get ‘em, Pete.” “Go get ‘em, dude.” no, he said “Go get ‘em TIGER”??? queer homo gay butt end of a cigarette in a basket of fruits.

BUT. IT’S NOT JUST THAT LINE ALONE. unlike Norman, HARRY OSBORN SAW PETER’S DOODLES AND WORKED WITH THE SUIT TEAM TO MAKE PETER EXACTLY THE SUIT THAT HE WANTED. which is just SUCH a big thing especially given the emphasis the whole season on Peter’s suit. and the meta emphasis when Spider-Man’s finally wearing the right suit and we the audience get to see him as actually Spiderman. yeah, harry gave him that suit! more than just gave him, he oversaw the making of it! The suit you see Peter wearing at the grand finale signifying that he’s finally really Spiderman? Harry gave him that! AND THEN RIGHT AFTERWARD HE SAID, “Go get ‘em, Tiger.” THAT WAS GAY AS HECK.

also, I wanted to mention the gay little sweater they were thinking about giving Harry. Y’all ain’t slick.

[periprose]

Heyyy I’m literally playing through ps4 Spider-Man again 🤣!

I was wondering if I could request a ps4 fic, maybe Peter and reader have been dating for a while, and she gets hurt during the explosion and he can’t find her but she’s with may at feast with like a broken arm or something?? (She knows he’s Spider-Man) 👀🫶🏼

hey lol thanks for requesting! I'm on the first playthrough of the game myself. Basically this is set during the explosion at the election event in the game, and Peter and you are there to proudly watch Officer Davis accept his award.

/

"Hey." Peter comes up from behind you on the sidewalk, fixing wrinkles in his civilian clothes. He must've just changed.

"Hey, Parker." You nudge him. "Ready to go watch Osborn smooch up to the well-meaning audience of Manhattan?"

"Well, ready as I'll ever be." Peter takes your hand. "I'm really just there to watch Davis get his well-deserving award, y'know. Hey, didn't I tell you to stop calling me Parker?"

"Meh, you love it." You joke. "You'll always be Parker to me, even if you are my boyfriend now. It's our thing."

Peter shakes his head, but you know based on his little smile- he loves that you have a little thing just for him.

Together, you walk to the intersection in front of City Hall, where many people crowd around, waiting for Mayor Osborn and whatever speech he's about to give today. They're all dressed in Osborn themed merchandise, cheering and clapping.

You can't believe this many people care about Osborn's so-called promises to the city- you and Peter are really hoping he won't be re-elected this term after all- but people are clapping for him, and you sigh knowing that your cost of living is about to go up.

"Hey. Wipe that frown off your face. We're here to be supportive." Peter whispers from next to you in the crowd, and you nod.

"Where's Davis? Is that him?" You whisper back, pointing to an older black man up on the stage.

"Yup. You wouldn't believe it, he was so helpful in Hell's Kitchen. Dude whipped out his gun and had my back like we've been best buds for years." Peter smiles. "There's not many out there doing it like him."

"He sounds like a real treasure. I'm glad you have someone on your side." You squeeze Peter's hand, and continue to look up towards the stage in mild excitement.

You don't really care for Osborn's speech- Peter laughs about his promise to open up technology for NYC when you both know that's reserved for the elite- but you both grin when Davis, looking nervous as ever, walks up the stage to receive his award.

"It is my privilege to present Officer Jefferson Davis with the Department Medal of Honour." Osborn hangs a medal around Davis' neck, and you and Peter clap.

"I'm so glad this is all over. The gang war, I think." Peter whispers to you, and you raise your eyebrows.

"Really? Does this mean you'll finally be a little safer?" You ask, but Peter frowns a little.

"Well, there's some loose ends still to be tied up, but-"

"Loose ends?" You give him a wary glance. "Like what?"

"Like whatever 'Consolidated Shipping' is. It doesn't make sense." Peter sighs, watching concern grow on your face. "It's not right, but I'll figure it out."

Davis says a few words- he thanks his wife and his son, Miles, who you can see is sitting up at the front of the stage.

"Aw, cute kid." You remark to Peter, and he nods, gaining a slightly sheepish smile.

"Officer Davis did say I remind him of his son. I'll take it as a compliment." Peter jokes, and you snicker, calling him even more of a baby.

Behind you, Sable guards are talking on their walkie talkies about "keeping eyes on Osborn," which to you sounds as if they perceive a threat. You turn back to tell Peter, when he suddenly flinches.

"Peter-?"

He grabs his head, panicking- you watch as his pupils dilate, and he's clearly in some kind of shock.

"Everything feels off-" Peter flinches again, and you know he's having a Spider-Sense meltdown. There must be multiple things happening at once- even worse, you're not sure what he's supposed to do in this situation. He's not suited up, and he risks revealing his identity if he does anything.

Either way, Peter runs behind you. He shoves people out of the way, trying to get to the back of the event, behind the audience, but he's not fast enough. There are men arriving out of cars- corrupted men, turning that strange grey-blue-transparent hue that confirms their connection with Martin Li.

Peter runs- he dashes- but you see him flinch again, cowering under such threatening energy. He turns to the stage in horror, and you gasp in shock.

There's another corrupted on stage, covered in explosive devices.

An explosion goes off behind you, to the right of you, than another massive one on stage- the ground shakes beneath you, and you're too in shock to move.

"Get down!" Peter shoves you back, attempting to push you out of the way, just as another two explosions cause the earth under you to rattle, and you lose your footing and fall back on the pavement. You twist your arm unnaturally and hit your head.

You black out, the last thing you see being massive blue-black explosions in the sky.

/

Peter wakes to floating ash in the sky.

He coughs- there's a sharp pain in his right side, and a slight ache at the top of his hairline- he touches his forehead and pulls his fingers away to see brown-red, dry blood.

It doesn't matter. He'll heal faster than most, anyways- he needs to locate you.

He gets up, seizes a little due to the pain- and to his alarm, you're nowhere in his near sight. He walks around seeing Sable guards help people off the streets- although Peter really thinks they're poking and prodding and shoving them away, so they can clean up the mess around here.

He hopes you haven't been taken away by Sable guards.

Peter rushes to the nearest clinic- but there's too many people crowding around there with their injuries, and the receptionist at the emergency room tells him there's no one by your name here.

He begins to panic. You're not responding to his calls, either. Peter doesn't want to believe the worst could've happened to you, but he does hear people talking on the streets about the casualties. Apparently at least 10 people have been found dead so far- Peter starts swearing under his breath.

He decides to head to FEAST- he's not sure if you'll be there, but it's better to ask Aunt May or some of the volunteers if you've been seen. FEAST also operates as an emergency medical clinic, too, even with limited supplies, and it's with this small amount of hope that Peter travels there.

Pushing through the doors, the front desk woman- Amanda- she's startled by how intensely Peter asks about you.

"I don't know, Peter." She points to the main auditorium, where many homeless and injured people are currently being attended to. "It's kind of an open house back here- you're going to have to look through the crowds."

Peter sighs. "Thanks, Amanda."

It takes him about fifteen minutes to do a full, quick walkthrough. The entire time, his heartbeat thumps faster as he realizes- he's not seeing you anywhere. There's nobody wearing your trademark scarf, your usual dark blue jeans- nobody with your fastidious expression, where you always seem to take in the entire world before speaking- nobody to relieve the steady ache in his heart.

Peter walks into the room full of medical supplies, expecting to see Aunt May- and while May is there, busy with another volunteer, the first thing he sees is you, with your hair all disheveled and messy, bruises on your cheek and a cut under your lip, and your arm wrapped in a cast and a sling.

But you have a soft, comforting smile. You're kneeling down to help a little girl- she can't be older than five- and you're placing a bandage on her knee. And the little girl squeals, hugging you after you say "It's all better now."

Peter would agree with that.

You look up, arms still embraced around the little girl- Rina is her name- to see Peter, looking wistful, sad, a clear lump in his throat. His eyes are watery.

"Peter?" You watch as he comes forward.

"I thought you were- I thought..." He wipes his eyes. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"Well, Little Rina over here needed a little bit of medical attention." You kindly tap her shoulder and she nods up at Peter, smiling. "She tripped and fell and no one was paying attention to her knee, so I decided to help her."

"That's..." Peter trails off, wondering how you could be so selfless when your own face was looking a bit worse for wear. "That's sweet of you to do. How do you feel, kiddo?"

He kneels towards her, and she grins really big. "Better!"

"Alright, high five then." Peter high fives her, and she dashes off afterwards, most likely looking for the parent she came with.

"Why didn't you respond to my calls?" Peter asks you as soon as you turn back to him. "I thought... I thought the worst had happened-"

"Peter, please. Stop with the wounded ego." May calls him out, listening from the sidelines. "What's important is that she's safe and in one piece- that's more than enough to feel grateful about."

Peter looks down, ashamed. He knows May is right, and he has to swallow his pride for a moment.

"I'm sorry, Peter." You grasp his hand, and he looks back at you, jaw tight as he listens. "I didn't mean to not answer your calls- my phone got shattered. And I didn't know where to find you after I woke up- I was already being taken away by Sable guards to 'safety' and then I decided my best chance to find you was over here."

"Oh." Peter feels kind of dumb, but he also feels glad you think of FEAST as a spot to find him. "I should've kept you safe."

"Don't. Don't make yourself crazy with what you could've done." You plead with him, and he sighs but shakes his head. "My arm will heal with time. I guess I landed on it weirdly and broke it."

Peter winces. "Well, you can always ask me for help if it bothers you. I'm there for you."

He traces your lip, where the cut under is still a red-brown, harsh hue in comparison to the pink of your bottom lip, and May takes this as her cue to leave.

Peter snorts. "I wish you had my-"

"Super healing? Yeah, I wish that too." You laugh. "Were you lucky enough to not get hit, or did you just heal on the way here?"

Peter's reaching for a facial bandage and some rubbing alcohol. "The latter."

"Ugh, lucky bastard." You smile up at him, cringing only slightly as Peter rubs away the blood from your wound. "I'm just glad that means I don't have to worry too much about you."

"You still do." Peter remarks, placing the bandage on your face. "But that just means you love me."

And, being ever so thankful that you're safely back in his arms, Peter places a soft kiss on your forehead, and then a slightly-less-soft one on your mouth, hoping it doesn't hurt you, but happy that you kiss him back anyways.

[whaliiwatching]

a taste of hannibal, a touch of megamind, a shot of venom (pours the whole damn bottle)

i love venom (2018) a lot, it’s my go-to movie when i’m bored or sad, i have seen it many many times. i saw it again a week or so ago with a bud and finally had the opportunity to pen down this lovely au i’ve been thinkin bout

i’ve got a much more fleshed out sketch of how this au plays out. not sure if i’ll write it yet

anyway some bullet points

noir (called, ofc, noir) arrives on earth-138 in the 1920s. his first host is robbie and they basically go through the venom movie, where noir slowly learns to love earth and humanity and all that jazz. up until the 50s or so they’re an investigative reporter and occasionally a scary vigilante superhero!

when robbie is killed (not ewaf style. i forbid it), it fucking devastates noir and he host-hops for a bit, doing fun anarchy things to keep up robbie’s legacy but also losing a few morals here and there. he can do a little murder and eat nazis as a treat

the symbiotes arrive en masse and osborn infects humans with them to turn into his fascist riot police army

through vampire-hunting-esque shenanigans, hobie and noir meet, and strike up a tenuous truce to fight the government. hobie does not like him at first, but noir very much does ;)

cue a slow burn gothic romance between a freedom fighter and a devoted monster <3

[bumpkinspice0]

Parallels Chapter 5

Miguel O'Hara x Spider!FemReader

No use of y/n

Rating: Explicit (Minors DNI!!)

Word Count: 5969

Summary: An anomaly finally makes her way into you dimension and that comes with more than you thought.

Warnings: Canon typical violence (No blood or anything), un-beta'd as hell, S M U T, fingering, Tension, P n V sex (make sure you wrap it before you tap it folks), Praise kink, multiple orgasms, Miguel doesn't use stairs, don't look at me. Small note: I'm making a taglist for this fic! Just comment or message if you want to be added or just interact with this post!

Previous Next

Series Masterlist

AO3

Chapter 5

Fury

Nothing compared to the highest rooftops of New York in the dead of night. Serenity and stillness above the constantly bustling chaos just below— The perfect hiding spot and vantage point. There was so much happening on the ground that people never bothered to look up all that much. Well, maybe they did a little more since you came into the picture.

It was a long journey but you eventually won the hearts of your fellow citizens. After years of fighting it couldn’t be denied that you were only here to help, despite what the Daily Bugle preached every Sunday.

“All units be advised,” the comm crackles in your ear. “Disturbance in Washington Square Park. Suspect reported to be superhuman.”

The largest victory in the past few years was probably getting the cops to finally trust you. Well, trust was a strong word. You could finally get in and fight a threat without having to worry about dodging gunfire or a helicopter chase afterward. The city's precincts were a good mix of welcoming your help with open arms or begrudgingly working with you. Still, it was better than what it had been.

Regardless, the NYPD were your eyes all over the city and you were the last call they hoped they’d never have to make. 

“Call in the spider.”

That’s your cue— and you were finally close for once. Washington Square Park. No more than 5 minutes as the spider swings. You jump from your perch by the river and start making your way there. As you swing more reports come in.

“Suspect armed and dangerous. Explosives used.”

“Immediate area evacuated.”

“Suspect is airborne. Repeat, suspect is airborne. He’s got wings, fella’s.”

Oh, this was ramping up to be a really good night, but the next report nearly sends you tumbling.

“I don’t believe it– it’s— the Goblin. It’s the Green Goblin.”

Norman? No, he’d been dead for years. Killed by his own machines. This had to be a sadistic follower. A copycat. It wouldn’t be the first time you’d dealt with someone following in the footsteps of one of your mortal enemies.

Just another fun perk to this job.

You swing past the police barrier, landing in the circular concrete center of the deserted park. It was completely dark. They must have taken out all the street lamps. You couldn’t hear that god-awful maniacal laughter, but you smelled the residue from that stupid glider. The chemicals from some pumpkin bombs too. They were close, and they’d likely seen you swing in.

“Here, Goblin, Goblin, Goblin,” you taunt as you circle the center fountain. “If you come out we can play nice and maybe talk about our feelings.”

“ Spider-Girl , ” And there was that horrible, scratchy voice only someone with diagnosed insanity would think is cool. It definitely didn’t belong to Norman Osborn, though. You turn in its direction, only greeted with the sight of dark looming trees. “ Love the new suit. ”

“Oh, this old thing,” you mockingly bash, scanning the grassy area, “Just had it lying around, ya know. Not sure it’s really me though.” 

“ Where am I? ” the faceless voice sneers, “ It was daytime. I was flying, then— You. You did this, didn’t you? ”

They were agitated— likely manic and confused, how could they not be if they’d somehow gotten their hands on the Goblin formula. You were the only target they had, and they likely hated you before all of this happened. You opt for the negotiating route.

“Look, buddy. We don’t have to fight,” You slowly raise your hands as a small peace offering, “If you’re confused, we can just—”

The figure bursts from the darkness, grabbing you by the throat and soaring into the night air. So much for negotiating. As you fly past the surrounding skyline you finally get a good look at your villain. 

This goblin was a woman— with the most comically ridiculous pointed goblin ears you’d ever seen. She didn’t ride a proper glider but surfed on what looked more like a rocket. She wore head-to-toe metallic purple with some basic armoring around her mid-section and shoulders. All of her gear was clearly professionally made. 

But there was something else about her. A faint aura. The way her body moved. The lines of her sadistic face— Something not of this world.

She was an anomaly. 

Of course, how did you not think of it before? The one night you didn't wear your watch. It would have alerted you right away. You’d never had an anomaly enter your dimension before. Every one of them you’d faced up until the point was in someone else’s world. Other dimensions already felt so strange and off-kilter to you, you never stopped to think about how truly out of place the anomalies were. They all looked alien when the entire world was alien. 

But this was your neck of the woods. This was your home and she was just so clearly not part of it.

“ How did you do this? ” she steadies her glider and holds you out over empty air.

“Would you believe me if I said this wasn’t your dimension?” You wheeze out in her grasp.

Through some divine comedic timing, she glitches. As her hand phases between worlds, you fall from her grasp. You tumble a few dozen feet before catching yourself on a building. Clinging to the brick, you look back up at your new goblin assailant. 

The glitching comes to a shaky stop and she steadies herself on her rocket glider again. She takes a small moment to look down at her hands, a wave of shock overtaking her green face before it settles into fiendish joy.

“ So... I can travel between dimensions? ” she says more to herself than to you. 

“ Travel is a strong word,” You get her attention. 

She looks at you, “ You’re not my Spider-Girl? ”

“It’s Spider -Woman, actually.” you ready yourself to pounce at any moment. 

“ How many of you are there? ” She asks, anger dotting her words.

“Oh yeah sure, just let me just give you a quick overview of the multiverse,” Without giving her time to react you shoot a web to the tip of her rocket glider, thrusting it off kilter in one motion. She goes flying. You jump after her, “That’s a terrible glider design by the way.”

“ Insolent brat! ” She screams, reaching out her hand. You reach for her, only to instantly be met with open air as she’s swept away by the glider. She can summon her dumb rocket- surfboard. 

Of course.

You bank to her right, shooting web to at least immobilize her hands. Any web that gets near her is immediately slashed by blades now protruding from her wrists. You aim for her glider again, but she easily bobs and weaves past all of your shots now that she knows what to expect. She was better on that thing than you thought.

You jump, sticking yourself to the underside of the rocket glider. If you can’t stop her, then you’ll just have to dance with her.

“ You think you're a match for the Goblin QUEEN? ” She sneers, whipping around wildly to fling you off.

“Oh, apologies, your majesty. ” You rip off a panel of the flying device, grabbing at any cables and wiring you can, “I didn’t realize I was in the presence of royalty.”

She grunts in frustration, whipping you to the left and slamming you into the nearest building. In the midst of the searing impact, you lose your grip on her. 

“ Pathetic.” She swings around to hover in front of you, “ You’re not my Spider, but you’ll do for now. ” She barrels toward you at full force, a massive blade unsheathing from the front of her glider. Without time to jump, you catch her glider— holding her at arm's length while the blade extends out to mere inches from your face.

The brick around you cracks and crumbles as the full force of her glider pushes down on you.

“��I’ll kill you, then I’ll harness this power and kill ALL of you,” Oh great, she was monologging , “ Every Spider, dead by my hands. This is what I was born to do!”

“M-might wanna check that ego, lady!” you grunt, hiking up your feet to push back on the body of her glider. It was awkward but you had the leverage— you just don’t know how long you can hold it.

You kick your legs up, using her own force against her, and send her spiraling backward. You immediately get out of your cornered position and head back towards the open park. If she was covered in knives and reportedly using explosives, best to keep her away from any buildings. Make her focus all of her attention on you. You stand in the center circle again as she hovers overhead.

“ You can’t run, Spider-Woman, ” She taunts, “ And you can’t win .”

You don’t time have for a witty remark before she’s charging at you again, her glider's blade front and center.

You’re about to act when a bassy boom crackles and rips through the air, giving you both pause.

Then you feel it— A buzzing at the base of your skull. 

Oh, you gotta be fucking kidding.  

The portal forms just to your right. His webs appear first, red treads shooting from the golden light. They latch onto her glider. The Goblin, shocked, attempts to correct her course, pulling Miguel the rest of the way out of the portal with her. He stands strong, several strands of webs in each hand. He whips his lassos downward, sending her flying off the glider. Before she can summon it back he whips his arms again, redirecting it straight into the ground. It explodes instantly.

He drops the webbing and shakes off his shoulders. He turns to you, sleek mask obscuring his face. He was here. He was actually here.

“Uh, Thanks,” You say, “Was trying to get her off that stupid thing for like 10 minutes now.”

“Don’t mention it,” Though you can’t see it, you can hear the smile in his voice.

“Two of you now? ” your assailant broods from the shadows. You and Miguel immediately stand back to back at the sound of her voice, “ No matter, you’ve stopped nothing. You can’t stop Fury. You can’t stop destiny. ”

“Oh, she’s a monologuer,” Miguel scoffs.

“Mhm, she’s already vowed to kill all of spider-kind.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” he tuts back.

“Are all of you always so arrogant?” She sneers.

“Pretty much,” You answer.

What happens next you still can’t fully articulate. It was a matter of milliseconds, yet it felt as if the world moved at half its normal speed. 

You feel it before you see or hear it. She throws three pumpkin bombs. Before the devices even leave her hands you know exactly what direction they're coming from in the darkness— And seemingly so does Miguel. You move together in perfect unison, dodging the explosives as they implode on the ground. She starts circling the two of you, throwing bomb after bomb. Still, not one touches you. Here in a complete darkness, it’s like you could feel every move she was going to make.

“Damned Spiders,” She  grunts in frustration as she throws another pumpkin bomb into the concrete clearing. This one doesn’t explode on impact though. You and Miguel pause.

“Smoke!” He shouts, just a second too late. Pink gas explodes from the device. You’re able to escape only after having gotten a lung full of the nasty stuff. You cough and wheeze, barely able to swing to safety in the sparse trees. Miguel is nowhere to be seen, but you can sense him nearby. Maybe this spider-sense thing was coming in handy for once.

Goblin laughter from behind sends a shiver up your spine. You turn to see her perched in an oak tree. Just a few yards beyond her, a broad figure lurks in the settling pink mist. To catch this one, you had to be smarter. You’d have to lure her in— and part of you thinks Miguel has the same idea.

“Not bad, for a Psychopath,” you dust your legs off.

“ I think you mean visionary ,” She croons. “ You and your brutish Spider-man are no match for- ”

“Say’s the lady with no ride and a quickly dwindling supply of Spirit Halloween props.” You glance over and Miguel crouches down to all fours— Ready to pounce at exactly the right moment. Her guard is still up, if he jumped now he’d be met with a grenade directly to the face. You could distract her. Get all of her attention on you again. She obviously liked to talk, so…

“How do you even become Queen of the Goblins ?” You ask, leaning against a tree. “Is there a king? Is it David Bowie?!”

“ Silence! ” She screams. When in doubt, always go for the ego with super villains, “ I was chosen by Norman Osborn. Chosen at birth and raised for this purpose. ”

“Norman Osborn is dead.” you sneer, “And he certainly isn’t bestowing his messed up legacy on babies.”

“ In your reality, maybe. In mine, he’s a god, ” She crouches down, “ But you’ve opened my eyes to the possibilities, dear. Osborn lives, somewhere out there. I’ll find him. I’ll rally the goblins and we’ll finally kill you all.”

“Norman Osborn is dead ,” You repeat, “He always dies. Always . And it’s always a Spider standing over him.”

“ Not anymore.” You see her face contort in anger. Attacking her goblin cult leader must be the way to go.

“You know why?” You step toward her, “Because he’s weak.” 

“Shut. Your. Mouth. ”

“Just a weak, pathetic, ordinary , man.”

“ Shut up! ”

You ready yourself, “Make me.”

She barely gets a foot off her branch before Miguel pounces from behind. All in an instant, he grabs her, pinning her arms to her chest— a portal forms above you, and Miguel, Goblin Queen in hand, fly’s through it.

It blips closed before you can follow. You instinctively reach for your watch, only to realize again you did wear it tonight. Of course, that’d make everything too easy. Why would you wear it if you weren’t planning on an interdimensional battle tonight? A mistake, you assure yourself, you’ll never make again.

The brief thought of hurrying directly home and following Miguel flashes through your mind. Even if you could somehow get back to your Brooklyn apartment in a matter of minutes, you still had other duties to attend to. The sound of several officers entering the park brings you back to reality. Miguel was a pro— he could handle it from here. You needed to let your people know the situation was taken care of.

You speak with the Sargent and Captain at the scene, spinning some lie about her being a deranged follower and one of her bombs malfunctioning, and vaporizing her instantly. It was absolutely ridiculous but they trusted you to never lead them astray. Better to lie here than release the secret of access to the multiverse. The threat to your city was gone. That’s all that mattered.

You, fortunately, manage to escape a press statement this time, regretfully leaving that task up to Captain Stacy. He was better with the cameras than you were anyway.

It’s nearly 3 a.m. when you finally get back home, sneaking into the building through your rooftop perch. Honestly, it’s an earlier night than most. Your back aches from being slammed into a brick wall and your head is still spinning from whiplash. A hot shower and your bed sounded like paradise.

Your building was an old warehouse renovated sometime in the 2000s. It used to be a massive bakery. You swear you can still smell freshly baked bread in the bricks some 20 years later. You fucking loved your apartment. Vaulted ceilings, massive industrial windows, and a lofted bedroom. You were able to afford it out of sheer luck. 

Some business tycoon's daughter was kidnaped. When you returned her safely he handed you a briefcase with hundreds of thousands in cash, refusing to take no for an answer. You felt dirty taking it but you were flat broke since starting college and the medical bills from your nightly activities were piling up. You were younger then— and desperate. 

Jack seemed amazed you were even feeling remorse for it at the time.

“You’ve saved this city how many times?!” he’d scold you. “I think you can have something for almost dying for the people of this town on a bi-weekly basis.”

Part of you agreed and part of you felt you were straying from the path— whatever that meant. Jack begged you to get something nice for yourself— so, you got this place and vowed never to take money for your job ever again. You fell in love as soon as you saw it. Your safe haven. Spider HQ, as Jack affectionately called it. 

Miguel had an entire tower, you could have more than a shoebox apartment.    

He was probably back at the tower now. You grab your watch and check the villain logs. Lyla kept a detailed list of who’d been captured and where. And there she was, right at the top. 

Fury the Goblin Queen: Earth-982

Status- Captured: Earth-727 at 2200 hours

He handled it. Nothing else to worry about. You let out a heavy sigh and peal off your suit, sports bra, and underwear. A scorching hot shower and some ibuprofen were calling your name. 

You’re about to climb the steps to your bathroom when you feel a slight tremble in the walls along with a buzzing in your head.

Again? Right now? You’re suddenly very aware of your complete nakedness and quickly grab one of your long abandoned t-shirts from a kitchen stool to cover up with. The baggy shirt barely brushed the tops of your thighs but it’ll have to do.

The golden portal formed in your living room, a still fully suited Miguel emerging from it. It closes behind him with a deep rumble.

“Thanks for waking all my neighbors up,” you pinch the bridge of your nose.

His mask fades away, revealing that stupid handsome face, “You didn’t follow.” he simply says.

“Didn’t have my watch. I won’t happen again.”

“You didn’t check in, either.”

“Didn’t think I needed to,” you groan, rubbing the back of your stinging neck, “I just got home after defusing the scene for 2 hours. Sorry if it slipped my mind.” The last part comes out more bitchy than you intend but you were fucking tired. And he comes to your home— To what? Berate you about protocol? Fuck off.

“Sorry, just wanted to make sure you were okay.” He says, earnestly. Okay, well now you do feel a little bit like a bitch. 

He could have just called or asked Lyla to check up on you, be he came himself. He was here, in your apartment. The realization makes your spider sense spike. 

He’s here and you're both alone.

“I’ve… never fought with you before,” He says, relaxing his posture, “You did good.”

“You too,” you say passively. You lean against the kitchen counter, letting the following silence linger into uncomfortable territory. What else was there to say? He came to make sure you were okay, the villains locked up and your dimension isn’t crumbling. Still, that dreaded sixth sense pulled at you to keep him here. Just a little longer, “Has it ever felt like that before?” you finally ask.

“Has what?” he furrows his eyebrows. 

“Fighting… with another spider,” You clarify, “When we were in the clearing— When she was throwing the bombs. The way we moved, it felt so—”

“Instinctual,” He finishes, taking a step toward you. “No, it’s never felt that way. It’s like you knew what to do. Like you knew what I was thinking.”

“Yeah,” You shy away from his gaze. You suddenly feel the gravity of it all. While you were grateful for the benefits of the spider sense, something was wrong with you. With both of you. This wasn’t a normal spider-sense. Whatever this was, was like a brick through the window of your daily life. Something was triggered in you, and you couldn’t turn it off. Now you’ll probably never be normal again— not that you really were before.

Everything felt perfect before. The city finally accepted you, a new job you were proud of, and new friends just like you. People that could understand in a way no one else could. You’d found a balance and a new passion for being Spider-Woman. Now, for the first time in years, you cursed your abilities. You doubted yourself. An outsider again, even amongst your own kind.

“Hey.” Miguel’s voice brings you out of the spiral. He’s standing directly in front of you. When did he get so close? “You okay, little spider?”

The nickname makes your cheeks flush.

“Yeah, I—” You stop yourself from rambling, bringing your hand up to your cheek “This is kinda fucked up, isn’t it? You and me?”

He snorts a small laugh, “Yeah, kinda.”

“Whatta we supposed to do, Miguel?” you ask yourself, more than him. Even if his test showed something, then what? Just learn to live with it, you suppose.

“Business as usual,” He reiterates from the other day in his room. Why did business as usual feel so difficult then? You’re not even sure what that means around him. A silence stirs between you two again, but this time you feel something building. Your mind screams at you to touch him. To let him take control and ravish you. You squeeze your legs together, doing your best to hide it even though it’s no use. If you felt it, he felt it too.

“I should go.” He finally says, voice barely above a whisper.

“Sure,” you nod. Neither of you moves. You see the hunger behind his brilliant red eyes.

You hesitantly reach out, running a hand up his broad chest. You needed something— Just a little of him. His breath hitches at the contact but he doesn’t shy away. His suit’s technology ripples in the wake of your touch, illuminating and fading away to show the rich, tan skin underneath— before phasing back in an instant. He grabs your wrist, halting your movement at his stomach. You can feel his heart rate rising under your touch.

He pulls you in, lips crashing in a frenzy of movement. You throw your arms over his shoulders as he pins you against the kitchen counter. His arms cage you in as his massive body overwhelms you.

Every move you make is feverish and desperate, begging for more of him. His tongue selfishly delves into your mouth and you moan at the taste of him. The sensation sends your head reeling. He bites at your lower lip before ghosting down to your neck. He was hungry— so were you.

Your head is spinning. All your pain and exhaustion now completely forgotten and replaced with pure, unbridled lust. The connection screams in gratitude, finally getting what it wanted.

“Miguel,” You sigh into his hair, as he leaves a trail of hickeys down your shoulder.

“I know,” He moans without halting his work, “ Lo sé. Yo también lo siento. ”

His bare hand snakes up your leg and hitches around the hem of your t-shirt. He pauses when he feels nothing else there. 

“How scandalous.” He smiles against your skin, running his calloused hand across your bare hips. You shiver in response, suddenly unable to articulate language. He cradles your head with his other hand as he buries his nose in your hair, “Oh god, you smell so—you’re so—”

He runs his open hand over your bare cunt. You gasp and arch into him, rolling your hips over his fingers. Greedily rocking back and forth against his rough hand, you coat his fingers with your growing arousal. He moves his hand gingerly as you do so. He gently runs his middle finger along your seam before thrusting it inside.

You swing your head back with a moan, clawing at his shoulders. He takes the opportunity to devour your neck again while working his hand in and out of you. You’re at his complete mercy. Whatever he wanted from you, he could have— you’d happily give it.

His mass threatens to topple you over the counter. You hook your leg around his hips, opening yourself to him more. You feel his entire body vibrate with a moan as his lips proceed to explore every single inch of you that they can. His thumb comes up to work against your clit and it sends you to a new level.

“P-please!” You gasp. You’re not entirely sure why you say it.

He pauses all of his movements, glowing red eyes meeting yours, “Please what?” it’s more of a demand than a question. 

Tell me what you want.

It takes a moment for your brain to catch up with your mouth, “Please fuck me.”

Then you see a shift in him. Like his eyes glaze over and somehow become more animalistic. It sets all of your hair on end and a new wave of arousal washing over your senses. 

His voice drops an octave, “Where’s—” 

“Upstairs.” you barely pant out, glancing up at your bedroom just above you. He follows your eyes, quickly taking the hint. 

“Okay, little spider. Okay,” he ever so slowly draws his fingers out from your slick heat. You whimper at the sensation. His hands trace over your soft thighs before hooking under them. He lifts you like nothing at all and your lips come crashing back to his. You entangle your limbs around him as he walks you both out of the kitchen and to the open living room. He doesn’t go towards the stairs though, instead walking to the opposite wall. Before you can correct him, his hands are off you— talons digging into your living room wall.

He scales the bricks as you cling to him, not stopping your hungry kissing for a single beat. His powerful limbs move under you with brute force but his torso still holds steady for you to carry yourself on. A small reminder of just how strong he was.

He hoists you both over the railing of your loft and carries you to the bed, dropping you into the messy, unmade sheets. His hand comes to the collar of your shirt, ripping it down the middle. You shrug off the shreds and briefly wonder if you’ll ever be able to do this without ruining any clothes.

He takes a moment to drink in your naked form, eyes slowly traveling down the curves of your body. You squirm under his gaze— Your breasts heaving up and down in anticipation. 

“Miguel,” you reach out to him.

Come here. Please.

His head twitches, eyes darting back to your face. His small trance broken, he smiles down at you. The edges of his suit start to fade away in a pale blue glow until there’s nothing left but a pair of black boxer briefs, his form silhouetted by the streetlights from the window. He hastily removes the underwear, freeing his throbbing hard cock. You drink him in, in all his glory. 

He trails his massive hands back up your thighs and over your torso as he crawls on top of you. His hands are scorching and rough. He pauses at your breasts, running his thumbs over each pebbled nipple. 

He takes one into his mouth, kneading the other roughly. You squirm under him, gasping at the contact. His cock twitches against your stomach. He seems to revel in it— watching you fall apart by his hand. You can’t say mind much either.

“Miguel, please,” You beg, pulling at his hair. He lazily comes off your breast, lulling his tongue over your nipple before rising completely.

“So impatient , ” he murmurs. He brings his hand down and runs his fingers through your wet folds, slowly gathering your arousal. He sits back, towering over you. He strokes his massive length, covering himself with you. His gaze burns into you as he puts on the show— small gasps escaping him with every stroke.

Look at what you do to me.

He crawls down your body. You bring your legs up from under him and hook them around his waist. He reaches down and guides his cock to your entrance. The blunt tip presses dauntingly against you and then you, only for a moment, worry you can’t take him— Then he rolls his hips forward. Your face contorts into a blissful silent scream as he begins stretching you to your limits.

“Oh god,” He moans as he slowly takes you inch by inch. He rolls his hips lightly before burying himself to the hilt. You’re legs are already quivering around him. “Relax for me.” He whispers into your ear.

He starts the pace slow, drawing out almost completely before rolling back in. Each dauntingly slow stroke of his cock was a wave of sensory overload. He had you stretched to near painful limits but with each steady thrust, it melted into pure pleasure, your body relaxing around him.

A little faster now, you start to roll your hips with him. Once your rhythm is set, he brings his starved mouth back down to yours. You moan into him, feeling it reverberate in both your chests. You consume each other greedily.

Your sense is singing in absolute ecstasy. 

It’s never felt this way before. You’d had a meager handful of lovers in your life, often leaving you wanting and disappointed— But this? This was something entirely different. Something so deep-rooted and primal. It scared you. It excited you. 

“ He pensado en esto durante tanto tiempo.” He murmurs into you, “ Te sientes asombrosa.”

You absolutely do not have the brain capacity to even attempt to understand him right now. Still, the way he so lovingly says it makes your heart swell.

“You sound like sin,” He grunts against your neck, “It’s fucking beautiful. Eres hermosa, mi arañita. ”

Your growing arousal makes you more vocal with each movement— the coil in your belly already tightening more and more. Your sinful screams bounce off the walls of your apartment and back to you.

He’s leaving a growing trail of marks across your shoulders, evidence that he’s been there. You can’t say that you disapprove of the reminder. He’s so vigorous in all of his movements with you, it was getting close to overwhelming. 

You’d thought of this— you’d dreamed about it for months now and he was incomparable to whatever you could have possibly imagined. Not just because his dick was proving to be something out of this world— well, you suppose it was—  but because it was just him. His smell, his sound, his taste— he overwhelmed your every sense as he made love to you. 

He hits something new and deep inside you, and you jump under him. He takes notice. Of course, he does. He devastatingly slams his hips forward into the same spot again. Electricity surges through you.

“Oh, that’s it, isn’t it? You like that?” He chuckles, thrusting into the same hypersensitive spot over and over. A few more thrust and it was your undoing. 

You can’t even warn him before it hits you like a freight train.

You claw down his back as your orgasm overtakes you. Limbs numbing and mind blacking out to nothingness for brief seconds, it was almost too much. Quivering beneath him, he works you through it. Each thrust extends your blinding pleasure just slightly longer before it subsides into maddening overstimulation. 

“Good Girl,” He moans against your ear, “S-so, fucking tight. So good.” 

He doesn’t slow his pace, continuing to fuck you through your prolonged high. He takes full advantage of it. You gasp for any air you can, every nerve in your body threatening to burn up in the euphoria.

“One more,” he grunts, “I know you have one more for me.”

He nuzzles into your neck, teeth bearing down on the soft flesh there. The pearl gleam of his fangs flashes in your mind, and you know you should be afraid— but you're not. The idea of him drawing blood is strangely pleasing. His tongue licks up along the reddened mark his teeth have left there.

Then he shifts you— untangling your legs from him and pulling your hips up off the bed. You plant your feet as he holds your shaky hips. He rises and starts to thrust down into you, bringing his fingers to your clit, and rubbing small circles over your already fried nerves. God, he looked fucking magnificent towering above you— His face pure lust. Eye’s lidded and glossy, sweat pecking at his brow.

You grasp at the sheets, trying to find any sense of stability. Another wave is washing over you, “M-Miguel. Miguel, I’m gonna—”

It rips through you quicker than your first, but no less powerful. Your voice catches in your throat as you gasp for air, eyes rolling to the back of your head. 

“That’s it. That’s it,” he chants as crawls back over you, pulling you closer, “Fuck, you feel so good when you—”

His steady pace becomes sporadic as he chases his own relief. You feel his hips start to quake and his eyes go completely red.

“W-where?” he gasps.

“God— inside!” you scream impatiently. You can inform him of your birth control after, though he seems to take the hint.

He cums with a string of grunts uttered into the sheets next to your head, hips shuttering still as he pushes as deep inside you as you can. You feel him throbbing against your walls as he fills you. Every muscle in his body is quivering and tense and then… he relaxes completely. You hold him close, arms and legs wrapping around him. You bury your nose in the nape of his neck, memorizing his musky scent.

You both stay there for what felt like hours, in unmoving silence. Breathing each other’s heavy air, clinging to the other’s body. Truth be told, it was probably less than a minute, but it stretched on for eternity. 

He’s the first to move, rising up to rest his sweaty forehead against yours, “Holy shit.”

How romantic. But that pretty much summed up your feelings too. 

“Holy shit.” you chuckle lightly in agreement. You notice while coming down from your sexual high your spider sense has also been tamed into silence yet again. That was to be expected but there was something else this time. A new level of satisfaction. You can’t help but wonder what it’s like on his end, “What’s it feel like... For you?”

“It’s…Peaceful. Satiated and content.” he says, rolling onto his side. Your breath hitches at the loss of him. “It felt satisfied before when we… but now…”

“It’s different.” You finish his line of thought. It was vague and incredibly obvious, but how else could you possibly describe a sensation you’d never felt before? Yeah, it was different, but how? You just simply didn’t have the words— not yet. 

It was everything and nothing you’d ever known before. He made you feel that way.

“Will you stay?” you find yourself saying before you can stop yourself. He’s obviously taken aback.

“I don’t—”

“Just- just for a little while.” You quickly try to backtrack a little. It feels needy and clingy but you feel like if he left you’d be lying awake for hours with your spider sense screaming at you. Just hold you for a little while? Is that so much to ask? You’re worried you just massively overstepped a boundary… but then his expression softens into a faint smile.

“Sure, little spider. For a little while.”

_____________________________________

Lo sé. Yo también lo siento- I know. I feel it too He pensado en esto durante tanto tiempo- I’ve thought about this for so long Te sientes asombrosa.- You feel amazing Eres hermosa, mi arañita- You’re beautiful, my little spider

For the love of god, please let me know if any of this is wrong.

Fury the Goblin Queen is a character from the Mayday Parker Spider-Girl comics! They were my favorites growing up and I thought Fury was cool as shit. She surfs on a fucking rocket, like come on. Too bad she was raised in a cult though.

[spider-mandaily]

What are your opinions on Gwen Stacy?

Alright, Anon, strap in because we’re about to go DEEP into every version of Gwen Stacy across comics, movies, TV, games, and animation. I think that Gwen Stacy isn’t just a character—she’s a cornerstone of the Spider-Man mythos who has transcended her origins. Let’s explore her legacy in excruciating detail.

COMICS GWEN STACY: THE FOUNDATION OF A LEGACY

Earth-616 Gwen Stacy: The Original Love Interest

Gwen Stacy’s first appearance in The Amazing Spider-Man #31 (1965) by Stan Lee and Steve Ditko establishes her as one of Peter Parker’s first major love interests. She’s a fellow student at Empire State University, introduced alongside Harry Osborn. Gwen is immediately striking: intelligent, confident, and beautiful. But her personality is far more layered than the archetype suggests.

In the early issues, Gwen is portrayed as a complex mix of warmth and insecurity. It is important for us to know and understand that Gwen did not initially build an attraction towards Peter here, not to mention that they only first met each other in college and not in highschool. While she and Peter obviously get much closer later, both in their own ways, at moment she did not really like him, as Peter’s constant worrying of Aunt May caused him to ignore his classmates almost entirely!

Yet, later, she obviously quickly develops feelings for Peter, but his double life as Spider-Man keeps pulling him away from their budding relationship. This causes tension, and Gwen’s emotional volatility mirrors Peter’s struggles. For example, in The Amazing Spider-Man #33, while Peter is fighting to save Aunt May’s life (the iconic “lifting the rubble” scene), Gwen is frustrated by his absence at school. This conflict becomes a recurring theme—Gwen represents Peter’s longing for a normal life, but his Spider-Man responsibilities constantly sabotage their happiness.

One of Gwen’s most defining moments comes in The Amazing Spider-Man #90 (1970), when her father, Captain George Stacy, dies during a fight between Spider-Man and Doctor Octopus. As Captain Stacy dies, he reveals that he knows Peter is Spider-Man and asks Peter to protect Gwen. This moment cements Peter’s sense of responsibility toward Gwen, but it also adds layers of guilt, as he indirectly blames himself for Captain Stacy’s death. Gwen, unaware of Spider-Man’s identity, is devastated and begins to distance herself emotionally.

“The Night Gwen Stacy Died”

Gwen’s death in The Amazing Spider-Man #121-122 (1973) is one of the most famous—and controversial—events in comic book history. The Green Goblin (Norman Osborn) kidnaps Gwen and throws her off the George Washington Bridge (though the comic mistakenly refers to it as the Brooklyn Bridge). Peter attempts to save her with his webbing, but the sudden stop causes her neck to snap, killing her instantly.

This event shattered readers in the 1970s. Gwen’s death marked a turning point in superhero storytelling, transitioning from the lighthearted Silver Age to the darker, more mature Bronze Age. It wasn’t just that Gwen died—it was how she died. Peter’s failure to save her, despite his best efforts, highlighted the harsh reality that even superheroes can’t save everyone. This moment haunts Peter for the rest of his life and becomes a foundational part of Spider-Man’s mythos.

Spider-Gwen/Spider-Woman (Earth-65): The Hero Reborn

Decades later, in Edge of Spider-Verse #2 (2014), Jason Latour and Robbi Rodriguez reimagined Gwen Stacy as Spider-Woman in an alternate universe. On Earth-65, it’s Gwen who is bitten by the radioactive spider instead of Peter Parker. This reinvention flips her traditional role on its head—she’s no longer a victim but a hero in her own right.

Spider-Gwen’s world is a vibrant punk-rock-infused universe. Gwen is the drummer for a band called The Mary Janes (with lead singer Mary Jane Watson). Her costume—sleek white with pink-and-black accents and a hood—is instantly iconic.

Her backstory carries shades of Peter’s original guilt: in this universe, her friend Peter Parker becomes the Lizard after experimenting on himself to gain powers. Gwen, as Spider-Woman, is forced to fight him, and he dies as a result. This tragedy defines her heroic journey, much like Uncle Ben’s death defines Peter’s. Spider-Gwen’s adventures explore themes of identity, guilt, and redemption, while also letting her team up with other Spider-heroes in events like Spider-Verse and Spider-Geddon.

In later series like Spider-Gwen: Ghost-Spider, Gwen’s multiverse-crossing adventures showcase her growth as a leader. She frequently interacts with Earth-616 Peter, Miles Morales, and other Spider-people, cementing her place as a fan-favorite in the Spider-Man family.

GWEN STACY IN LIVE-ACTION MOVIES

Bryce Dallas Howard in Spider-Man 3 (2007)

In Sam Raimi’s Spider-Man 3, Gwen Stacy is played by Bryce Dallas Howard, but this version of the character is underwhelming. She’s introduced as a rival love interest to Mary Jane Watson, functioning as little more than a plot device to create tension between Peter and MJ. While Howard looks the part and has a few moments of charm, I think this Gwen lacks depth or connection to the tragedy that defines her in the comics. But still, I did enjoy her portrayal of Gwen Stacy.

Emma Stone in The Amazing Spider-Man Series (2012-2014)

Emma Stone’s portrayal of Gwen Stacy in Marc Webb’s The Amazing Spider-Man and its sequel is widely regarded as one of the best live-action adaptations of a Spider-Man character. This Gwen is smart, ambitious, and deeply involved in Peter’s life, both as a romantic partner and a teammate which was seriously groundbreaking to watch in my opinion.

In the first film, Gwen works as an intern at Oscorp, where she demonstrates her scientific brilliance. She’s not just a damsel in distress—she actively helps Peter in his battle against the Lizard, providing the antidote to stop Dr. Curt Connors’ plan.

The chemistry between Emma Stone and Andrew Garfield is electric, making their relationship one of the highlights of the series. In The Amazing Spider-Man 2, Gwen’s ambitions take center stage—she plans to study in England, creating conflict with Peter, who fears for her safety.

Gwen’s death in The Amazing Spider-Man 2 is a direct homage to The Amazing Spider-Man #121. The scene is heart-wrenching, with Peter failing to save her in a moment that mirrors his comic-book tragedy. Emma Stone’s performance in this scene captures the raw emotion of Gwen’s loss, making it one of the most memorable moments in superhero cinema.

GWEN STACY IN ANIMATION

A Multiversal Version Of Gwen Stacy Only Appeared Once In Spider-Man: The Animated Series (1994-1998)

Gwen Stacy didn't initially appear in the hit '90s adaptation Spider-Man: The Animated Series, which focused on love interests like Mary Jane Watson and Felicia Hardy/Black Cat instead. However, an alternate reality version of Gwen Stacy later appeared in the season's two-part final, "Spider Wars." I think that this version (voiced by Mary Kay Bergman) was unique. She'd survived past her death in the comic timeline and gotten engaged to her Peter Parker, who'd created a powerful Spider-Armor before he was recruited to save the multiverse from Spider-Carnage.

The Spectacular Spider-Man (2008-2009)

In this critically acclaimed series, Gwen Stacy is voiced by Lacey Chabert. This version of Gwen is Peter’s best friend and academic rival, portrayed as shy and awkward but fiercely intelligent. The show builds her relationship with Peter slowly, making her feelings for him feel earned rather than rushed.

Gwen’s emotional depth is a highlight of the series, especially in her interactions with Peter and her struggles with her own insecurities. The show ended prematurely, but its portrayal of Gwen is widely regarded as one of the best adaptations.

Ghost-Spider Joined The Multiversal Web-Warriors In Ultimate Spider-Man vs. The Sinister Six (2012-2017)

DisneyXD aired the Ultimate Spider-Man animated series, which took on the new title of Ultimate Spider-Man vs. The Sinister Six for the fourth and final season. The series introduced an alternate version of Gwen Stacy/Spider-Gwen (voiced by Dove Cameron).

This version of the character hailed from Miles Morales/Kid Arachnid's home reality. She used technology to replicate Miles Morales' powers and became her reality's protector after Miles stayed in Spider-Man's home reality.

Ghost Spider Joined An Animated Team Of Secret Warriors In The Marvel Rising (2018 - ) Movie Specials

A new series of animated specials that highlighted new waves of young heroes debuted in 2018 under the Marvel Rising banner, which featured Daisy Johnson/Quake as she organized a team that would become known as the Secret Warriors. (This team would eventually include Gwen Stacy/Ghost-Spider).

The character's storyline followed Spider-Gwen's comic origins, although it was blended into the main Marvel universe continuity for Marvel Rising, which also saw Dove Cameron reprise her role as Gwen from Ultimate Spider-Man.

Marvel's Spider-Man (2017 - ) Explored Gwen Stacy's Connection To Dr. Miles Warren/The Jackal

The most recent animated series debuted in 2017 as Marvel's Spider-Man, and included Gwen Stacy (voiced by Laura Bailey) as one of the brilliant students of the reimagined Horizon High, alongside other popular characters like Miles Morales and Anya Corazon/Spider-Girl, all of whom would soon team up with Spider-Man as costumed superheroes. The series merged Gwen with her alternate reality Spider-Gwen character and reimagined her relationship with The Jackal, who became her uncle instead of a twisted admirer. Marvel's Spider-Man is the only adaptation that attempted to explore their long comic history in any form.

Ghost-Spider Appeared Alongside Spider-Man In Marvel Super Hero Adventures (2017-2020)

Spider-Man and his allies star in Disney Junior's Marvel Super Hero Adventures, which began airing in 2017 with kid-friendly stories that teamed the wall-crawler with various heroes in the Marvel Universe, including an alternate reality Gwen Stacy/Ghost-Spider (voiced by Emily Tennant).

Ghost-Spider only appeared in costume in the series, which never explored her character much beyond her various adventures with Spider-Man as they took on classic villains from his rogues' gallery, like Doctor Octopus and The Rhino.

Ghost-Spider Appeared In Disney Jr.'s Marvel's Spidey and His Amazing Friends (2021- )

Disney Jr. launched a new team-up series in 2021 called Spidey and his Amazing Friends, which teamed popular Marvel characters up with Spider-Man. Gwen Stacy appeared as Ghost-Spider in the series, voiced by Lily Sanfelippo.

Ghost-Spider's costume was simplified and adapted with web wings under her arms to allow her to glide, while her unmasked appearance was similar to her Marvel Rising design, which borrowed the pink highlights from the unrelated character Gwenpool.

Into the Spider-Verse (2018) and Across the Spider-Verse (2023)

Hailee Steinfeld voices Spider-Gwen in Into the Spider-Verse, bringing Earth-65’s Gwen to life in stunning animation. This Gwen is confident, stylish, and a skilled hero. Her tragic backstory—losing her universe’s Peter Parker—adds emotional weight to her character.

In Across the Spider-Verse, Gwen’s relationship with her father takes center stage, and the film delves deeper into her struggles as a hero. The watercolor-inspired visuals of her universe reflect her emotional state, creating some of the most visually stunning moments in the film.

LEGACY AND CULTURAL IMPACT

I think that Gwen Stacy’s journey from her debut in 1965 to her modern incarnations as Spider-Gwen is a testament to her lasting relevance in the Spider-Man mythos and beyond. Her character’s impact is profound, not just in shaping the narrative of Spider-Man comics but in redefining how female characters are treated in superhero storytelling. Gwen Stacy has evolved from a symbol of tragedy to one of empowerment, resonating across generations and media. Here’s a detailed exploration of her legacy and cultural significance.

1. A Pivotal Turning Point in Superhero Storytelling

“The Night Gwen Stacy Died” as a Defining Moment

Gwen’s death in The Amazing Spider-Man #121-122 (1973) marked a seismic shift in the tone of superhero comics. Before this storyline, most comic book narratives were marked by optimism and clear-cut morality. Heroes won, villains lost, and the status quo was preserved. However, Gwen’s death broke these conventions, ushering in the darker and more complex stories of the Bronze Age of Comics.

This moment is often credited with demonstrating that superhero stories could be serious literature. Gwen’s death wasn’t a mere plot device—it was a statement about the fallibility of heroes, the unpredictability of life, and the consequences of being a superhero. Spider-Man’s failure to save Gwen highlighted the vulnerability of even the most powerful characters, humanizing Peter Parker in a way few heroes had been before.

Her death also introduced the concept of “fridging” into the superhero genre, a term coined by comic book writer Gail Simone. Fridging refers to the trope of female characters being killed off or harmed to advance a male character’s story. While Gwen’s death is undeniably iconic, it has also been a focal point for criticism, as it set a precedent for how women in comics were often treated as disposable. This discourse around her death remains relevant in modern discussions about representation in media.

2. Redefining Gwen Stacy: From Tragedy to Empowerment

The Birth of Spider-Gwen

The creation of Spider-Gwen in 2014 transformed Gwen Stacy from a symbol of loss into a symbol of empowerment. Her alternate-universe counterpart on Earth-65 flips the script by making her the hero, not the victim. Spider-Gwen’s debut in Edge of Spider-Verse #2 immediately struck a chord with readers, proving that Gwen’s story wasn’t confined to being Peter Parker’s doomed love interest.

Spider-Gwen’s success is a reflection of changing cultural attitudes toward female characters in comics. Her stories center her agency, independence, and growth as a hero, allowing her to step out of Peter’s shadow. The themes of guilt and redemption that underpin her narrative add emotional complexity, but they are no longer defined by her relationship to a male character. Instead, Spider-Gwen grapples with her own choices and the consequences of her actions, solidifying her place as a standalone hero.

Spider-Gwen’s Cultural Resonance

Spider-Gwen’s punk-rock aesthetic and iconic costume design by Robbi Rodriguez have made her one of the most visually recognizable characters in the Marvel universe. Her white-and-pink suit with its hooded design is a cosplay favorite and has become synonymous with the modern reinvention of superheroes. This design’s success speaks to the importance of visual storytelling in creating a character’s identity, as Spider-Gwen’s look reflects her rebellious, independent spirit.

The popularity of Spider-Gwen also reflects a shift in comic book audiences. As the medium has expanded to include more women and younger readers, characters like Spider-Gwen have provided new entry points into the superhero genre. Her stories resonate with themes of self-discovery and perseverance, making her a role model for a diverse audience.

3. Gwen Stacy as a Multiverse Icon

I truly believe that the multiverse concept has allowed Gwen Stacy to exist in multiple forms, each contributing to her legacy in unique ways. While Earth-616 Gwen remains a tragic figure, Spider-Gwen has become a vital part of Marvel’s exploration of alternate realities. The Spider-Verse events, both in comics and on-screen, have positioned Gwen as a key player in multiverse narratives, showing how her character transcends her original timeline.

“Into the Spider-Verse” and “Across the Spider-Verse”

Once again, the animated films Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018) and Across the Spider-Verse (2023) have brought Gwen Stacy’s multiversal identity to a global audience. Hailee Steinfeld’s portrayal of Spider-Gwen adds layers of emotional depth to the character, particularly in her relationship with Miles Morales and her struggles with her father, Captain Stacy.

In these films, Gwen’s arc is about finding her place in a world that often isolates her because of her dual identity as Spider-Woman. Her relationship with her father is a powerful exploration of love, trust, and the burden of responsibility. The films’ stunning visual representation of her world—rendered in watercolors and abstract designs—emphasizes her emotional journey, creating a visceral connection between her inner turmoil and her external reality.

Spider-Gwen’s prominence in these films cements her as more than just a secondary character in Spider-Man’s story. She’s a leading figure in her own right, driving the narrative and representing themes of resilience and self-discovery.

4. Gwen Stacy’s Evolution as a Feminist Symbol

I also think that Gwen Stacy’s journey from damsel in distress to hero is emblematic of broader cultural shifts in how women are portrayed in media, you know? Like, in her original incarnation, Gwen was intelligent and kind, but she was ultimately defined by her relationships with men—first her father, Captain Stacy, and then Peter Parker. Her death, while narratively impactful, reduced her to a catalyst for Peter’s growth.

The creation of Spider-Gwen reclaims Gwen’s agency, allowing her to define her own story. This reinvention reflects the growing demand for complex, fully realized female characters in superhero narratives. Spider-Gwen’s popularity demonstrates that audiences are hungry for stories where women are active participants in the action, rather than passive victims of it.

Her punk-rock persona and role as the drummer for The Mary Janes further position Gwen as a symbol of individuality and rebellion. She represents a break from traditional norms, embodying a modern feminist ethos that values self-expression and independence.

5. The Enduring Popularity of Gwen Stacy in Pop Culture

Gwen Stacy’s impact extends beyond comics into the broader realm of pop culture. Her appearances in live-action films, animated series, and video games have introduced her to new audiences, solidifying her status as a household name.

Merchandising and Iconography

Spider-Gwen has become a merchandising juggernaut, with her image adorning everything from action figures to clothing lines. Her costume, in particular, has achieved iconic status, representing the marriage of sleek design and storytelling.

A Legacy of Adaptation

The fact that Gwen Stacy continues to be reinvented across media speaks to her adaptability. Each new version of Gwen—whether it’s the tragic Earth-616 Gwen, the heroic Spider-Gwen, or the multiversal leader in the Spider-Verse films—adds new dimensions to her character. This adaptability ensures that Gwen remains relevant in a constantly evolving cultural landscape.

6. Gwen Stacy as a Reflection of Spider-Man’s Core Themes

At her core, Gwen Stacy represents some of the most essential themes in Spider-Man’s mythology: responsibility, loss, and resilience. Whether as Peter Parker’s first great love or as a hero in her own right, Gwen’s story reinforces the idea that tragedy and triumph are intertwined in the superhero experience.

For Peter Parker, Gwen’s death serves as a constant reminder of the stakes of his double life. For readers, Gwen’s rebirth as Spider-Gwen demonstrates that characters can evolve beyond their origins, taking on new meanings and roles for future generations.

Gwen Stacy’s Cultural Impact

My verdict is that Gwen Stacy’s legacy is one of reinvention and resilience. From her origins as a tragic love interest to her rebirth as a multiverse hero, Gwen has become a symbol of the evolving nature of storytelling in comics and media. She challenges traditional narratives, inspires new generations, and continues to be a defining figure in the Spider-Man universe. Whether you know her as Peter’s first love or as Spider-Gwen, Gwen Stacy’s story is one of the most enduring and impactful in superhero history.

[i-like-art-and-spiderman]

Spiderman Rami au where everyone is taken to the present and Harry Osborn has been revived

HEAR ME OUT!

Norman, Peter and Otto return to a universe were everything is seemingly normal. They are about to head to Peters apartment when Peter gets frantic calls from MJ telling him to go to the hospital. They all walk in to find Harry alive but in critical condition. Norman is horrified while Otto is confused. MJ is also terrified and tells them to get tf out while Peter tries to explain everything. Norman and Otto are outside of the hospital room hearing the fight.

MJ: I CAN'T BELIVE YOU BROUGHT THOSE TWO HERE!

Peter: I know that this is a lot but, they've changed. They have been cured. There is no more Goblin and Dr. Octavious is in control of his tentacle things.

MJ: You do realize that they both have kidnapped and threatened my life right!?

MJ: OH MY GOD AND OUT OF ALL PEOPLE, NORMAN!

Peter: MJ.

MJ: HE'S THE REASON HARRY DIED PETER! OR DID YOU FORGET!!!

Peter: MJ, I doubt that he expected Harry to find the Goblin tech. If he did, he wouldn't have told me to keep it from Harry.

MJ: YOU THINK I GIVE A FUCK, BOTH OF THEM NEED TO GO NOW! GOD FORBID THAT HARRY WAKES UP AND HAS A HEART ATTACK AT SEEING IS DEAD DAD ALIVE AGAIN!

Norman: Peter what does she by mean my son died.

Both Norman and Otto are caught up with present day events. Norman is distraught that his son got killed partially due to his antics while Otto is genuinely disgusted by Peter's actions in Spiderman three.

MJ explains what happened while Peter was away. In the middle of the night, she was awoken by a knock on the door opening it to see Harry confused as fuck and asking what is going on before he passes out from blood loss. MJ without thinking takes Harry to a hospital where he is in critical condition and somehow alive.

A few months later and Norman is able to get his mansion back and Otto stays in the guest bedroom (for now).

By this point Harry has been informed of the whole situation as MJ hit Peter with the, " You tell him before I do"

Long story short Harry only agrees to go back to the Mansion if Peter moves in. He only allows Peter, Aunt May, MJ, and sometimes Otto to be around him and Harry and Peter start to fall for each other even more than before budding a not-so-secret romance that everyone and their alternate universe counterpart knows except for Norman.

Harry does not know how to feel about his dad and for now want's nothing to do with him.

Norman is confused but with Otto's help is respecting Hare's decision.

to be continued

[panfluidme]

A Picnic and A Movie

Fandom: MSM Ship: Parksborn TWs: None

Harry paced his room, debating on calling Peter. He only wanted to hear Peter's voice but didn't want to admit that to the spider. He couldn't think of anything they could discuss nor knew if Peter was free.

Harry sat on his bed, sighing.

There was nothing for him to do. Everyone he knew was busy. His father was out of town, and he would be too busy even if he was in town.

Harry didn't have a lot of friends. He and Peter had been friends since elementary school. They've been dating since late middle school, not that anyone knew.

Harry grabbed his phone, deciding to scroll through his photos. Most of them were of Peter and him or just of Peter. Peter didn't know that the picture was being taken in the ones of just Peter, so he wasn't looking into the camera. Those were his favorites.

Harry sighed softly, staring at Peter. The boy was working on his science homework, the sun in the background giving him a glowing outline. It was before the spider bite, so he wore his glasses. Harry did miss those glasses.

He was disappointed when Peter stopped wearing them, believing Peter gave in and wore the contacts his aunt bought him. The glasses were adorable on Peter.

Harry smiled. This was his favorite picture of Peter. He loved how excited Pete got with science, even his homework.

"I miss you," Harry mumbled. He hasn't seen Peter in almost a week.

As if summoning him, Peter called Harry. Harry's heart skipped a beat as he answered.

"Hey."

"Harry!"

"Everything okay, bud?"

"Yeah. I was wondering if you wanted to go out. I got some extra money, so I can pay."

"No, no. I'll pay. Where at?"

"Dunno."

"Hm. We could get sandwiches, and stuff, then do a picnic."

"That sounds fun!"

"I'll bring the food. Meet you under our tree in forty?"

"Yep! See you."

Peter hung up. Harry stood up, grabbing a pair of shoes. He put them on in the elevator, humming happily. He was so excited to see Peter.

He went to the store, grabbing two of Peter's favorite sandwiches and one of his favorites. Peter ate a lot now, and Harry could provide his needed food.

Harry arrived before Peter did, as per usual. He leaned against the tree, tracing his finger on the heart carved into the tree. Inside was "PP + HO."

They carved it out last year. It had been Peter's idea.

"Hey, Osborn," Gwen's voice startled Harry out of his thoughts.

"Stacy."

"I'm guessing you're waiting for Peter?"

Harry nodded. "I am."

Gwen smiled. "You two are close, yeah?"

"We are. Do you have anywhere to be?"

"Nope. Miles and Anya are meeting me here. Would you and Pete like to come?"

Harry shrugged. "Maybe. He and I were going to have a picnic."

"Oh, fun."

"Yep."

"Gwen, Harry," Anya greeted as she arrived.

"Hey, Anya. It's good to see you again."

"It's good to see you, Harry. Is Peter on his way?"

Harry nodded, crossing his arms. "He's late."

"Of course he is."

Harry shrugged. "He's never on time. He has never been."

Anya rolled her eyes. "Don't get me wrong, I like the guy, but he needs to learn to manage time better."

"He's getting better, trust me."

"I do. What are you two going to be doing?"

"Having a picnic. After that, we might hang out at his place."

"Huh. We're going to the movies; you're welcome to come with us."

"Maybe." Harry looked around, searching for Peter. He sighed and pulled out his phone, planning on texting Peter.

"I see him. He's with Miles."

Harry glanced up, his eyes landing on Peter. Peter held a couple of bags, laughing at something Miles had said. Harry held up his phone, opening his camera. Zooming in, Harry took a picture of Peter and grinned stupidly to himself.

Harry bit his lip and sent it to Peter with the caption 'cutie.'

Peter's phone buzzed, catching his attention. He pulled out the phone, finding a text from Harry. He tapped it, his cheeks reddening.

"Pete?"

"Yeah?"

"You good? You're red."

Peter nodded as he put his phone away. "I'm fine."

"If you say so."

"I see Anya and Gwen with Harry."

"Think Harry would like to see a movie?"

"He'll want to eat first. He's so grumpy when he's hungry."

"He is?"

Peter nodded, smiling at the thought. Harry was adorable when he was grumpy. "Yes, he is."

"That's funny."

"Mhm."

The two reached the other three. They greeted each other.

"I brought a lot of food, so you three are welcome to join us," Peter said as he set the bags of food down.

"Are you sure?"

Peter looked at Harry, who nodded, before nodding. "Yep!"

"Did you bring a blanket? It completely slipped my mind when I left."

Peter nodded. "I did bring one, but it isn't big. Aunt May didn't want me to ruin her nice blankets."

"That sounds like May."

"I like May," Miles added.

"Aunt May's awesome."

"I don't think I've met her."

"That's right. You haven't." Peter hummed. "You'll have to at some point, Gwen. She'll like you."

"You think?"

Peter nodded. "You're cool and fun."

Harry nodded, typing on his phone. He was a little upset that he didn't get any one on one time with Peter, but he was happy that he got this time.

"Who are you texting?"

"What?"

"Who are you texting?" Miles repeated. "Your girlfriend?"

"I don't have a girlfriend."

"Really?"

Harry nodded. "I don't have a girl."

"You'll find one eventually."

"I don't want a girlfriend."

"Why not?"

Harry shrugged as he unwrapped his sandwich. "I'm happy with the relationship I have now."

Miles stared at him. "But you don't have a girlfriend?"

"I do not. I do have a boyfriend."

"That's a thing?"

Harry nodded. "Yep."

"Cool."

==Time Skippy Skip==

The group went to the movies, getting five tickets to watch the newest Disney movie. Peter sat next to Harry and Anya. Gwen was next to Anya, and Miles was next to Harry.

Peter yawned, leaning against Harry's shoulder. He was exhausted from the day. He spent most of it as Spider-Man as he didn't have school. His body ached from the big baddie he fought, but he would never admit that. Especially not to Harry.

Peter knew that Harry didn't like that he was Spider-Man. At first, Peter thought this was because Harry hadn't been a fan of Spidey's, but he learned that Harry was worried that Peter would get hurt. It was nice to know that Harry cared so much about him.

He hummed, struggling to keep his eyes open as the movie started.

Harry glanced over at him, chuckling quietly. He brushed some hair from Peter's face.

==Time Skippy Skip==

The credits rolled across the screen. The lights faded on, causing the sleeping Peter to groan.

Peter had fallen asleep halfway through the movie. When Harry realized this, he didn't move, so he didn't wake his love. Peter deserved a good nap.

"I liked that," Anya commented. "What now?"

"Pete's house?"

"I don't see a problem with that. Pete, what do you say?" Gwen looked at Peter. "Pete, bud."

Peter snuggled closer to Harry, humming. Harry's cheeks reddened at the closeness, and he put his cheek against the top of Peter's head.

"Is he asleep?"

Harry nodded. "He is. He doesn't sleep much."

Gwen sighed and shook Peter. "Pete, wake up."

"Why?"

"So we can keep hanging out."

"Oh." Peter rubbed his eyes and sat upright. "Where to?"

"We were thinking your place?"

"Sure."

[aishangotome]

[Osborn] Valentines Day Card - Within Reach (触手可及 | 2022·日日夜夜）

♡———♡

It was early February, and the weather was starting to warm up.

The afternoon sunlight was pleasant, and the lingering sweetness of candy in the air lifted my spirits.

In the kitchen, I carefully placed the fruit candies I had made last night into a glass jar, the light refracting through the translucent cellophane, creating a kaleidoscope of colors.

A bit unsure, I unwrapped one and popped it into my mouth. The sweet and sour flavor exploded on my taste buds.

You: I wonder if Osborn will like them...

I had spent a whole week agonizing over what to give him.

Buying something felt a bit impersonal, and making a piece of jewelry myself lacked creativity.

After much deliberation, I settled on making a jar of fruit candies.

I added a few decorations to the jar and held it up, satisfied.

Just then, my phone rang. It was Osborn.

Osborn and I had planned to go out today, but it was still early, long before the time he had promised to pick me up.

Is he here already? I wondered, picking up the phone.

You: Hello, Osborn?

Osborn: It's me.

Osborn: Something came up here... I'm going to be a little late picking you up.

You: Are you at home? Is there anything I can help with?

Osborn: It's nothing major, I'll be able to take care of it soon.

After hanging up, I stared at the jar of candies, strange thoughts swirling in my mind.

You: What could possibly have happened?

Unable to sit still with all these questions, I decided to go investigate myself.

-

I quickly hailed a taxi and arrived at Osborn's place.

After pressing the doorbell, I waited for a while, but the door remained closed.

The message I had sent Osborn before leaving also remained unanswered.

You: He said it was a "minor issue," but it seems more serious than that...

I dialed his number, wondering if I should just barge in and check on him if he didn't answer.

Just as this thought crossed my mind, the call connected.

Osborn: Hello? I'm still a bit busy here.

Osborn's voice sounded distant, and the clinking of metal echoed faintly through the phone.

You: Actually... I'm at your door. I rang the doorbell earlier, didn't you hear it?

Osborn: You're already here?

Then, it sounded like he picked up the phone, his voice becoming clearer.

Osborn: Okay, come around to the left side, I'm in the garage.

Just as he finished speaking, I heard a rattling sound, like a rolling shutter door being lifted.

Following Osborn's instructions, I walked around to the left side of the building and found the garage.

A bold, orange jeep was parked by the entrance, its hood propped open, as if it were having engine trouble.

Osborn walked towards me from beside the car. He was wearing a white T-shirt that clung to his muscles, outlining his physique.

Osborn: It's cold out here. Come inside.

You: Okay.

I followed Osborn into the garage, and a wave of warmth washed over me.

A row of incandescent lights illuminated the grey walls, which were decorated with various items, including helmets and racing suits.

You: So the "minor issue" was your car breaking down.

Osborn: Yeah, I just started working on it.

Osborn: Who knew a certain silly goose missed me so much that she couldn't wait and came over herself?

My cheeks flushed at being called out. I quickly changed the subject.

You: What's wrong with your car?

Osborn: It's those guys, Puning and the others...

Osborn suddenly stopped mid-sentence, and I looked at him questioningly.

Osborn: Cough, they borrowed my car to go out, and I didn't think much of it when they brought it back this morning.

Osborn: But just now, when I was about to head out, I discovered a minor issue.

You: Pfft... I can't believe even the great Osborn can be stumped by a car.

Osborn: You little rascal, getting bolder, even daring to laugh at me.

You: No need to go through all this trouble, we can just take a different car.

Osborn's expression faltered for a moment. He rubbed his nose and coughed.

Osborn: Well, it's a new car I just bought, specifically for taking you out today.

Osborn: Besides, it's not a big problem. I'll have it fixed in a bit.

Since he put it that way, I agreed, but a lingering feeling of suspicion remained.

You: Then I'll help!

Osborn: Alright, but change your clothes first, don't get your dress dirty.

You: Okay.

I changed into one of Osborn's work suits and, for convenience, tied my hair up in a ponytail.

When I returned, Osborn was expertly using a wrench to loosen a bolt.

The muscles in his arms flexed as he worked, his knuckles prominent on the hand gripping the wrench, his fingertips stained with black grease.

You: Is there anything I can do to help?

Osborn: Hand me the needle-nose pliers by your feet.

I quickly found them in the toolbox and passed them over. Osborn took the tool and skillfully continued disassembling the parts, troubleshooting the issue.

Osborn: Found it. The starter battery is dead.

You: How do we fix that?

Osborn: Just swap it out for a charged one. Twenty minutes, tops.

Just then, his phone, which was lying nearby, buzzed, and a message notification popped up on the screen.

You: Your phone's ringing.

Osborn: Must be Puning and the others. Hand it to me, will you?

Just as I picked up the phone, it buzzed again, several more messages popping up in quick succession.

You: "Sister-in-law?" "Trunk?"

I read the words that flashed across the screen out loud.

Osborn, who had been nonchalant just moments ago, suddenly seemed to snap out of a daze, snatching the phone from my hand.

Osborn: Puning's just messing around, don't mind him.

That persistent suspicion, along with Osborn's unusual behavior... it suddenly hit me.

You: Don't tell me... you prepared a surprise in the car?

A blush crept onto Osborn's face, confirming my suspicions.

Seeing his flustered expression, a rare sight, my heart felt like it was filled with marshmallows, even though I still didn't know what the "surprise" was. It was a sweet, fulfilling feeling.

Osborn: You little rascal, you're not usually this clever when it comes to directions.

You: So when are you going to show me?

Osborn: When do you want to see it?

You: Well, since it's a surprise you specially prepared for me, of course...

You: Now!

Osborn didn't answer. Instead, he came up behind me and covered my eyes with something.

The material wasn't soft, it felt like some kind of leather strap.

You: Why are you blindfolding me?

Osborn: Well, it's a surprise. It has to be mysterious.

Osborn led me a few steps forward, then I heard a click, as if something had been opened.

Then, a sweet fragrance filled my nostrils.

Osborn: Happy Valentine's Day.

The blindfold was removed, and I opened my eyes to a romantic, dreamy scene.

There was the orange jeep, its trunk open, filled with pink flowers. In the center was a heart made of light pink roses.

A string of pink and white banners hung from the roof of the car, with my name written on them.

Even though I had already guessed, the sight still surprised me.

You: This is so cheesy...

Despite my teasing words, my eyes welled up, and a lump formed in my throat.

Osborn: Silly, why are you crying?

Osborn gently wiped away the tears from the corners of my eyes, and I took his hand in mine.

You: It's cheesy, but I love it.

I stood on tiptoe and lightly kissed his cheek.

You: This is... part one of your thank-you gift.

Osborn smiled with satisfaction, but it seemed he wanted more.

Osborn: Does that mean there are other gifts?

Osborn: How about... we just stay home today?

You: Don't even think about it!

Osborn: Okay, okay. So, where does my Xiao Xiao Wu want to go?

Where should we go next?

Option 1: Go for an aimless joyride. Option 2: Let's fix the car first, then we'll see. Option 3 (Audio): Visit the Garage. Option 4: Ask Osborn. Option 5: None of the above options.

-

Option 1: Go for an aimless joyride.

You: You said before that you would take me away from this dizzying world.

You: Does that still count?

Osborn: Of course. How about today?

Osborn: Forget about destinations, forget about time, just keep going until we reach the end of the world.

The phrase "the end of the world" made my heart skip a beat, a thrill of anticipation running through me.

You: What will we find there?

Osborn: We'll find out when we get there.

Osborn: But although I don't know what's there, I do know what isn't.

You: ?

Osborn: At the end of the world, there are no annoying tasks or work, and no noisy crowds.

Osborn: We can leave all our worldly troubles behind and just enjoy each other's company.

You: That sounds like...

Osborn: Like what? Elopement?

Osborn winked at me mischievously, a smirk playing on his lips.

Osborn: A bad boy and a rich girl running away together, hmm, I like it.

You: You... stop saying such things. Let's go!

I grabbed his arm, eager to get in the car.

Osborn: What's the rush? The car's not fixed yet.

Osborn: And... you're forgetting something.

You: ?

I turned to look at him, and his eyes drifted downwards, settling on our dirty clothes.

Osborn: Are you sure we don't look like we're running away from a disaster?

You: .......

Osborn: Okay, go change back into your clothes. I'll clean up a bit too.

You: Okay.

-

After changing, I went to the living room and waited, but Osborn still didn't come out.

His bedroom door was slightly ajar, offering a glimpse of the room. I reached out and knocked.

You: Osborn, aren't you...?

Before I could finish my sentence, the door suddenly swung open. I instinctively looked up and found myself staring at a broad, bare chest.

Osborn: I just took a quick shower.

Osborn was casually putting on a white shirt, his damp hair making him look even more effortlessly handsome.

Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the curtains, casting a warm glow on his exposed skin.

Ravine-like muscle lines extended from his abdomen, disappearing beneath the black fabric of his sweatpants.

The sight was so overwhelming that I stumbled backwards, my face flushing as I quickly averted my gaze.

You: Why aren't you wearing any clothes...?

Osborn leisurely buttoned his shirt, his eyes lingering on my reddening cheeks and ears.

A playful smile danced in his eyes, but his tone was unapologetically confident.

Osborn: What are you talking about? I'm clearly dressed.

You: ...You haven't even buttoned your shirt properly.

Osborn: There, all done.

I looked back and saw that he had only fastened the top few buttons, the rest of his shirt still wide open.

You: Y-you're tricking me!

Osborn: Well, you're easy to trick.

-

A while later, Osborn switched to a different car and drove me along the highway, no destination in mind.

The golden light of dusk gently enveloped the straight road, as if we were driving through a tunnel of sunshine.

The scenery gradually shifted from tall buildings to flat fields, the sky adorned with layers of cirrocumulus clouds resembling fish scales.

I leaned against the window, watching the vast expanse of brilliant sunset swiftly retreat behind us.

You: It's so beautiful, like we're driving straight into the clouds.

Osborn: It's been a while since I've felt this carefree.

You: Hmm? Have you done this before?

Osborn: Occasionally. But this is the first time since we reunited.

Osborn sat bathed in the dim, golden light of dusk, the last rays of the setting sun filtering through the windshield and painting him in a warm glow. He was like a still frame in a movie, the scenery outside the car window a blur of motion.

Gradually, the number of other vehicles dwindled, and then there were none at all. We were like a balloon floating through the sky, completely disconnected from the world.

After an unknown amount of time, the darkness crept in from behind, swallowing the world whole.

You: I can't see anything anymore. I don't even know where we are.

Osborn: That's easy. You're with me.

The night grew deeper, and I could no longer make out his expression, but his familiar voice and tone reassured me.

Outside the car window was still wilderness, not a single light in sight. It was all just a dark, chaotic expanse, even the horizon had disappeared.

You: Is this the end of the world...?

Osborn: Now do you know what's at the end of the world?

You: Yes, it's you.

Osborn: It's a shame our "elopement" has to end here.

You: Huh?

Osborn pointed at the fuel gauge. The needle was in the red zone. We were almost out of gas.

Osborn: This might ruin the mood a bit, but we need to find a place to refuel and get some food.

You: Okay...

The car gradually slowed down as Osborn steered it off the highway. Looking at the inky blackness in the rearview mirror, I felt a pang of regret.

Osborn: What's wrong? Don't tell me the little foodie is upset now that we're stopping for food?

Osborn: If you want, we can go on an aimless adventure to the ends of the earth anytime.

Osborn: This was just a trial run.

-

The car soon rolled into a gas station.

Osborn got out to refuel, and I followed, curiously looking around.

A sign caught my eye. Flashing neon lights spelled out the words "Drive-in Theater."

Osborn: Filled up the tank, let's go.

You: Let's go there after dinner!

I pointed towards the theater, and Osborn gently nudged my arm, guiding my hand to point at another sign next to it—"Motel."

Osborn: Good idea. After the movie, we can rest here.

You: You...

I was about to glare at him, but Osborn was already walking towards the car with a smile.

Osborn: Come on, slowpoke, let's go eat.

-

After a delicious dinner at a nearby restaurant, we arrived at the drive-in theater.

We bought tickets and popcorn, and as the car slowly pulled into a parking space, the movie started.

It was a film about travel and homesickness.

Osborn tuned the car radio to the correct channel, then adjusted his seat to a comfortable angle.

He reached into the backseat and pulled out a small black duffel bag. He opened it, and inside was an army blanket.

You: Why did you bring this?

Osborn: It came with the car. The temperature drops quickly at night, so it'll be useful.

He spread the blanket over my lap, then stretched out his long legs and leaned back comfortably in his seat.

As the movie played, I heard a rustling sound from Osborn's side. I turned to look at him curiously.

He seemed to be holding a piece of popcorn. Noticing that I was watching him, he casually popped it into my mouth.

You: Mmm...

The sweet and sour flavor of lemon filled my mouth. I opened my eyes wide in surprise and noticed the glass jar of candy on the dashboard. It was the gift I had prepared for him!

Before we left, I had secretly put the jar in the backseat, hoping to surprise him, but he had found it.

You: How did you find it...?

Osborn: If you want to hide something in my car, you'll have to be more discreet.

He popped a candy into his own mouth and nodded in satisfaction.

Osborn: Tastes good.

After that brief interlude, we returned our attention to the movie.

The plot was getting interesting, and the main character's lines echoed through the quiet open space.

Movie Line: It must be that travel comes first, and then doubts and homesickness, right?

You: That makes sense...

Osborn: Does it?

I turned to see Osborn staring intently at the screen, his eyes reflecting the flickering light.

You: Don't you think so?

He nodded, his gaze lowered in thought for a moment before he finally turned to look at me.

Osborn: I think it's precisely because of homesickness and attachments that a journey becomes a journey.

Osborn: Otherwise, it's just wandering.

I noticed a hint of disapproval in his tone, and I was a bit confused.

You: But don't you think it's similar to what we're doing today?

Osborn: Not with you by my side.

Because of me? His profile glowed softly in the light from the screen. I studied him, an idea dawning on me.

You: I've noticed you've changed.

Osborn: Oh?

You: You're not that aloof guy who could spend months at sea without talking to anyone anymore.

He looked at me with surprise, then smiled knowingly.

Osborn: You haven't noticed? Freedom and wandering are no longer the sole purpose of my life.

Osborn: Perhaps life is like our journey today, it requires constant movement.

Osborn: A resting point after a thrilling adventure is especially comforting. But after staying in our comfort zone for too long, we crave exploration again.

I stared at him, a strange mix of melancholy and envy in my heart.

He was like an intangible flame, elusive, impossible to truly possess.

Osborn: Y/N?

Osborn seemed to notice something and called my name. I quickly looked up, a confused expression on my face.

Osborn: What are you thinking about? Your brow is furrowed.

He reached out and gently smoothed the wrinkles on my forehead.

His warm touch dispelled my hesitation, and I looked at him, unable to hold back the question any longer.

You: Then can I stay by your side forever...?

He seemed surprised by my question, his green eyes widening slightly. He reached out and gently pinched my nose, making me blush and feel flustered.

Osborn: Are you mistaken about something?

Osborn: It's not about "staying by my side." It's about "being by my side."

Osborn: Like I said, if you want, we can go on an aimless adventure to the ends of the earth anytime.

Osborn: And if you ever get tired...

He sat up slightly and pulled something out of the glove compartment.

Before I could ask what it was, he took my hand and placed a key in my palm.

You: What's this?

Osborn: A key to my house.

You: Huh?

He closed his hand over mine, his warm palm enveloping my fingers, making me hold onto the key.

Osborn: If you ever get tired, you can wait for me at home.

Osborn: No matter how many obstacles I have to overcome, no matter how long it takes, I'll always come back to you.

Osborn: Where you are, that's my home, my final destination.

In the darkness, his warm breath mingled with mine, a silent kiss.

I looked into his eyes, so close now. They were like a deep ocean, making me forget how to breathe.

The key in my hand, warmed by our touch, felt incredibly comforting in the cool night air.

I couldn't help but tighten my grip on it.

You: Then it's a promise...

Osborn: It's a promise. I'll never go back on my word.

His voice was firm, his words etching themselves into my heart.

Osborn: The movie's over. Let's go home.

We drove through the night, the city lights in the distance like twinkling stars in the Milky Way.

In this endlessly sprawling city, everyone was searching for their place, their coordinates. And his coordinates were right here beside me.

-

Option 2: Let's fix the car first, then we'll see.

You: Let's fix the car first. I want to go for a drive in this one today, with my flowers.

Osborn looked at me with amusement and nodded.

Osborn: Alright, let's get to work then.

Osborn skillfully worked on the car, while I could only stand there with a wrench in hand, spacing out.

Osborn: What are you thinking about? You seem so preoccupied.

You: I don't think there's anything I can do to help...

Osborn: Who said that? This requires my Xiao Xiao Wu's assistance.

His words snapped me back to attention.

You: What do you need me to do?

Osborn: I need a screwdriver. Go to the tool room and get the red box for me.

You: Okay~

There were several rooms in the garage. Following Osborn's directions, I went left, then right, and finally arrived at a large slate door.

The floor-to-ceiling slate door was dark grey with a naturally uneven surface, looking imposing and cool. Beside it was a control panel with a screen.

You: This tool room is quite high-tech.

I approached the control panel, and before I could even get a good look, a "beep" indicated that verification was complete.

The slate door automatically slid open, and the lights inside turned on one by one. Dozens of cars in various colors and models were displayed in the black room.

You: !!

The sleek lines of the cars, illuminated by spotlights, were incredibly beautiful, giving off a futuristic vibe. There was even a black and red KTM go-kart in the corner.

I quickly scanned the cars, barely able to recall the names of the brands from memory.

You: This is incredible...

I couldn't help but walk towards a gulfstream blue sports car. Sometimes, design principles were universal, and the design of a top-tier sports car held a captivating allure.

Osborn: Mesmerized, huh?

Just as I was admiring the car, footsteps approached from outside.

I turned and saw Osborn standing behind me.

You: This room... doesn't seem to have any tools?

Osborn: The tool room is on the other side.

You: Huh? But you told me to...

Osborn walked over and raised an eyebrow playfully.

Osborn: I just thought you were a bit bored, so I brought you here to change your mood.

Osborn: This is my other secret base. I don't usually let anyone in here.

You: Your other secret base?

Osborn nodded and walked over to the gulfstream blue sports car.

Osborn: Interested in this one? It's a custom-made "Tribute."

Osborn: It has a V8 supercharged engine, with a maximum of 720 horsepower.

Osborn: It can go from 0 to 100 km/h in 2.9 seconds, so it's quite powerful.

His voice washed over me as the overhead lights illuminated the blue car and his eyes, making them sparkle like a starry sky.

Osborn's gaze was filled with passion, not for racing or speed this time, but for something he loved, a pure appreciation.

Then, that same gaze fell on me, and my heart skipped a beat.

Perhaps because I was frozen in place, he touched his neck and looked at me questioningly.

Osborn: Am I boring you with all this?

I quickly shook my head.

You: No, I love it when you share these things with me.

You: I was just thinking, there are so many cars here, but I don't think I've ever seen you drive any of them?

Osborn: They're more like collector's items. I occasionally take them out for a spin at the club.

Osborn: There are a lot of speed bumps in the city, and the traffic is terrible. There's not much difference between driving any car in those conditions. It would be a shame to drive these cars in the city.

You: Pfft, so even your dreams are no match for reality.

My eyes fell on a red-gold convertible with a flamboyant spoiler. There was an inscription on the door, and I leaned closer to see Osborn's name engraved on it.

You: Is this car custom-made for you too?

Osborn: You could say that.

Osborn: It's a special championship edition, the only one in the world.

You: Amazing...

Feeling a surge of affection for the car, I circled it a few times. Its design was bold and unique, the spoiler like a sharp blade, a perfect reflection of Osborn on the racetrack.

Osborn: You like it? We can take it out for a spin when the weather's better.

Osborn led me further into the garage, a hint of nostalgia in his expression.

Osborn: Actually, these cars span quite a long period of my life.

Osborn: This one, for example, was my first car. And this one was a reward for winning my first race.

Osborn: And this one, I drove it all over Europe...

Osborn: I don't just see them as cars, they also represent different stages of my journey.

He showed me the cars one by one, until we reached the last one, tucked away in a corner.

Compared to the other sports cars, this SUV seemed ordinary. Although it had clearly been well-maintained, there were still some signs of wear and tear.

Osborn: This one... there's nothing special about it, just an ordinary car.

He said it casually, then opened the door and gestured for me to get in. I climbed inside and saw that the interior was also quite ordinary, but unlike the other cars, it had a lived-in feel.

You: Do you still drive this one?

I noticed a lemon candy wrapper tucked in a corner.

Osborn: Not very often. But sometimes, I come here and sit in it.

You: Why?

Osborn gripped the steering wheel, seemingly lost in thought for a moment, then chuckled softly.

Osborn: This might sound a bit strange.

Osborn: One time, I was on a mission in the mountains, and I got caught in a torrential downpour.

Osborn: I was stranded. No signal, the situation was pretty dangerous. I had no choice but to try and drive out of there with this car, hoping for a chance of survival.

Osborn: There were landslides and the river was overflowing, and falling rocks...

Osborn: I pushed this car to its absolute limit.

Osborn: I thought it would give up on me halfway, but it managed to get me out of there.

Osborn: And not long after I left, there was a massive landslide in that area.

Osborn: You could say that this car... it gave me the strength to keep going.

Even though it had happened long ago, just hearing him describe it made my heart race.

You: Were you injured?

Osborn: No, but this car was almost totaled.

Osborn: Even the windshield was completely shattered. It took me a while to repair it after I got back.

Osborn: In a way, you could say it saved my life.

You: Then it must have the best story out of all the cars in this garage!

Osborn: Yeah. I've always felt like this car brings good luck, so I wanted you to experience it too.

He looked at me, a hint of tenderness in his eyes.

Osborn: Okay, let's go fix the other car now.

I nodded, my mind occupied with the cars I had just seen and the stories Osborn had shared. I no longer felt bored.

Osborn: Alright, all done!

Osborn quickly finished repairing the car.

I was about to leave when I noticed a paper bag on the table. I had almost forgotten to give him the candy.

You: Oh, right! Here, I made you some fruit candies. Want to try one?

Osborn's gaze fell on the glass jar, a knowing look in his eyes.

Osborn: So this is the other gift?

Hearing him mention it, I felt a bit shy, so I pulled out a lemon candy, hoping to use its sweetness to distract him.

But before I could even unwrap it, he snatched it away with lightning speed.

You: Hey!

Osborn: This is my gift. I should be the first to try it.

You: Childish!

I turned to grab another one, but Osborn, taking it a step further, placed the jar on the roof of the car.

You: You!

Unwilling to give up, I looked at the candy in his hand and reached out to grab it.

Osborn: Whoa, that look in your eyes... You don't just want the candy, you want to eat me too, don't you?

Osborn grinned mischievously and deliberately raised the lemon candy higher. I reached for it, but he blocked me with his other hand.

You: Hmph, I can just make more.

I gave up on trying to grab it and glared at him.

Osborn's smile widened, and he propped himself up on the hood of the car.

Osborn: You must be tired from all that grabbing. Come take a break.

He patted the empty space beside him and reached out to pull me up.

I sat beside him on the hood, the "candy war" temporarily suspended.

Osborn unwrapped the candy and popped it into his mouth.

You: How is it?

I watched him nervously, and Osborn, with a sidelong glance at me, gave his assessment.

Osborn: It's alright, a bit sour. I'd give it an 8 out of 10.

You: Sour? How could it be...?

I turned to grab the jar from the car roof, but he had placed it right in the middle. Even with my arm fully extended, I could barely reach it.

You: The jar's too far away, I can't reach it...

You: Can you get it for me?

Osborn: I have a better idea.

You: What?

Osborn suddenly wrapped his arms around my waist and lifted me up. The next thing I knew, I was sitting on his lap.

You: !

Osborn: See? Now you can reach it.

He held me securely as he straightened up, and I easily grabbed the jar.

You: ...You can put me down now.

Osborn: Ouch, this candy is so sour. You should try one.

His attempt to change the subject was a bit clumsy, but I still picked out a lemon candy from the jar and put it in my mouth.

You: It's sweet, isn't it?

Osborn didn't say anything, just chewed on the candy and tilted his chin, indicating that I should try another one.

You: Get it yourself.

Osborn: Are you sure? I might just let go...

You: Yes, I'm sure.

Osborn let go, and I slid down the windshield. Losing my balance, I instinctively wrapped my arms around his neck to prevent myself from falling.

You: You...

Osborn: I did warn you.

Seeing his shameless expression, I was momentarily speechless, and could only obediently pick out a lemon candy and offer it to him.

He extended his tongue and snatched the candy, then mischievously licked my fingertip.

Osborn: Mmm, this one is sweet.

And so, we continued feeding each other candy, the jar gradually emptying.

I found the last lemon candy and, just as I was about to pop it into my mouth, I met Osborn's expectant gaze.

With a sigh, I offered him a strawberry flavored one, but he refused.

Osborn: I only want lemon.

Caught between a rock and a hard place, with the candy still in my mouth, I hesitated.

Actually, there was an easier solution.

He lifted his head and suddenly leaned in, his nose almost brushing my cheek. I instinctively leaned back, and seeing his playful smirk, I suddenly understood what he meant.

I took a deep breath and covered his eyes with my hand.

Then, I slowly lowered my head and leaned towards his slightly parted lips, our noses touching, our breaths mingling.

The troublesome lemon candy was gradually transferred from my mouth to his.

Time seemed to slow down, and I could clearly feel the candy moving from my tongue to his.

And just as the candy was about to disappear completely, my lips unexpectedly brushed against his, soft and warm, like two clouds colliding in the sky.

Osborn: Mmm...

A muffled groan escaped his lips, and his arms tightened around me.

In the next second, he took charge, his lips and tongue claiming the candy from mine.

His familiar scent enveloped me, greedily stealing my breath as his tongue explored every corner of my mouth, forcefully capturing the lingering sweetness of the candy.

It was a passionate kiss, yet there was also a playful exploration, testing my boundaries.

Osborn: ......

His suppressed gasps were warm and moist, and my thoughts, along with my heart, felt like they were being held captive, swept away by the current.

As if under a spell, my fingers traced the lines of his prominent Adam's apple, his sharp collarbone, then slipped beneath his shirt, exploring the contours of his shoulders and neck.

The muscles beneath my touch tensed with my every move, his breathing quickening.

As if in a playful challenge, his hand slid down my back, pulling me closer into a tight embrace.

The small lemon candy had long since dissolved amidst the intertwined movements of our lips and tongues, its sweet and sour flavor transforming into an intoxicating liquor.

Osborn opened his eyes, his gaze filled with a burning intensity.

Osborn: You, and the lemon candy, you both belong only to me.

His voice was a whisper against my ear, but my oxygen-deprived mind could barely process it.

The sudden courage I had mustered had vanished, and I could only weakly cling to his shoulders, burying my face in his neck, my breathing rapid.

Osborn: But one candy isn't enough.

You: Wh- ...Mm...

Before I could speak, a strawberry flavored candy was pressed against my lips.

His lips captured mine once more, along with my breath and my heartbeat.

The buzzing of the overhead lights, the faint scent of machine oil replaced by the sweetness of fruit... it was disorienting.

The vast space amplified every small sound: the cool yet burning touch of his skin, our mingled breaths, the embarrassing sounds of our kisses...

The roses in the trunk rustled gently, as if caressed by the March wind, fulfilling the promise of a joyride in another way.

Time ticked by, and the glass candy jar, long empty, rolled off the car and clattered to the ground, unnoticed.

After a long while, Osborn's soft laughter echoed in my ears.

Osborn: The other flavors are good too.

Osborn: I love this gift.

-

Option 3 (Osborn's Audio): Visit the Garage.

You: I'd like to see your garage, is that okay?

You: You said before that it's where you practice driving, but I haven't seen your other cars.

Osborn: Sure, I'll show you around today.

The jeep was quickly repaired, and Osborn took me to the back of the garage. Several rarely seen sports cars were parked there, gleaming under the lights.

Curious, I picked out the one that looked the most expensive, eager to try it out.

Osborn: This one?

You: Yep!

Osborn double-clicked the button on the car key, and the scissor doors on both sides automatically swung upwards.

I quickly hopped into the driver's seat, pretending to fasten my seatbelt, then gripped the steering wheel and turned to look at Osborn in the passenger seat.

You: Ahem, could you please fasten your seatbelt, sir?

[AUDIO BEGINS]

Osborn: Oh? What a rule-abiding driver. Osborn: But my hands are dirty. How about... you do it for me? Osborn : What? Why can't you do it? Aren't you the driver? And I seem to recall that this is what I usually do. Osborn: Lean a little closer and you'll be able to reach. Osborn : Why are your ears turning red? Osborn: Yes, just like that. There, it's fastened. See? Very simple. Osborn : Why are you staring at me? It's done, we can go now. Osborn: Don't know how to drive it? Should I give you a quick introduction first? Osborn : Well, I guess I could... but there's no such thing as a free introduction. Osborn: Don't worry, I won't make any unreasonable requests. Osborn: Just a small favor for your driver. Could you fasten my seatbelt for me from now on as well? Not too much to ask, is it? Osborn: You agree? Osborn: So, this is one of the team's cars. I drove it in a few amateur races. It performed quite well on the track. Osborn: The steering wheel is wrapped in specially tanned lambskin. Feel it, it's very soft. Osborn: Open the engine start-stop cover. It's right there on your right. Press it to start the ignition. Osborn: Below that is the handbrake... I said grab the handbrake, not my hand. Osborn: Okay, now let's take a look at the gentleman in the passenger seat. Osborn: A professional racer who can drive cars, planes, boats, and even tractors. Excellent physique, strong and capable. Osborn: Charming and sophisticated, yet also a skilled cook. Always willing to help, rain or shine. Osborn: If you can drive this car home today, then this gentleman comes free with it. Osborn: Huh? You're seriously driving? Slow down, slow down! The brake! Osborn: Wow, you really are a woman of action. But some things require a more gradual approach. Osborn: It seems this car is a bit too much for you to handle. Osborn: I'll take over. Osborn: Switch seats. Let's go for a spin.

-

Option 4: Ask Osborn.

You: Hmm, I haven't decided yet.

You: Do you have anywhere you want to go?

Osborn: Then let's stick to the original plan, I'll take you out for a fancy dinner.

You: Original plan?

Osborn: Silly, of course it can't just be roses on a day like this.

Osborn: We can't miss out on a candlelit dinner.

You: Pfft...

Osborn: What? Too cheesy?

You: No, no, I'm really looking forward to it!

Osborn quickly finished repairing the car, and we went to change our clothes.

When I came out, Osborn was already waiting for me, dressed in a black suit, sitting calmly on the sofa.

Osborn: Ready? Then let's head out.

Osborn drove the orange jeep all the way towards the outskirts of the city, and I couldn't help but become curious.

You: Where are we going for dinner?

Osborn: Up in the mountains.

He grinned at my surprised expression.

The car reached a one-way lane, and he smoothly shifted gears, pressing down on the accelerator. The vehicle hugged the speed limit as it sped into the darkness.

As we climbed the winding mountain road, the scenery on either side blurred like a moving painting, then faded into the distance.

Soon, golden lights appeared on the mountaintop. It was a magnificent, romantic-looking restaurant.

Osborn parked the car in front of the entrance, and a valet quickly came over to open my door.

I walked into the restaurant, my arm linked with Osborn's. The surrounding floor-to-ceiling windows were like golden frames, showcasing the panoramic night view of the city.

Waiter: Welcome. Do you have a reservation?

Osborn: Yes, under Xiao Yi.

Waiter: Right this way, Mr. Xiao.

We were led to a table for two by the window. The lighting above us was dim and romantic, the candle flames flickering softly, and in the distance, someone was playing a gentle, dreamy fantasia on the piano.

I noticed a card on the table, an event for the holiday, with a list of "truth or dare" style questions.

You: Osborn, should we try this?

Osborn: Sure.

You: First question: "Which do you prefer, the food here, or a home-cooked meal made by your partner?"

Osborn: A home-cooked meal made by you, of course.

Osborn: Hey, remember that lunchbox you made for me that time? The guys on the racing team were so jealous.

You: Really? Then I'll make you another one next time.

Osborn: Okay, it's a promise.

You: Hmm, the second question... "Why did you bring your partner to this restaurant?"

Osborn: Because this is the tallest restaurant in Guangqi City.

I followed his gaze and looked out the window. The city lights below shimmered like a golden river.

Osborn: You can see almost every part of the city from here.

Osborn: Including the places where we first met, where we reunited, and all the places we've been together.

My heart swelled with emotion as I listened, reliving our journey together in those brief moments.

Suddenly, Osborn snatched the card from my hand, scanned the questions, and a mischievous smile spread across his face.

Osborn: My turn to ask.

Osborn: "What's your favorite way to address your partner?"

I thought carefully, various options running through my mind.

1) [Recording Your Audio: Choose the term of endearment you'd like to use.] - Saying something random.

Osborn blinked, a hint of confusion in his eyes as he looked at me.

Osborn: Hmm, I don't remember you ever calling me that.

You: I... I must have remembered wrong.

Osborn shrugged, not saying anything more, and simply raised his hand to continue looking through the cards.

Osborn: Let's move on to the next question then.

2) [Recording Your Audio: Choose the term of endearment you'd like to use.] - Saying his name.

Osborn: Ah.

Osborn responded softly, reaching out to take my hand from where it rested on the table.

Osborn: Any others? Say a couple more for me?

You: Others? That depends on the situation.

Osborn: Let me think...like, when you need to act cute?

You: Act cute...?

He hadn't described a specific scenario, but I could feel my cheeks flushing.

Osborn: What nickname did you think of?

I parted my lips slightly, the word almost escaping.

But then I snapped out of it, meeting Osborn's playful gaze.

You: Nothing! Next question!

Osborn: Okay, next question.

2) [Recording Your Audio: Choose the term of endearment you'd like to use.] - Saying something like my beloved, husband, or baby.

Osborn: Cough... cough...!

Osborn, who was drinking water, started choking. He coughed for a while before stopping, then looked up at me with a mixture of amusement and surprise.

Osborn: What was that nickname?

You: It... it was just... um...

I gestured with my hands, my face growing redder and redder. In the end, I nearly buried my head under the table.

Osborn: I think I get it.

You: Y-You get what?

Meeting Osborn's amused gaze, I became even more embarrassed and decided to bury my head, like an ostrich.

Osborn: You've already said it, why be shy now?

You: It's just that... normally, couples would answer that question with something else... I was just trying to go with the flow...

My explanation seemed to make things worse. Osborn raised a hand to cover his mouth, stifling his laughter, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

Osborn: I like the answer. I'm very satisfied. A perfect 10 out of 10.

-

Option 5: None of the above options.

Although it was a simple repair, by the time we finished fixing the car, the sun had already set.

I stretched, and then burst out laughing when I noticed a smudge of black grease on Osborn's face.

Osborn raised an eyebrow and reached out to my face. I tried to dodge, but he still managed to leave a matching mark on my cheek with his fingertip.

You: Hey, that's not fair!

Osborn: What's "fair"? Do we need that between us?

Osborn: Come on, little dirty cat, let's go get some rest.

We tidied up a bit, then collapsed onto the sofa, exhausted.

The voices coming from the TV were like a lullaby, and my head drooped, my eyelids growing heavy…

In that hazy space between sleep and wakefulness, I felt increasingly cold and unconsciously moved closer to the warmth beside me.

Osborn: If you're tired, just rest for a bit…

I mumbled in agreement, turned over, and was enveloped in a familiar, warm embrace.

------------------------End of Options------------------------

The night cast a gentle glow on the coastline as Osborn parked the car by the road.

Osborn: Want to go for a walk? The view is nice here.

We strolled along the shore, the lights of the city and the stars reflected on the water's surface, like shimmering specks surrounding us.

Suddenly, a cheer erupted from the nearby plaza. Countless points of light converged in the night sky, forming a heart shape.

Then, the heart transformed into a layered rose, and I gasped.

You: It's a drone show! Someone must be making a confession!

Curious, I stood on tiptoe, trying to see through the crowd gathered to watch the spectacle, but I couldn't make out the people at the center.

Osborn: What do you think of this kind of confession?

Osborn suddenly asked, and I looked at him in surprise. He didn't seem like someone who would be interested in this sort of thing.

You: It's alright, quite romantic.

You: Some people think that love is a private matter between two people, but others want to announce their love to the world.

You: It's just a way of expressing your feelings.

Osborn nodded thoughtfully.

Osborn: Which do you prefer?

You: Me?

You: I think what matters isn't the method, but the right person.

You: As long as it's with the right person, any method is perfect.

We stopped walking. Everyone else had gone to watch the show, leaving us alone in this quiet corner.

Osborn: Actually, Puning and the others gave me a lot of crazy suggestions.

Thinking about the messages on his phone and the roses carefully arranged in the car trunk, I had already guessed.

Osborn: But this one, it was entirely my idea.

You: Huh?

Osborn: Come closer.

I took a small step towards him, and my eyes met his, my reflection clear in their depths.

My cheeks felt warm, and I wasn't sure if it was from the wind or from the anticipation rising within me.

Osborn took something out of his pocket, his head slightly bowed as he leaned towards me.

A cool sensation against my neck, accompanied by a soft click, made me look down.

A long necklace rested on my chest, its pendant oddly familiar. Looking closer, I realized it was almost identical to the necklace Osborn wore.

You: It's a button...

Osborn: Mm-hmm.

Osborn nodded, his fingertip gently touching the pendant, bringing the button closer to my heart.

Osborn: You said once that the second button on a shirt is the closest to the heart.

Osborn: So now, your heart must be filled with me.

Under the night sky, his eyes sparkled with tenderness.

I nodded softly, my fingers tightening around the necklace until the small metal button was warm from my touch.

In truth, it wasn't just my heart, but my eyes, my memories... they were all filled with him.

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

PHONE CALL

Osborn: Hello? I'm here.

Osborn: Why the long silence? Did you accidentally call me?

You: No! I...

Osborn: Hmm? What's wrong?

You: I had a few drinks with my colleagues, and I'm a bit tipsy, so my reactions are a bit slow.

Osborn: You had drinks? Well, it's good that you remembered to call me, at least.

Osborn: Send me your location. I'll come pick you up.

You: Are you free now…? No, wait, that's not important!

You: What do you think of me?

Osborn: What do you mean?

Osborn: Oh, you mean my opinion of you?

Osborn: Hmm, that's a question I'll have to think about carefully.

You: Just tell me your first impression!

Osborn: You're a good person.

You: Huh? That's it...?

Osborn: You sound a little disappointed.

You: You: No, I'm just sleepy!

Osborn: Just kidding. You're wonderful, even more wonderful than I imagined.

You: Really? I don't think I'm as good as you say...

Osborn: Well, I'm the one who's always paying attention to you, so trust me.

Osborn: If I had to say something negative… it would be your self-doubt, like right now. But other than that, you're great.

Osborn: Is that enough?

You: More than enough! Actually… actually, I've liked you for a long time.

Osborn: I already knew that.

You: No, I mean… Your car is really cool, I've liked it for a long time!

Osborn: That's not allowed.

You: Huh? Why not?

Osborn: Liking me because of me is fine. Liking me because of my car is not.

Osborn: Can't have the cause and effect reversed. I'll give you another chance to rephrase that.

You: Okay, okay, I get it...

You: Ahem, sorry, actually, that was just a prank…

Osborn: Oh? And which part was the prank?

Osborn: I think one part was true. The part before "liking my car."

Osborn: I forgot to mention, I feel the same.

You: Osborn...

You: This is a bit embarrassing, but I have to confess, this call was actually a dare from a drinking game....

Osborn: Oh, a drinking game?

You: Yeah, the loser has to call the third person in their call history and confess to them, exactly like I just did.

Osborn: Then I should be grateful that I'm the third person on your list. Otherwise, you would have called someone else.

You: But my acting was good, wasn't it? You didn't even notice!

Osborn: I think you're mistaken. I was playing along.

You: Huh?

Osborn: I already guessed it was a prank. I was deliberately playing along.

You: Osborn!

You: Forget it, you tricked me, I tricked you, we're even.

You: But that means... what you said earlier was also...

Osborn: Of course it was true. When have I ever lied to you?

Osborn: If you don't believe me, I'll say it again in person. Send me your location. See you soon.

-

TEXT MESSAGE

Osborn: Have you noticed the change? You: Is it… your clothes? Osborn: Huh? When do I not change clothes? Osborn: Think carefully. The consequences of giving me a perfunctory answer are severe. You: Wait, I know! You're teasing me again! Osborn: Wow, quick on the uptake this time. Osborn: Just kidding. I changed cars. This one matches your outfit. Osborn: You seemed a bit down today, so I thought this would distract you. But next time, pay more attention to me, okay? You: Oh my god, you did! I'm so sorry I didn't notice! 5555 Osborn (Voice MSG): If you want to apologize, you can treat me to dinner tonight. Osborn (Voice MSG): I've already made reservations. No working overtime today, that's the deal.

TIMELINE POST

Osborn: We agreed beforehand, whoever loses the courage test is the chicken.

You: I'm the chicken! Hugging onto Boss Xiao's leg, no one can chase me away!

Osborn's Reply: So clinging to my arm wasn't enough, you want to hug my leg too?

.

.

.

.

.

Light and Night Masterlist

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[danpuff-ao3]

Non-HP Recs

Normally I don't read outside of my main fandom, due to the powers of hyperfixation. But lately, between tempting Twitter recs and a walk down memory lane, I've spent more time reading (or rereading) non-HP fics and figured I'd throw some favorites together for anyone interested!

America Isn't Chicken

by Amuly. Fandom: Marvel. Ship: Steve/Tony. Words: 130,631. Rated: E. Dub-con. Angst. Violence. Kidnapping. Getting together. Gay chicken.

After a Civil War, death, rebirth, a takeover by Osborn, brain deletion, and the fall of Asgard, Steve and Tony might just be starting to get back on solid ground with one another. Things aren't perfect, not yet, but they can be in the same room as each other without resorting to violence, and they've even managed to share a smile or two. Seems like the perfect time, then, for Tony to try and fuck it all up with a stupid game of gay chicken. Meanwhile, as if he didn't have enough to worry about, Tony realizes some kind of supervillainous trouble is brewing when increasingly advanced armors start popping up all over Manhattan, looking strangely reminiscent of his tech. On the other side of the world, Steve gets news that Zola is on the move in Russia, with some sort of nefarious plan at work.  Which will ruin them first? Will it be this unknown armored villain who is after Tony's tech? Or will it be Zola unleashing his mysterious plan on the world? Or will Steve and Tony prove to be their own worst enemies, destroying the tentative truce they managed to forge with their own stubbornness?

Notes: this fic was my jam and I read it soooo many times. I love all the denial and temptation and angst!! Also: mega hot.

Met the Dodgers

by Amuly. Fandom: Marvel. Ship: Steve/Tony. Words: 17,192. Rated: M. Baseball. Fluff & angst. Romance.

Tony decides that, with his reputation, there's only one best way to show Steve he's serious about their budding relationship. Buy the Dodgers and move them back to Brooklyn for him.

Notes: I have no words, only feelings. Big, lovely feelings.

The Writing on the Wall

by DasMervin, MrsHyde. Fandom: Supernatural. Ship: Dean/Castiel. Series: 26 works. Words: 574,830. Rated: E. Demisexual Cas. Internalized homophobia. Slow burn. Heavy angst.

The writing was on the wall—and now Dean just had to try and understand it. A Post-Season Six alternate universe, going a different route from what happened in Season Seven and exploring a long and difficult relationship between Dean and Castiel.

Notes: This is the series that introduced me to the term "demisexual" and is what led me on the journey of exploring asexuality. I identified as demi myself for a while until I finally accepted my full ace-ness, but I learned a lot along the way, and it was all thanks to this fic. Plus all the inner turmoil and internalized homophobia?? This series is a GEM if you like extended suffering and true love overcoming all.

Blackbird

by emungere. Fandom: Hannibal. Ship: Hannibal/Will. Words: 88,892. Rated: E. Emotional manipulation. Possessive behavior. Sadism & masochism. Dom/sub. Case fic. Murder. Knifeplay/bloodplay.

Shortly after Will kills Garret Jacob Hobbs, he and Hannibal stumble into a D/s relationship. It's a relief to have Hannibal telling him what to do, but the closer they become, the closer he gets to realizing who and what Hannibal really is.

Notes: this author is great.

What Dreams

by emungere. Fandom: Hannibal. Ship: Hannibal/Will. Series: 2 works. Words: 92,878. Rated: E. Sugar daddy. Courtship. Slow burn.

A seduction through physical objects. It starts with a scarf loaned to Will on a cold day, but Hannibal, as usual, isn't satisfied with anything small.

Notes: the first Hannigram fic I read and I was SOLD. Obsessed.

Shinkton

by iesika. Fandom: Hannibal. Ship: Hannibal/Will. Series: 2 works. Words: 65,342. Rated: M. Secret identity. Secret relationship. Murder Valentines. Courtship. Knifeplay/bloodplay. Unsafe sex. Dub-con. Animal harm. Suicidal thoughts.

Courtship and marriage among killers and cannibals.

Notes: Saw @vitaminpops on Twitter talking about "sweet williams" showing up in Hannigram fics and I was seized by NEED. They gave me this link and I INHALED it. On a busy work day no less. Any spare minute I had, I was reading. And now it's inspired a Hannibal rewatch. 10/10 do recommend.

To a Stranger

by Mad_Lori. Fandom: Sherlock. Ship: John/Sherlock. Words: 156,714. Rated: E. Hollywood AU. Secret relationship. Romance. Show Business. Coming Out.

Sherlock Holmes is an Oscar winner in the midst of a career slump. John Watson is an Everyman actor trapped in the rom-com ghetto. When they are cast as a gay couple in a new independent drama, will they surprise each other? Will their on-screen romance make its way into the real world?

Notes: again, I'm not always an AU person, but this is 10/10. Another one due for a reread I think!

IllumiNaughty

orphaned. Fandom: Marvel. Ships: Steve/Tony (main), T'Challa/Namor, Tony/Steve/Black Bolt/T'Challa/Namor/Hank McCoy/Strange. Extreme dub-con. Gangbang. Punishment. Condoms. Emotional manipulation. Guilt. Emotional/psychological abuse. DEAD DOVE.

It's after the incursions are put to an end, after the multiverse is saved... and after Steve finds out that Tony (and the rest of the Illuminati) wiped his memory to keep the incursion events from him. Tony wants to make things right, so Steve gives him an ultimatum: allow the members of the Illuminati to gang-bang Tony, while Steve watches and instructs.

Notes: not gonna lie, this is very messed up but also very hot. I've truly read this fic to death. (Time for a reread? Probably!)

Out of the Deep

by riseofthefallenone. Fandom: Supernatural. Ship: Dean/Castiel. Words: 488,608. Rated: E. Fantasy AU. Human Dean. Merman Castiel. Telepathy. Hurt/comfort. Minor character death.

Stay away from the light-beds. Stay in the deep. It is the first thing hatchlings are taught the moment their fans unfurl and they can swim without their parents to buoy them along. It is the first rule, the first law. It is the beginning of every boogey-monster bedtime story told when they settle against the cliffs to sleep. Castiel should have listened better.

Notes: AUs don't always draw me in, and they certainly didn't several years ago, but this fic is so special. There is so much thought and care put into the merfolk world/culture, and how a relationship could unfold between a human and a merman. It is a very long and beautiful journey between these two.

Though the Truth May Vary

by thepretender501. Fandom: Marvel. Ships: Steve/Tony, Loki/Tony, Coulson/Steve, Rhodey/Tony (main: Steve/Tony.) Words: 3,890. Rated: M. Flangst. Open relationship. Jealousy.

And Steve wasn’t an addict. He could quit Tony anytime he wanted. He just didn’t want to.

Notes: idk what to say about this one, just it's forever stuck out for me. Something about it just feels special.

[casskeeps]

berlin standing goddess

basics

name: berlin standing goddess

date: 570-560 bce (early-mid archaic)

artist: unknown

function: unknown

size: 1.93m - slightly over life-size

original, reconstructed, or copy: original marble

subject matter

we don't really know ! she's a kore, but her size has been interpreted as a sign that she represents something more deified. either way, it's a very typical female archaic statue - draped in a mantle and chiton, but her prop is notable; she holds a pomegranate.

context

the inclusion of the pomegranate is particularly interesting - pomegranates are sometimes associated with the goddess hera. however, its position over her pelvis may act as a symbol of fertility, but has also been noted for its funerary connotations.

composition

the berlin standing goddess has an almost identical pose to most female statues - korai - but with a major difference: the positioning of the hands. the hands of the berlin standing goddess are kept close to the centre of the body, as opposed to being kept at the sides or held out, extending into the frontal plane. her pose is very self-contained; her feet are close together as she stands completely still, and she faces straight ahead. the effect of this still and rigid pose is that she feels disconnected from the viewer - the lack of naturalism in the positioning of the body makes her appear stiff, instead of regally still.

as per archaic traditions, we see the typical issues regarding the interactions of joints, particularly in the arms; the right arm (holding the pomegranate) is flat against her side, yet the hand itself is twisted. this is impossible to replicate in human figures, as the twist of the radius and ulna expose the inner forearm more than is visible on the berlin standing goddess. her feet are also particularly inaccurate; the bridges of the feet are raised significantly, making the feet appear triangular from the profile. perhaps most notably, her face is, for lack of a better word, horrifying. i apologise to the berlin standing goddess lovers, but i would use her to ward off evil spirits at a temple. her eyes are insectoid and protrude significantly from the head, most visibly from the profile, and her archaic smile is particularly unsettling as there is no true sense of the interaction of the different areas of the face - what should be the nasolabial fold appears more like misplaced and oversized infraorbital edema (eye bags).

the content has some deviation from the archaic standard; not only is the berlin standing goddess holding a prop, she also wears a polos - the tall headpiece (that is often associated with fertility goddesses). i haven't been able to find any definitive sources on what she's actually wearing (looking through woodford, boardman, and osborne books), but it looks like a peplos, with an epiblema/mantle draped over. she's got a lot of jewellery on: a necklace with matching earrings, both adorned with bud-like pendants, and a bracelet on her left wrist.

she too, has fallen victim to the dreaded archaic smile; while it is an attempt to enliven the figure, it is not able to save her from the rigid stoicism of her pose and the rest of her face. her eyes, wide open and insectoid, protrude from her head, and create a strange impression of half giddy joy, and half phlegmatic stillness.

her overall body is well-proportioned, if a little oversized, but the details of anatomy are poorly proportioned and particularly alien. her side profile, however, is particularly worrying, as her ears are extremely far back, making the space between the ear and the browbone inhumanly long, and also extending the jawline to almost the back of the neck.

one of the berlin standing goddess' most interesting features is her use of props; she carries a pomegranate and interacts with the drapery wrapped over her shoulders. the significance of the pomegranate is a subject of debate, as it is unclear whether it is present as a symbol of fertility (suggested by its position over the pelvis), or as a symbol of a goddess or funerary purpose. she tucks her thumb between the heavy drapery and her garment underneath, a markedly human action for such a stoic figure.

the drapery of the statue is one of its most notable features; it demonstrates an awareness of gravity and form that other korai from the same period do not. this is most evident from behind - the drapery around her shoulders forms large catenary folds over her back, and the skirt is curved to demonstrate the existence of the legs and glutei.

stylistic features

this statue has many features that are typical of the archaic period, most notably on the head - this is largely due to the fact that the modest drapery obscures any of the anatomical features that would usually be noted in archaic sculpture.

the hair is made of a repeating pattern, but instead of a beaded pattern as on most kouroi, the berlin standing goddess has a scalloped pattern to emulate her hairline.

the use of the archaic smile to add vitality and expression to the statue is also common, but there is a key difference in its representation when compared to other statues of the period: her upper lip does not have as distinct a depiction as her lower lip, instead appearing more shelf-like.

scholars

boardman: "gaunt and clumsy, redeemed only by the bold carving and simple drapery"

woodford: "dominated by heavy drapery that obscures rather than reveals the body it covers"

extra information

runshaw classics

boardman

woodford

[ceekbee]

Xtra Thoughts

April 23

All I have is today, this moment, now. I can spend this moment making it the best moment yet with fearlessness, trust, courage, confidence, faith and love or I can waste it with doubt, anxiety, worry, regret, anger, fear, distress and hurt. Knowing that whichever way I choose determines the experiences I will have, I choose to use the opportunity of each moment to live my life to the fullest, always choosing love.

–Carol A James

Those who enjoy the greatest lives are not extraordinary people, or even ordinary people with something added. They are not necessarily the wealthiest or most professionally acclaimed. Those who sparkle with aliveness are ordinary people with nothing taken away. They have not lost their wonder of the moment. They cherish the presence of a friend; they marvel when a child takes their hand. They find a gift in each moment of living.

–Mary Manin Morrissey

I choose to love others, as God would. This means no severe judging, no resentments, no malicious gossip, no destructive criticism.

–Sweety Zee

Creativity is so delicate a flower that praise tends to make it bloom, while discouragement often nips it in the bud. Any of us will put out more and better ideas if our efforts are appreciated.

–Alexander F. Osborn

Forgiveness is a not a gift we give to the other person, rather, God’s gift to us.

–Unknown

God goes ahead of us, preparing the way.

–Jean A Samples

[claudia1829things]

"VANITY FAIR" (2018) Review

“VANITY FAIR” (2018) Review

When I had first heard that the ITV channel and Amazon Studios had plans to adapt William Makepeace Thackeray’s 1848 novel, ��Vanity Fair”, I must admit that I felt no interest in watching the miniseries. After all, I had already seen four other adaptations, including the BBC’s 1987 production. And I regard the latter as the best version of Thackeray’s novel I had ever seen.

In the end, my curiosity got the best of me and I decided to watch the seven-part miniseries. In a nutshell, "VANITY FAIR" followed the experiences of Rebecca "Becky" Sharp, the social climbing daughter of an English not-so-successful painter and a French dancer in late Georgian England during and after the Napoleonic Wars. The production also told the story of Becky's school friend and daughter of a wealthy merchant, Amelia Sedley. The story begins with both young women leaving Miss Pinkerton’s Academy for Young Ladies. Becky managed to procure a position as governess to Sir Pitt Crawley, a slightly crude yet friendly baronet. Before leaving for her new position, Becky visits Amelia's family. She tries to seduce Jos Sedley, Amelia's wealthy brother and East India Company civil servant. Unfortunately George Osborne, a friend of Jos and son of another wealthy merchant, puts a stop to the budding romance.

While working for the Crawleys, Becky meets and falls in love with Sir Pitt’s younger son, Captain Rawdon Crawley. When Sir Pitt proposes marriage to Becky, she shocks the family with news of her secret marriage to Rawdon. The couple becomes ostracized and ends up living in London on Rawdon’s military pay and gambling winnings. They also become reacquainted with Amelia Sedley, who has her own problems. When her father loses his fortune, George's own father insists that he dump Amelia and marry a Jamaican heiress. George refuses to do so and thanks to his friend William Dobbin's urging, marries Amelia. Mr. Osborne ends up disinheriting George. However, the romantic lives of Becky and Amelia take a backseat when history overtakes them and their husbands with the return of Napoleon Bonaparte.

I wish I could say that the 2018 miniseries was the best adaptation of Thackery's novel I had seen. But it is not. The production had its . . . flaws. One, I disliked its use of the song "All Along the Watchtower" in each episode's opening credits and other rock and pop tunes during the episodes' closing credits. They felt so out of place in the miniseries' production. Yes, I realize that a growing number of period dramas have doing the same. And quite frankly, I detest it. This scenario barely worked in the 2006 movie, "MARIE ANTOINETTE". Now, this use of pop tunes in period dramas strike me as awkward, ham-fisted, unoriginal and lazy.

I also noticed that producer and screenwriter Gwyneth Hughes threw out the younger Pitt Crawley character (Becky's brother-in-law), kept the Bute Crawley character and transformed him from Becky Sharp's weak and unlikable uncle-in-law into her brother-in-law. Hughes did the same with the Lady Jane Crawley and Martha Crawley characters. She tossed aside the Lady Jane character and transformed Martha from Becky's aunt-in-law to sister-in-law. Frankly, I did not care for this. I just could not see characters like Bute and Martha suddenly become sympathetic guardians for Becky and Rawdon's son in the end. It just did not work for me. I have one last problem with "VANITY FAIR", but I will get to it later.

I may not regard "VANITY FAIR" as the best adaptation of Thackery's novel, I cannot deny that it is first-rate. Gwyneth Hughes and director James Strong did an excellent job of bringing the 1848 novel to life on the television screen. Because this adaptation was conveyed in seven episodes, both Hughes and Strong were given the opportunity retell Thackery's saga without taking too many shortcuts. The miniseries replayed Becky Sharp's experiences with the Sedley family, George Osbourne, and the Crawley family in great detail. I was especially impressed by the miniseries' recount of Becky and Amelia's experiences during the Waterloo campaign - which is the story's true high point, as far as I am concerned. Also, this adaptation had conveyed George's experiences during Waterloo with more detail than any other adaptation I have seen.

Aside from the Waterloo sequence, there were other scenes that greatly impressed me. I really enjoyed those scenes that featured the famous Duchess of Richmond's ball in the fourth episode, "In Which Becky Joins Her Regiment"; Becky's attempts to woo Jos Sedley in the first episode, "Miss Sharp In The Presence Of The Enemy"; the revelation of Becky's marriage to Rawdon Crawley in "A Quarrel About An Heiress"; and her revelation to Amelia about the truth regarding George in the final episode, "Endings and Beginnings". There were people who were put off that the series did not end exactly how the novel did - namely the death of Jos, with whom Becky had hooked up in the end. I have to be honest . . . that did not bother me. However, I was amused that Becky's last line in the miniseries seemed to hint that Jos' death might be a possibility in the near future.

The production values for "VANITY FAIR" struck me as quite beautiful. I thought Anna Pritchard's production designs did an excellent job in re-creating both London, the English countryside, Belgium, Germany, India and West Africa between the Regency era and the early 1830s. Not only did I find the miniseries' production values beautiful, but also Ed Rutherford's cinematography. His images struck me as not only beautiful, but sharp and colorful. I would not say that Lucinda Wright and Suzie Harman's costume designs blew my mind. But I cannot deny that I found them rather attractive and serviceable for the narrative's setting.

One of the production's real virtues proved to be a very talented cast. "VANITY FAIR" featured some solid performances from it supporting players. Well . . . I would say more than solid. I found the performances of Robert Pugh, Peter Wight, Suranne Jones, Claire Skinner, Mathew Baynton, Sian Clifford, Monica Dolan, and Elizabeth Berrington to be more than solid. In fact, I would say they gave excellent performances. But they were not alone.

Michael Palin, whom I have not seen in a movie or television production in years, gave an amusing narration in each episode as the story's author William Makepeace Thackeray. Ellie Kendrick gave a very poignant performance as Jane Osborne, who seemed to be caught between her loyalty to her bitter father and her long-suffering sister-in-law. Simon Beale Russell gave a superb, yet ambiguous portrayal of the warm and indulgent John Sedley, who also had a habit of infantilizing his family. Frances de la Tour was deliciously hilarious and entertaining as Becky Sharp's aunt-in-law and benefactress Lady Matilda Crawley. I could also say the same about Martin Clunes, who gave a very funny performance as the crude, yet lively Sir Pitt Crawley. One last funny performance came from David Fynn, who gave an excellent portrayal of the vain, yet clumsy civil servant, Jos Sedley. Anthony Head gave a skillful performance as the cynical and debauched Lord Styne. I thought Charlie Rowe was superb as the self-involved and arrogant George Osborne. Rowe, whom I recalled as a child actor, practically oozed charm, arrogance and a false sense of superiority in his performance as the shallow George.

I have only seen Johnny Flynn in two roles - including the role of William Dobbin in this production. After seeing "VANITY FAIR", it seemed that the William Dobbin role seemed tailored fit for him. He gave an excellent performance as the stalwart Army officer who endured years of unrequited love toward Amelia Sedley. Tom Bateman was equally excellent as the charming, yet slightly dense Rawdon Crawley. At first, I thought Bateman would portray Rawdon as this dashing, yet self-confident Army officer. But thanks to his performance, the actor gradually revealed that underneath all that glamour and dash was a man who was not as intelligent as he originally seemed to be. Amelia Sedley has never been a favorite character of mine. Her intense worship of the shallow George has always struck me as irritating. Thanks to Claudia Jessie's excellent performance, I not only saw Amelia as irritating as usual, but also sympathetic for once.

Television critics had lavished a great deal of praise upon Olivia Cooke as the sharp-witted and manipulative Becky Sharp. In fact, many have labeled her performance as one of the best versions of that character. And honestly? I have to agree. Cooke was more than superb . . . she was triumphant as the cynical governess who used her charms and wit in an attempt to climb the social ladder of late Georgian Britain. I would not claim that Cooke was the best on-screen Becky I have seen, but she was certainly one of the better ones. I have only one minor complaint - I found her portrayal of Becky as a poor parent to her only son rather strident. Becky has always struck me as a cold mother to Rawdon Junior. But instead of cold, Cooke's Becky seemed to scream in anger every time she was near the boy. I found this heavy-handed and I suspect the real perpetrator behind this was either screenwriter Gwyneth Hughes or director James Strong.

I have a few complaints about "VANITY FAIR". I will not deny it. But I also cannot deny that despite its few flaws, I thought it was an excellent adaptation of William Makepeace Thackeray's novel. Actually, I believe it is one of the better adaptations. "VANITY FAIR" is also one of the best period dramas I have seen from British television in a LONG TIME. And I mean a long time. Most period dramas I have seen in the past decade were either mediocre or somewhere between mediocre and excellent. "VANITY FAIR" is one of the first that has led me to really take notice in years. And I have to credit Gwyneth Hughes' writing, James Strong's direction and especially the superb performances from a first-rate cast led by Olivia Cooke. It would be nice to see more period dramas of this quality in the near future.

[movies-to-add-to-your-tbw]

Title: The Little Prince

Rating: PG

Director: Mark Osborne

Cast: Jeff Bridges, Mackenzie Foy, Rachel McAdams, Marion Cotillard, Riley Osborne, James Franco, Bud Cort, Benicio del Toro, Ricky Gervais, Albert Brooks, Paul Rudd, Paul Giamatti, Jacquie Barnbrook, Marcel Bridges, Jeffy Branion, Maddie Osborne

Release year: 2015

Genres: family, adventure, fantasy

Blurb: A little girl lives with resignation in a world where efficiency and work are the only dogmas...but everything will change when she accidentally discovers her neighbour, who will tell her about the story of the Little Prince that he once met.

[underude]

@inhcritance liked for pain ( probably )

" . . . oh, god. "

where does he even start ??? the swirl of emotion in his chest is hard to decipher. first and foremost , relief. second , to see his best friend's face on the front of an article rather than in person feels strange. so it begins : jameson's strategic take down of Oscorp and its subsidiaries began ages ago. this past week only made things that much worse.

' OSBORN HEIR FOUND ALIVE '

the title read plain to your average reader. it was the subtext that brought his heart to his throat. he was released the night before. more importantly : Harry had been seen awake.

does he call ? no. he's surely got a lot on his hands.

maybe a text would work. something Harry could tackle at his own pace. he settles , opens the app and starts typing . . .

and then he stops. starts again . . . delete , delete , delete . . .

" fuck. " he has to do something. ultimately Pete lands on a safe , likely lame choice.

' hey, bud. if there's anything i can do, call me. i'll be around. '

his thumb still hovers over the 'send' arrow for a full four minutes too long . . . before eventually it's sent off with a fated, anxious press of the screen.

[halflingkima]

Dealers choice on 7 for orym or your dnd fic!

Thank you so much! 7 is Break Mine by Brothers Osborne which gave me some strong early-campaign Ashrym vibes, so I went with that.

What's goin’ on tonight, are you feelin’ like You could use me right about now If you’re over makin’ plans, over givin’ damns I could be your man right now

Send me a Spotify Wrapped number + a character/pairing/fandom/etc & I'll write at least a drabble inspired by the song.

It’s become a bit of a habit, following Orym on his little sabbaticals to check up on him. Or be checked up on. Whatever. Someone’s gotta keep an eye out for the quiet, steady ones before they’re no longer quiet or steady. Just because Orym’s got his head screwed on best doesn’t mean things don’t get messy in there.

Ashton finds the halfling perched on a boulder, legs crossed, eyes closed.

"Hey, uh –" he never fucking thinks before he opens his mouth, does he?

Orym briefly cracks one eye with a gentle smirk that says he heard Ashton's footsteps the whole trek out here.

“What’s up, bud?” Orym asks.

“Ah, you know, nothing much,” Ashton answers. They sit on the ground, back to Orym’s boulder. Maybe they could try that meditation thing, get their head screwed on straight too & take at least a little of that solid, dependable pressure off the little guy’s sturdy shoulders.

After a few beats of silence, Ashton can’t stand it anymore. “Does this work for you?” he asks Orym. “Just sitting here sorting through stuff on your own?”

“Sometimes,” Orym answers. “Why?”

“Don’t you ever need to say something out loud, bounce it off another person to make sense of it?”

The silence returns as Orym apparently considers their question with more thought than it’s worth.

“Does that work for you?” the halfling finally asks.

“Keeping things up here is not easy for me.” Ashton’s finger makes a soft clink against the glass of his head. “They get looped and tangled and just keep spiraling. When I say things out loud, it’s like they become real, if only for a second, and I can decide what to do with them.”

The silence settles around them long enough that Ashton assumes Orym’s just returned to meditating or whatever. Ashton listens to his breathing from up on the rock behind them. It’s comforting to know Orym’s there even though they can’t see him. Weird.

“I do have thoughts like that,” Orym says softly. “But anything I can’t work out on my own is generally the big stuff. Big personal stuff. The stuff that’s easy to hold onto for a while. Until there’s time. And given the road we’re on, there isn’t really time just now, you know?”

Ashton hums. “Just ‘cause it’s easy to hold onto or compartmentalize for a rainy day doesn’t mean it’s not having an effect.”

“Yeah, well…” Ashton can hear the unspoken, defeatist what can ya do? They stand, brushing dirt from their trousers, to see that Orym’s no longer meditating. He’s pulled his knees to his chest, staring out into middle distance.

Ashton lays a heavy stone hand on his small shoulder. “That’s my point,” he says. Orym turns to him. “I’m here if you need me.”

Orym’s brow furrows and Ashton regroups; he thought he’d made this clear with their earlier conversations. “I know you feel like your problems are small potatoes because you’re not gonna accidentally kill us in your sleep or whatever, but everyone’s got shit to deal with. So, just know, I’m here for you. If you need a sounding board, if you need someone to make the inside of your head sound a bit less crazy, if you just need a mind-numbing distraction, I’m your guy. Judgement-free zone. Personally, I can always do with a distraction; this red moon shit is wild.”

When Ashton can finally get ahold of their rambling, Orym is beaming up at them. “Thanks, Ash,” he says, and seems to genuinely mean it.