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saintsenara · 1 year ago

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are you still doing ur asks abt the ships? if u are what r ur thoughts on wolfstar? if not have a very good day!

thank you very much for the ask anon - and thank you in particular for leading me into danger...

my answer to this is going to be - and wolfstar shippers keep calm please - similar to my jegulus one. which means the tldr is: write what you want, but i’m unlikely to read it, especially if you don’t acknowledge the difference between canon and fanon.

i have no aversion to wolfstar coming up as a background ship [let them be happy while harry/anyone are having drama, i’m all for it] but i generally don’t search out fics in which wolfstar is [one of] the central pairing(s) and tend only to read wolfstar-centric stuff if it’s written or recommended by someone whose opinion i trust.

this isn’t because i think the pairing is unfeasible [the canonical sirius and remus very much have the vibes of people who have enjoyed each other’s bodies…] but because the community which has built up around wolfstar, both among "original wolfstar, y’know, like in canon" fans and their sworn enemies"‘marauders fandom, canon who?" fans, largely expects certain tropes and characterisations which divorce the characters from what i personally think is interesting about them.

the most egregious of these tropes, in my opinion, is the fact that wolfstar which purports to be canon-compliant or which follows the canon timeline deals so infrequently with the fact that both remus and sirius have such little trust in each other that they believed utterly sincerely that the other was a death eater.

it’s crucial that we understand the profundity of this suspicion and - therefore - what it says about the fragility of the loyalty between them prior to 1980-81. this is not a brief flash of distrust in a high-pressure couple of days at the end of october. the evidence of canon is that we’re talking about a period of months - if not a full year - in which remus and sirius not only think it justifiable to doubt the other’s loyalties, but also seem to be acting on that doubt to try to get the other in trouble.

harry is born in july 1980, at a point when voldemort has all but won the war. severus snape defects to the order at some point relatively soon after this, when voldemort decides that the potters are the family referred to in the prophecy. peter pettigrew then defects to the death eaters in the autumn of 1980 [which we know because sirius says in prisoner of azkaban that he was spying for a full year before voldemort’s fall].

snape then evidently tells dumbledore that there is a spy in the order - although he clearly doesn’t, despite a common accusation levelled against him, know this is pettigrew, since the voldemort of the first war has apparently heard of operational security, unlike his resurrected counterpart - and this leads dumbledore to demand a restriction on james and lily’s movements until - by august 1981 [the plausible date of lily’s letter to sirius in deathly hallows] - they are basically under house arrest. the implication of canon is that, by this summer at the very latest, james and lily are aware they’re being spied on, from which i think it’s reasonable to infer three things: that dumbledore has begun to suspect that sirius is the spy over the opening half of 1981; that remus, who canonically always trusts dumbledore’s judgements, uses this to confirm his own suspicions about sirius; and that sirius, whose canonical relationship with dumbledore has an undercurrent of unease, especially in order of the phoenix, picks up on this and assumes remus is briefing dumbledore against him. i think it’s also reasonable to infer that the only person convinced there isn’t a spy among his close friends is james.

peter visits the potters’ safe-house and is aware of its address, so we can assume remus and sirius are the same. by october 1981, however, there are clearly concerns that james and lily’s whereabouts are known to the death eaters - perhaps also accompanied by information from snape that voldemort, who loves a bit of symbolism, has selected halloween as the day he will strike - which trigger dumbledore’s advice that they perform the fidelius charm. dumbledore’s unease when james picks sirius as secret keeper is confirmation that he had identified sirius as the spy. that remus is never suggested as a potential candidate is confirmation that sirius believes him to be the spy - and possibly also that james is beginning to think his best friend might be onto something [i always wonder if remus’ bitterness when accusing james of being too trusting in deathly hallows is a flash of self-loathing about the fact that james didn’t trust him]. sirius then persuades james to use peter and, within a week of the charm being performed, james and lily are dead, peter has disappeared, and sirius is in azkaban.

[as an aside here, i don’t love the amount of dumbledore bashing in wolfstar, and i think it’s worth doing some dumbledore defence: sirius’ internment in azkaban without trial - a reference to an actual historical event, if you were thinking it sounded far-fetched - is not dumbledore’s fault. the wizengamot acts on dumbledore’s credible belief that sirius was the secret keeper, while sirius - who is cackling his head off the whole time - refuses to speak in his own defence. similarly, dumbledore does not deny sirius access to harry (via hagrid) when he arrives, distraught, in godric’s hollow because he’s contrived a machiavellian plan to keep harry alone and unloved with the dursleys instead of with his true family, but because all the evidence he has available to him is that harry’s life is in danger at sirius’ hands.]

so sirius spends the next twelve years in azkaban, with remus clearly nowhere near his mind. that he stays in prison, and only escapes when he has an unimpeachable chance to get his revenge and protect harry, is because he - like his narrative mirror, snape - is so haunted by his role [indirect, but he canonically thinks that he essentially cast the killing curse himself] in the death of someone he fiercely loved that he considers azkaban a punishment he deserves.

this links to the next issue i have with a lot of wolfstar: that the defining force in both remus and sirius’ lives is james, not each other.

the dynamic of the marauders is frequently reduced to the following: wolfstar, who are best friends and lovers it would take the heat-death of the universe to pull apart; james and whichever romantic partner the story wishes to pair him with, who are the same; and peter, who is either there and completely futile, or is replaced with a fanonised female character [dorcas, marlene, alice etc. - none of whom, may i say, it makes sense to have in the same school year as the marauders, dumbledore is not actually running the order as a gang of child soldiers] or a woobiefied death eater [regulus black, barty crouch jr., evan rosier etc.].

but in canon, a different dynamic is clear. james is the lynchpin of the marauders’ world, the anchoring point to all their senses of self; and the moment he is out of the picture no bonds of loyalty remain among the other three. [it’s tempting to imagine that remus always harbours a belief that sirius is innocent, but i think that this would be less due to an unconditional affection for his friend and more due to the fact that his own self-loathing needs to believe that he couldn’t have stopped james and lily dying; which he should have done if sirius really was the culprit, since he clearly suspected he was a death eater].

if you asked remus, sirius, and peter, clearly each of them would describe james as their best friend [even though james’ eyes are only for sirius - he only has one best man, and harry only has one godfather], but their relationships with each other outside of james are less clearly defined, at least before sirius and remus are the only two left.

this doesn’t prevent pre-1981 [or james lives au] wolfstar - your boyfriend and your best friend being different people is fine, obviously - but it is going to change the dynamic between them in ways i think are significant and which i would like to see explored more, particularly in fics which acknowledge that - for remus and sirius - this dynamic might not lead to the healthiest relationship…

for example, during their schooldays, wolfstar are likely to talk to each other through james, rather than james being surplus to the flirtatious dynamic between them; remus is likely to feel awkward or insecure about the fact that sirius - whose personality is closer to james’ than his - is so happy and gregarious in james’ company; sirius is likely to resent remus’ tendency to stay out of the action, since the fact that he and james mutually encourage each other in their exploits is key to their relationship; remus is likely to resent the fact that sirius is treated by the potters as a second son, while he isn’t, and so on.

during the first war, even if we remove the fact they suspect each other of spying from the equation, they will clash over how to protect james - and remus will undoubtedly take this to mean that sirius cares more for james than for him. during the second war, the long shadow of james - so painful that remus can still barely talk about him, while sirius wants to do nothing but - will hover over everything.

and this leads on to the third reason i generally don’t enjoy wolfstar: that the complicated threads of their canon personalities are removed or reduced to irrelevance to make them fit fanon which has no basis in the books.

now, i’m not going to get into appearance discourse here, although yes, i prefer a tall sirius who tends to wear wizarding clothing and has never heard a single cool piece of muggle music in his life, and i prefer a hollowed and world-weary remus who doesn’t have visible scars. i think background discourse is slightly more important: a great deal of sirius is lost if he is turned into someone who likes being pureblood, who feels more comfortable around his "own kind", or who aspires to sit on the hereditary wizengamot; a great deal of remus is lost if he is turned into someone who didn’t grow up in a loving home with parents who did their best, but whose inability to give him the childhood he really deserved in the face of the prejudice against werewolves in the wizarding world encouraged his absurd gratitude towards anyone who made even a half-hearted effort to act in his interests.

all of my preferred aspects of characterisation are canon-compliant. but deviating from canon is not a moral failing. the term is more flexible than many of its defenders acknowledge, and people are at perfect liberty to imagine that characters look, identify, or behave differently than they do in the canon narrative without that automatically bringing accusations of writing them out-of-character [after all, it’s clear in the books that both harry and hermione are white, but art and fics which portray them as a different race can still meaningfully be described as canon-compliant if that's an aim they're written to have].

similarly, rejecting canon compliance entirely is just as fine - i think you should indicate to your readers if you’re doing that, but i’m capable of using the back button and moving on with my life if you don’t.

the only hard and fast rule is don’t seek out people who do things differently to you and insult them directly, although i would also suggest that it’s worthwhile to spend a bit of time in introspection about how lots of popular wolfstar and the fandom around it - like the fandom around all slash ships - portrays queerness in ways which are heteronormative [i.e. exclusively equating bottoming with femininity] and portrays women in ways which are misogynistic [i.e. how tonks is often treated in wolfstar discourse].

however, with this said, i think there is a difference between rejecting canon compliance and yet still writing the characters in ways which feel connected in interesting ways to their complex canon selves, and just writing original characters named sirius black and remus lupin.

because i just cannot get on board with a remus who is written as the cleverest one of the four, as assertive and direct instead of avoidant and passive-aggressive, as anything other than incredibly selfish, as anything other than an extreme people-pleaser, as being soft and sensitive [his mild manner hides the fact that he is incredibly cold and calculating - this is a man who is prepared to execute wormtail in front of three children mere minutes after learning he’s still alive], as majorly regretting the snape-versus-werewolf incident [he loves it! snape is terrified of him! he downplays it constantly!], or as functioning as the moral heart of the marauders [when sirius says in order of the phoenix that remus tried to restrain their bullying of snape, he is doing it to make remus - who is incapable of self-criticism - feel better in the face of harry’s anger] when he is in fact quite morally cowardly.

and i cannot get on board with a sirius who is written as a goofy himbo, as a constant flirt and womaniser [more grey-ace sirius, i would like to see it], as the world’s wokest king [a man who’s upset his slave isn’t sufficiently deferential to him isn’t someone who’s going to speak in queer theory buzzwords - this, of course, doesn’t prevent sirius being written as queer, non-binary, trans, femme, and so on, it just means that authors have to deal with the fact that sirius’ way of existing as any of these things will be human, rather than perfect], as a small bean unable to take care of himself [he escapes from prison and swims across the north sea! he charges into danger at the drop of a hat!], as anything other than incandescently loyal to james and harry, as - after james’ death - anything other than completely wrecked by guilt over the fact he caused it, as best friends with his brother and his gang of slytherins, or as lacking the fundamental arrogance and cruelty which make him so interesting.

and wolfstar can work, absolutely, when these things are taken into account. i find the idea of second war remus and sirius, stuck in grimmauld place together, buying harry a joint christmas present, the last survivors in a generation completely hollowed out by loss, incredibly moving. remus' choice to self-destruct in half-blood prince - having lost sirius so soon after having found him again - does, i think, justifiably indicate a change in their relationship during order of the phoenix which can be seen as romantic. i find the idea of first war remus and sirius, each in love with a man they think is a spy, wonderfully bittersweet. i find the idea of school-aged remus pining desperately for a friend who is head-over-heels in love with james to be, quite frankly, canon.

and i also think that two original characters called sirius black and remus lupin can do whatever they want - i’ll just be closing my eyes, pretending i cannot see, and leaving them to it.

#asks answered #asenora's opinions on ships #wolfstar #sirius black #remus lupin #i am once again in danger

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anonymoushouseplantfan · 1 year ago

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I need to review their 2022 press and figure out when they likely broke up.

My theory is they had problems since the Jubilee but the actual split was in December 2022.

It starts with The Cut interview for me. I think Harry probably started acting out that spring/early summer. There’s a quote in the article that Meghan talked about how she didn’t sign a NDA and there would come a time when she would talk, but not now. Many thought it was a threat to the BRF but I think it was a threat to Harry - do as I want or I’m going to tell everything.

I think it worked and Harry behaved for a bit but it completely collapsed when The Queen died and they were stuck in the UK for 2-3 weeks together in Frogmore. Remember, we know they watch the news and read the internet, and they were completely absent from most of the coverage concerning The late Queen. It was all exclusively about The late Queen, Charles, and William. And when they were mentioned, it was in the context of all their issues, lies, and misbehavior. And because we know they’re obsessed with the media, we also know that they know Meghan was “candled” and probably all the memes about it.

That’s when they split, IMO. Harry missed the family, Meghan hated being ostracized. Then came the Kerry Kennedy awards in NYC. There was some kind of PR over Meghan’s appearance at the awards ceremony that made it very clear she was angry about some kind of negotiations that weren’t going well. (I have to go back and check what the actual details are.) I fully suspect that Harry wasn’t supposed to be there with Meghan. The bystander/eyewitness reports of their arrival confirm it - the couple didn’t speak to each other or interact/engage with each other until they were in front of the cameras, then they became lovey-dovey in their usual over-the-top kind of way.

Because immediately after the Kerry Kennedy awards, we started getting separate/solo PR for both of them: Meghan wasn’t at any of Harry’s Spare interviews, only Meghan got the WME contract, Prince and Princess titles for the kids (which I suspect is a divorce negotiation), Frogmore “eviction,” only Harry at the coronation, and Meghan started solo papwalking again.

I agree that there were having issues by the time of the Queen’s funeral. I think Meghan was very upset about it being able to go to Scotland. After all, she named her daughter after QEII and then she wasn’t allowed to travel up. It makes her look kind of ridiculous (her own doing, of course).

And she looked weirdly emotional during the funeral (and there was that one single tear). I agree with you, that wasn’t about the Queen. That was aimed at Harry.

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brf-rumortrackinganon · 4 months ago

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I saw a picture of Harry and Meghan kissing and I already saw some people be like “why are they kissing, they’re so unprofessional. It’s all an act. Charles and Diana kissed all the time and look how that turned out”.

And I’m sorry for leaving this on your ask box when you haven’t spoken about it. But I guess you might have an insight about how other public couples act? I think it’s not unusual for public couples to kiss. I know there are photos of King Felipe and Queen Letizia out there kissing in public. I’m not sure about other royal couples. The fact of the matter is this whole “don’t show PDA to be professional” is just a William and Kate thing (and it’s exaggerated anyway because I do think William and Kate are very sweet with each other and do show PDA). But William and Kate would never kiss like this and I honestly just think it’s because a.) they’re naturally shy (the way they blushed when they kissed on the balcony during their wedding day) and b.) they’re literally victims of sexual harrassment by papparazzi and knowing how private they are, that probably affected them how comfortable they are acting in the public, idk. Harry and Meghan being comfortable kissing in a public setting doesn’t mean they’re putting on a show or it’s a sign they’re divorcing.

Sorry anon, I don’t really care about people kissing or showing PDA in public. It’s not something I pay attention to so I don’t have an analysis for you.

As long as the couple isn’t making out or groping each other, who cares?

PDA - including kissing - is not professional in any arena. Kisses in public to welcome people (as is custom in the UK) is fine and not what I’m talking about here.

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hlficlibrary · 1 year ago

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hi can you recommend me stories were they’re parting and have a drunken hookup and then afterwards it gets complicated (for example both act like they don’t remember or something like that)

Hi, anon! Here are a few that I think fit what you're looking for! If you'd like a longer rec, check out the "Suggestion Box" on the pinned post!

Know a Trick or Two by @sadaveniren

The night before Louis is scheduled for a Portkey to begin training with the Vratsa Vultures in Bulgaria he heads into Muggle London for one last night of fun. A few months later he finds out he’s having a child.

Eleven years ago Harry had a one night stand and now there’s a strange man on his doorstep telling him his daughter is something called a wizard and she’s got a place at the British wizarding school Hogwarts.

Aka the one where Muggle Harry and Wizard Louis have a one night stand and get more than they bargained out of it.

Every Lover's Got A Little Dagger In Their Hand by ishiplouis / @pocketsunshineharry

Harry Styles’, marriage counselor extraordinaire, has helped many couples rekindle their love and mend their relationships. Unfortunately, his own love life is in shambles. Cue one Louis Tomlinson, cutthroat divorce attorney, charming, infuriating, sarcastic and all around the bane of Harry’s existence. Too bad his office is right across from Harry’s new office, and they cross paths almost daily. Oh! Let's not forget… he is also Harry’s one-night stand from hell!

Does the attraction between two complete opposites really exist, or is it just a myth?

You're the Light by @allwaswell16

Before beginning a new graduate school in the fall, Louis Tomlinson decides to spend the summer working in Chicago as an editor’s assistant for the Chicago Tribune newspaper and staying with his old college roommate. What he finds on his first day of work is a tall, gorgeous editor named Harry who has the most beautiful green eyes he’s ever seen—and who also happens to be his new boss.

#ask #anon #ficrec

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hello-nichya-here · 3 years ago

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How NOT to write romance - How I Met Your Mother edition

Warning: long-ass post and lots of bitterness over a TV show that ended nearly eight years ago.

Basics for story-telling

If the romance you want to write is dysfunctional, fucking embrace it and have fun with the concept instead of pretending the bad shit the characters do is okay because “it’s true love”

Acknowledgde that your main character has flaws instead of acting like he is a saint who can do no wrong for no reason other than “he is the main character. Definitively don’t make him do, of his own free will, the exact exact same things the supposedly “selfish and cruel” womanizer does and then excuse it as him having “succumbed to/been tricked by a bad influece” like he’s child who doesn’t know any better instead of being a grown ass adult.

Don’t make your characters be annoying, entitled fuckers who think they have the right to judge others for wanting different things out of a relationship/not wanting a relationship at all. Don’t act like monogamy, double dates with other couples, marriage and children are something EVERYONE secretly wants deep down.

Don’t demonize the “evil” character of the group and act like the “heroes” being appalled by the shit he does is anything other than hypocricy. There’s literally nothing forcing them to be friends with him, so they’re obviously not as horrified at bad shit he does as they say they are, otherwise they would have ditched him a long time ago.

Don’t have the “heartless womanizer”, who we later find out is the ex-husband of the girl the lead wanted for himself, be shown to us exclusively through the eyes of the an unreliable narrator who had motivation to make him see worse than he is likely to be (get his kids to want him to get the girl instead of the “douchebag”). Also, don’t make his schemes to trick women into sleeping with them so completely absurd and ridiculous that the audience is pretty sure that 70% of the women he banged were completely aware he just wanted a quick fuck and went along with it anyway because they wanted some dick (and because the character is played by Neil Patric Harris, who is incapable of not being charismatic)

Fucking let you characters (especially the supposed hero we’re supposed to think is the best boyfriend ever) grow instead of making them constantly repeat the same mistakes

Lily and Marshall

Don’t make one of the characters hide something very important from their partner, and then have the audacity to be mad at them for “just not understanding” as if they were given any reason to understand what the problem even is

Don’t act like someone being heartbroken that their partner lied to them and practically made a plan to “escape” being married to them means they’re not being “supportive” of said partners dream - you should especially not do that after we were shown that they took a job they didn’t like just to make sure they’d have a secure future that would allow said partner to follow their dream.

Don’t have the character who was obviously in the wrong need to be convinced to get their shit together and apologize to their ex.

If a character forgave the ex who wronged them and even got back together with them, don’t have them constantly hold their past mistakes over their head like it that problem has not already been solved - you especially not make them do that on what was supposed to be their wedding day. They can either forgive their partner or not, they can’t keep going back and forth.

Don’t have them constantly hide important shit from each other (having a huge financial debt, getting a job, etc)

DO NOT have the character who fucked up years prior suddenly be willing to do the same shit again for the EXACT same reason (”I think our relationship is in the way of my dreams and I’m now completely isolated because I refuse to talk things out with you”) and then expect the audience to sympathize with them.

Ted and Robin

Unless you’re writing a Disney/Disney-esque romance, don’t have your lead just look at someone across the room, decide they’re “The one”, imagine their life together and full on say “I’m love with you” AND “I love you” on the first goddamn date.

Don’t have the lead stalk his love interest, and throw three parties in a row just to have an excuse to get close to her now that she made it clear she is not interested in having a relationship with him.

Don’t have the “hero” lie about having broken up with his girlfriend so the girl he wants to be with will sleep with him, and then have him blame his actions on time. “Nothing good happens after 2 a.m.” Grow a pair of balls, Ted!

If one of the characters says “You’re going too fast on the whole ‘love’ thing. Can’t we just go on a few dates and see what happens instead of already starting to plan our lives together?” and the others throws a fit, that is called “being incompatible” and “damn, this dude doesn’t respect boundaries”, not “Wow, she’s so afraid of commitment”

If you want the audience to believe the main character’s feelings are not one-sided, don’t make the fact that said feelings ARE unrequited a running joke, and don’t have the girl only accept giving him a chance after having to deal with the fucker whining “But I love you” for months and/or after going through bad break ups. Also, if you have to retcon half the fucking show to “proove” that “she DOES love him”, that pairing fucking sucks.

Don’t compare the couple you want the audience to root for to the main character’s divorced, dysfunctional parents, and don’t have flashbacks showing that the lead had no clue what his girlfriend actually liked in bed AND that she literally covered up his face so she could pretend she was fucking someone else.

DON’T MAKE HER GET RID OF HER DOGS, YOU FUCKING MONSTER!

If your lead character is still jealous/possessive of his ex, thinks he still has a chance even after she told him to his face that she didn’t love him, and acts like she and her fiance (who he says is his friend) being happy is somehow them being selfish and cruel, your lead character is a loser AND an asshole.

Don’t throw away the entire premise of the show (Ted finding the REAL love of his life) just to force a bad pairing down the audience’s throat

Ted Mosby in general

Don’t have your “romantic, sensitive hero” break up with a girl on her birthday through an answering machine, come back into her life without warning years later because he’s afraid he’ll die alone, and find out that she never heard the message but was actually told about it by her friends and family who were at her apartment preparing a surprise party for her. You should especially not make his first reaction to this new be being mad that he was not invited to the party, and for the love of God, don’t make him break up with her on her birthday AGAIN.

Don’t have the “hero” cheat on his girlfriend and excuse it with bullshit like “Nothing good happens 2 a.m.” and “But I genuinely love Robin so it’s okay that I’m lying to both of them”. Do not, I repeat, do NOT have him blame it on his girlfriend being distant when she didn’t pick up the phone one night and then called back the second she was free to do so, while he was enjoying the gifts she sent him and LIED to her about having sent her some as well.

Don’t fucking make an entire episode with the premise of him turning a no into a yes - and telling that story to his children like it’s romantic.

Don’t have his fiance, who he knows has a rocky relationship with the father of her daughter, tell him she is uncomfortable with him inviting his ex to their wedding and then have him decide “This means I should invite her ex as well”. Also don’t expect me to feel bad for him when she runs off with said ex.

Don’t have him spend YEARS waiting for one of the hundreds of girls he thinks is “the one” to be single and even ask her neighbour to spy on her and let him know when/if she breaks up with her boyfriend - again, for YEARS.

Don’t have the lead say he’s gonna tell their kids about his love story with their DECEASED mother, only for it to secretly be an excuse for him to go “By the way, I’m still in love with aunt Robin despite her having rejected me for 25 years, can I go screw her?”

Don’t act like making the characters reverse back into who they were at the beginning at the story means they’re gonna make things work this time when the whole point of their break up in the beginning on the story was the fact that they’re just not right for each other.

Robin and Kevin

A therapist who was supposed to help their patient move on after a bad break up that messed them up, dating said patient is a major red flag. It is also a bad sign that, when she cheats on him and wants to break up, he realized what she was doing to used his job as “evidence” that he knew better and that she should NOT tell her partner how she felt/what she actually wanted.

Do NOT have said therapist date yet ANOTHER patient that asked him help to move on from a bad break up. Seriously, Kevin was a creep, stop acting like he was some angel who “deserved better than Robin.”

BONUS: How NOT to break up a couple - Barney and Robin edition

Don’t act like their relationship falling appart after their friends kept meddling, and even kept them locked in a room against their will until they labeled their relationship as something they aproved of, is somehow “proof” that they’re not good for each other.

Don’t retcon their relationship to force a break up (seriously, Barney was super supportive of Robin long before he even fell in love with her, but I’m supposed to believe he’d be a bad boyfriend who is never there for her? And he loved advantures and always said “challenge accepted”, but was suddenly miserable travelling the world with her and couldn’t deal with not having wi-fi at the hotel? Fuck off)

Don’t spend an entire season focusing on their wedding, have them get married and then divorce THE NEXT FUCKING EPISODE! Why do you hate your audience? Even people who don’t want them together can see this a terrible idea.

And most important of all, when people question what the fuck were you thinking, don’t have a meltdown on twitter and say that people who think Barney can change are responsible for Donald Trump being elected, you fucking weirdo, go see a therapist (that isn’t like Kevin)

#how i met your mother #himym finale #swarkles #anti ted and robin #fuck ted mosby #worst finale ever #barney stinson #barney deserved better #robin deserved better #they deserved better #i deserved better

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coldflasher · 3 years ago

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thinking about that post from the other day that’s like “these two characters are canonically sworn enemies and i’ve decided it’s because they were married, it fell apart and the divorce was MESSY” and now i have a headcanon that when cisco met harry and spent the entire day following him around and trying to vibe him, he ended up getting a highlight reel of their entire relationship, all the way from their first date (if you could even call it that) to their eventual bloody divorce, which involved a long, drawn-out custody battle that harry somehow won. custody of what, you may ask? all cisco’s star wars merch. ALL OF IT. harry doesn’t even like star wars, he actually prefers star trek (in cisco’s mind, this is a divorceable offence in itself) but he wanted to hit cisco where it hurt and by god did he do it. he took E V E R Y T H I N G.

so now we cut back to 2016. cisco has only known this man for all of five minutes, he does not trust him as far as he can throw him, especially cos he has the face of the guy who killed cisco in a parallel universe, but he also has crystal clear memories of their entire ten-year relationship, especially the parts where harry was a huge dick (which honestly was most of the time). so he immediately develops a huge vendetta against harry based on a ten-year relationship that only actually happened in his head, and which will now never happen in reality because cisco is not touching that with a ten foot pole now he knows how it turns out. this is why they started acting like a bitchy old married couple almost immediately; cisco started it out of sheer habit and harry just goes with it. before you know it they’re arguing over some weird couple shit like how harry never took out the trash or some annoying habit he had and harry’s like “GOD WILL YOU LET THIS GO, RAMON, IT’S BEEN TEN YEARS” meanwhile everyone else is like “uhhh guys, you know you’re not actually divorced, right”

#harrisco #my headcanons

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celestialrry · 4 years ago

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a little jealousy never hurt anybody, right?

6.7k

HIIHIHI this was requested by the lovely @angelsuestyles (their ask is in my recent posts!) ALSOOOO THANK YOU FOR 222 BILLION FOLLOWERS (∩˃o˂∩)♡ (not really but 222 :0 !!! I love all of you guys!! thank you, it literally means so much to me <<<<<333333)

edit: I forgot to put this in here when I first posted but this IN NO WAY is hating on Camille at all (she's literally so hot PLS! she just inspired harry’s 2nd album so she worked for the story) and you guys shouldn’t hate on her either!!!

summary: Y/N and Harry are idiots.

warnings: cursing, mentions of alcohol and illusions to a boner ¨̮ ( I think that’s it...)

Y/N regrets quite a few things.

Like that time when she took her senior photo and didn’t realize the small bit of concealer she had blended under her eyes would flash back so much. Or when she was being introduced to a set of twins and even though she had been completely sober that night, accidentally ended up kissing the both of them, not realizing who was who (she didn’t even remember who she wanted to kiss in the first place). And of course, she regrets somehow being able to put a check in one of those super specific love-cliche boxes.

It really wasn’t her fault for falling for Harry. How could she not? Ever since he asked her to join him on his sophomore tour after she played some guitar for his album, she knew there was no way to crawl out of the hole that had just been dug. All thanks to her her friend Sarah, who introduced the two at her intimate birthday party, just months before Harry started producing and writing for Fine Line.

When an “Oh, shit! You’ll have t’show me sometime!” erupted from Harry after Sarah mentioned Y/N played guitar and even partnered with Mitch on a few projects of his own (that unfortunately, not even after Y/N’s begging, would never be released to the world), Y/N was sure that she would never end up showing Harry, and he was just being sweet. But when a few days later, Harry texted her explaining how he got her number from Sarah and asking if she could get together so he could hear her play, Y/N realized he had been serious, and well, the rest was history.

Harry had insisted she play for a track, then one became a few, then a few became practically the entire album, and soon Harry was talking about how “sick” it would be if she went on tour with them, and after arranging things with her uni and taking a leave from her job, she was ready.

Tour had no shortage of interesting moments, from the time Harry almost broke his ankle during rehearsal and tripping on the microphone wire (why he insisted it have a wire, Y/N had no idea) to Mitch getting really drunk after one show and blabbering on and on about British culture and how different it was from American culture, and YN was sure she’d never seen or heard him talk this much, but no one was complaining.

Y/N had found some sort of companionship in everyone on tour. Sarah had always been like a big sister to her, and the protective instinct really kicked in when they were in a different country, Y/N noticed. Charlotte was pretty new, just like Y/N was and they bonded quite fast over that, and their love for fashion they could never afford. Adam was more open and bubbly, and he took Y/N in like one of his own kids. She truly didn’t think being 23 was so different than everyone else being in their late 20′s and early 30′s but after being treated like a fragile puppy, she noticed that no one else felt the same as her-- she really wasn’t complaining though, it just meant she had all eyes looking out for her, and she kind of needed that to be honest.

Mitch practically became her older brother, and although he was a bit closed off and shy when they first met (which was a few weeks before Y/N met Harry) eventually he was joking around with just her, and teaching her new things on the electric guitar she hadn’t known before.

Finally, Harry. It would be an understatement to say Y/N and Harry got really close, really fast. He was always really good at making friends, but with Y/N it seemed they became great friends in a heartbeat. He opened up about almost everything, fame, missing home, his heartbreaks, his accomplishments, and everything in-between. Y/N did the same, told him how paying for uni was an absolute bitch (to which he offered to pay and she immediately turned him down), how her parent’s divorce impacted her own relationships (Harry had nodded in agreement with that), and about how being on this tour changed her life. By week 2 of tour, the two had become so close, even the fans had picked up on it just during their banter and contact during shows.

“They’re ‘shipping’ you guys,” Mitch had said, taking a sip of water backstage as everyone was gathered in the band’s dressing room. Harry was still getting dressed and ready, so it was everyone but him. “It’s quite cute, honestly.”

Y/N’s brow raised in confusion. “What- why? We act normal like we always do.” She pointed out, firm in her statement. A snort from Charlotte made Y/N turn her head to the strawberry-blonde and gape. “What? Do we- do we not act normal?” She asked, looking around at everyone, now flushing out of embarrassment. “You two act like you’re dating sometimes, love,” Sarah pointed out. “It’s nothing to worry about though, he’s just really affectionate, friends or partners, and we can tell you do too, so it’s inevitable that someone will mistake you guys for a couple.”

“Mistake who for a couple?” A familiar voice asked, and everyone’s gaze wandered over to the door where Harry had walked in with his billowing dress shirt, and dress pants for the night. “You and Y/N.” Adam said, and Y/N’s head had snapped towards him to give him a death stare, but before her eyes could burn into his skull, her attention was dragged away by an arm draping across her shoulders and the dip of the couch next to her. She turned to look at him, and he gave her a soft smiled before squeezing her shoulder with his hand. “Makes sense, s’like we’re practically married.”

“I’m waiting on a proposal.” Y/N said with a grin, and Harry smirked, pulling her in closer towards his body. “You’ll get one soon, pet, don’t worry.” The conversation had then shifted to Mitch and Sarah who were literally work-wife and husband, not yet anyways, but everyone knew he would ask her soon enough. Y/N always like this before shows, happy. Not that preforming and the adrenaline rush afterwards wasn’t enough, but everyone was always together, and she liked that a lot.

She also liked how Harry’s arm had slid down from her shoulders to her waist and how his fingers splayed across her hip, how they gently squeezed, and how his thumb mindlessly ran up down across her skin. It wasn’t an overstatement to say that stayed on her mind the entire night.

。:°ஐ

Harry was always positively buzzing after a show. His narcissistic side loved it when everyone’s attention was on him for hours at a time, screaming his name and shouting their declarations of love. He loved to be told how talented he was, how handsome he was, and how funny he was, it was safe to say he had a bit of a praise kink, if he’s being honest. But if it was even possible, he loved hearing it all from Y/N even more than the thousands of people in the crowd. He told himself many times that it was just because she cared about him, and he cared about her, and hearing praise from someone he knows and respects (not that he didn’t respect his fans) was just so much more fulfilling.

So after every show when he’d rush offstage with he rest of his band, his attention always went to Y/N, waiting for her praise, and he always got it. He, of course, complimented her back, and watching her smile was more than enough to keep him happy the rest of the night. This night had gone the same as all the others, an amazing show, running offstage, and hugs and kisses being thrown around like a beach ball at a rave. “That was awesome H, your whale seems to get better every time.” Y/N had commented, and he had attempted helplessly to keep his cheeks from flushing. “I’ve just got strong lungs, pet. Could never compare to your guitar playing though, the real star of the show. Don’t tell Mitch I said that.”

She waved off his compliment and laughed, pulling him into a soft hug with a soft kiss on the cheek that he was still thinking about when they made their way to a bar for the night. He couldn’t take it off of his mind, not even when there was a pretty blonde in front of him, her hand running flirtatiously over his arm and her smile as blinding as the sun had been earlier.

Of course she was pretty, there was no way to deny it, she just wasn’t as pretty as Y/N. No one was, not after he’d laid eyes on her and began using her beauty to determine everyone else’s attractiveness.

So when his attention from the woman in front of him fades, he’s looking around for the familiar face that he can’t enough of. He meets Y/N’s eyes and immediately her own dart back to Charlotte, biting the inside of her cheek and praying he didn’t catch her staring at him with envy.

Envy of the girl in front of him, who go to express her attraction towards Harry without hiding it, and not worrying about if he feels the same way or not, because of course he finds the girl in front of him attractive, who wouldn’t?

It’s then, that Y/N starts to pity herself, physically and romantically. The partners she’s had before always seemed way too good for her, and she had never been the one to end it. To say that destroyed her self-confidence in the long run would be an understatement.

It wasn’t like she needed a partner to make her confident, no, she was perfectly capable of doing that on her own, but for the first time in a long, long time, Harry made Y/N feel really good about herself. Good about her personality, her humor, everything, because if someone she looked up to that much, if a man like Harry Styles wants to be friends with her? She thinks it just meant she was doing everything right.

So Y/N, in short, was jealous. So jealous and wound up by Harry showing attraction towards that girl, that everyone else seemed to notice she was a bit off. “Y/N, you okay?” Mitch asked from across the booth, his thick brows twisted in concern. “Hm?” She looked up from the wooden table beneath her to see everyone, sans Harry, looking at her with the most pitiful eyes she had ever seen, and god, did she feel disgusted. Disgusted that she had fallen so hard for a man she could never have, that everyone around her noticed and felt bad for her.

“I’m fine, but I think m’gonna call it a night. I’m pretty tired after today’s show.” She said with a tight-lipped smile, hoping it would convince everyone that she was okay. Of course it didn’t though and Adam caught on. “Funny, I was about to say the same. I can’t stay up late like I used to anymore, wanna catch a taxi back?” He asked, and Y/N nodded with a real smile this time, albeit the fact it was small, because she really didn’t want to go back to the hotel alone, and Adam always knew what to say.

Sarah and Mitch slid out of the booth to let Adam out, and Y/N simply stood up on her side because she had the outside seat. Harry was supposed to sit next to her on the edge, but seeing as he went to the bar to grab everyone another round and then ended up talking to someone else, that didn’t happen. She slipped on her light beige coat and grabbed her purse, slinging it on her shoulder as Adam put on his jacket as well. When Y/N looked to the bar where she had last seen Harry, he was still standing there animately talking to the woman in front of him, dimples prominent in his rosy cheeks, and all she could do was hope he didn’t notice the two of them slip out as they made their way to the door.

Alas, Y/N could never be that lucky.

“Hey! Where are y’guys going?”

Y/N and Adam turned around at the sound of his voice and that was when Adam went in full protective mode, slinging his arm around Y/N’s shoulders and pulling her in closer. She made a note in her head to thank him immensely when they escaped this bar.

“Heading out for the night, we’re both pretty pooped.” Adam explained, eyes darting from Y/N to Harry who now stood in front of them, his own eyes darting from Y/N to Adam then back to the girl who was now avoiding eye contact at all costs.

“Oh, alright then. Are- Y/N are you okay?” He asked softly and only then did her eyes meet his own. “Yes, I’m fine. I feel like such a baby when I’m around you guys.” She joked, her lips curling into a small smile.

Adam chuckled at that and so did Harry, but Y/N could tell the curly headed one was still concerned. “Well we gotta catch a cab, so…” She trailed off, her thumb poking back to the door.

“O-okay,” Harry nodded. “Get back safe, yeah? Have a good night.” He said in parting and Y/N and Adam both nodded, wishing him the same before turning back around and pushing through the door. Harry watched the two of them leave, and his stomach bounced around in an odd way.

The cold air whipped across the duo’s faces, and and Adam rubbed Y/N’s shoulder comfortingly as he hailed a cab. They didn’t talk until they were settled in the back and Adam told the driver the destination. “Wanna tell me what’s up? Cause I’m not gonna bother you anymore when we get to the hotel.”

She smiled at him and scoffed a bit before trilling her lips, a soft noise releasing from her mouth at the movement. “Um,” She began, running her hands through her hair. “I’m pretty sure you already know.”

At her words, Adam just raised a brow at her. “What? You guys all looked at me like someone just killed my puppy back there!” She defended, raising her hands. “Okay, fine, fine. It won’t help if you keep all your emotions bottled in though, you know?”

“Yeah,” She sighed. “I know.”

After getting back up to her room, doing her nightly routine (which really was just her washing her face, brushing her teeth, and changing into the t-shirt Harry gave her a few weeks ago and her Spongebob decorated fluffy pajama shorts that she got in college as a joke but really ended up being her favorite item of clothing she owned, other than Harry’s shirt, of course) she slipped into bed and began scrolling on her phone.

Only what felt like 15 minutes later, a knock on her door broke Y/N out of the trance she was in and she sighed a bit, pulling the covers back and grumbling as she made her way to the door, annoyed at whoever was behind it-oh.

Harry looked at her as she swung the door open for him and he immediately grinned. “Hi, love.”She could never stay mad at him. “Hey, H.” She smiled at him, still a bit confused. “What’s up?” He ran a hand thorough his hair and retained eye contact with her, before speaking.

“Sleepover?”

She nodded and let him in, and immediately he went to her suitcase without a word, pulling out some her biggest sweatpants and stripping to his boxers, slipping the joggers on and keeping his shirt off. Y/N suddenly was reminded of all of Harry’s tattoos she knew none of the meanings behind.

Sleepovers were common with the two of them, and they always occurred in Harry’s suite, Y/N on the way too comfortable couch, and Harry guiltily on the bed even though she insisted she take the couch because “We can’t have your back hurting when you preform!” And he couldn’t say no when she also said “Please?” and looked at him with those soft eyes.

So now it was a bit different, being in her room, because 1, there was only one bed that they would both consequently end up sleeping on, and 2, Y/N and Harry’s feelings had both developed a bit further than friendly (although neither knew about the other’s).

She hesitantly crawled back into her bed and patted at the area right beside her, which Harry quickly traveled over to, lifting his side of the comforter and pulling it over the both of them while Y/N leaned over to the night-stand and grabbed the T.V. remote. She plopped back into the pillows and started scrolling through random channels, trying to find a decent movie for the two of them to fall asleep to.

All the while, Harry was attempting to look at the T.V. but the light was shining on her face in a way that just made her look so pretty, not that she wasn’t always pretty, but she seemed to always look the best when she was in her natural state, no makeup, no nice clothes, it was just all so domestic and the feeling overwhelmed him when he realized he wanted to be the one to see her like this every night.

Her eyes darted from the T.V. over to her right where Harry was curled up in the covers, and she could feel the burn of his eyes on her. Now that really didn’t help with her insecurities, and as she continued switching through the channels she found herself burying under the covers more and more. Soon, she landed on a stupid rom-com that she’s seen a few times before but she never really knows what it’s about because her attention gets easily dragged away from it.

She puts the remote back on the table and flips back around to be face to face with Harry, who was now looking at her with furrowed brows. “Why’re you burying yourself under the covers?” He asked with a frown, and she lulled her head away from him then back, biting the inside of her cheek. “M’just a bit cold.”

His brows raised because he knew full well it wasn’t cold at all in this room, in fact it was quite hot, but he didn’t want to deal with her lying and thinking she could get away with it, so he pulled the covers off of himself, which actually cooled him off a good amount and piled them all on top of her. “Hey!” She cried out, muffled by the fabric on top of her. “M’hot, so I figured you could have my covers.”

He heard a bit of grumbling and the covers were flung off of the bed entirely in a few seconds, Y/N sitting up and leaning on her arms breathing a bit heavy and turning to Harry with a stink in her eye. He just flashed his signature cheeky grin and she grabbed her pillow and hit him over the head before placing it back and pulling the sheets over her body.

“Ow! You fucker.”

。:°ஐ

Harry was sure about a lot of the things he did.

Like when One Direction split up, he didn’t remain in constant contact with the boys, and while it was difficult at first, they all needed a break, and it just made it so much better when they met up to hang out again. Or when him and Camille both decided it was for the best that they break up and they remain friends to this day. And of course, he was sure about bringing Y/N on tour.

She was possibly one of the best people he had ever worked with, and one of the best friends he’s ever had. He was sure about getting close with her, and he was sure about keeping her close. Only, now keeping her close meant keeping her arms length apart, because if he got any closer he wouldn’t be able to handle being with her any closer than a few little touches and hugs and cheek and forehead kisses, not when he couldn’t have her.

So it was safe to say when he opened his eyes the next morning with Y/N flung over him, her leg between his own, her arm wrapped around his chest with her face pressed into the junction of his shoulder and neck, and her warm soft breaths hitting his bare skin, making goosebumps pimple, he freaked out. 1, because friends did NOT cuddle like this, and 2, the close contact was making his chest clench and his lower abdomen heat up.

He let out a shaky breath and thanked his lucky stars Y/N was a deep sleeper, and slowly slid out from under her, ignoring how his arms were wrapped around her and his hands were touching her bare skin where her shirt (his shirt really, and that just made it about a billion times worse) had ridden up in the night. As he was pulling his torso from her body after getting his legs out, she let out a whine and her grip on his back tightened.

His heart beat wildly fast, so fast he wouldn’t be surprised if he looked down and saw it moving through his skin, and he stilled, terrified that she was awake. A few minutes went by, and she didn’t stir anymore, so after chalking her movements up to a dreaming Y/N, he moved a hand and gently took her soft hand off of his bare skin, letting out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

Finally he’s out of bed, and slipping on the clothes he wore the night before, folding the sweats he borrowed and putting them back in her suitcase. He grabs his phone off the other side table Y/N never used and reaches her door, making the terrible mistake of looking back. Y/N’s face is smushed into the pillow he put under her head, her lips sightly open as she slept and her arms now curled around the pillow Harry had used last night, and he would swear on his mum’s life that she was breathing in his scent if not for the fact that he was certain she didn’t like him the way he liked her, and he didn’t want to barter his mum’s life on something so uncertain.

His chest clenched for what felt like the billionth time this morning and even if he didn’t know it then, he had already decided that he couldn’t handle this anymore, whatever this was, and began to push the sleeping girl out of his mind and heart, in order to save himself from future heartbreak.

。:°ஐ

When Y/N woke up, her bed was empty, and she had never felt akin to a bed until that morning.

。:°ஐ

The last time Harry really spoke to Y/N was the night he slept over.

It had been a little over a month since then, and she was trying really hard not to let it get to her, but seeing as Harry interacted just fine with everyone else, and his problem seemed to be with just Y/N, she couldn’t help the nagging feeling that she had somehow scared him off.

A week after he slept over, the only times he spoke to her were for performances and work-related things, and her mind had been swarming with questions. Did she say something about him, or to him while she was sleeping? Sure, she had a dream about him, but it wasn’t anything dirty (although that had happened a few times before), they were just at a carnival and there was a ride in which they got to fly, it was quite fun. Did she cuddle him too much? Sure she could be really touchy when she’s tired, but so can Harry if his wandering hands (only in appropriate places) when they had movie nights were anything to go by.

So her questions went unanswered, and her attempts to speak with him were fruitfully ignored, whether that be he pretends he didn’t hear her the first time, or if he excuses himself before answering because he had to talk to someone about something.

Everyone else in the band noticed, and Y/N didn’t know it, but everyone at tried to talk to Harry about it at least once. Adam mentioned how Y/N and Harry seemed to have drifted apart and Harry only hummed in agreement, making it obvious he didn’t want to talk about it. Charlotte had asked Harry if he was doing okay, to which he responded “Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?” And she didn’t feel like it was her place to tell him that Y/N had come to her crying about Harry’s actions, or lack thereof, towards her and she didn’t know what was wrong. Sarah was blunt with Harry, telling him how it was obvious Y/N and him weren’t speaking and asking what had happened to which Harry shrugged it off and told her that “people grow apart”, and it wasn’t anything personal. Mitch had tried to the same, to no avail, despite being even more blunt than everyone else.

And that led them here, 15 minutes before Harry’s second, and last night in L.A. on his tour before they head to New York. He was quite looking forward to it, excited to see the few friends who couldn’t make it the night before. It was easy, going out with people after the performance, not having to think about Y/N as he drinks the night away.

He looked in the mirror in front of him, patting the invisible dust off of his pearl adorned blazer and pants, the wife-beater under his coat so thin his tattoos could be traced. Usually after he was dressed he would pop into the band’s dressing room just to shake off the nerves beforehand, but he stopped doing that after he began to push himself away from Y/N. There would be no where else to sit but next to her, and that didn’t help his overwhelming need to hold her. So instead, he made his way to the couch in his room, relaxing for the few minutes he had.

Y/N on the other hand was sitting in the dressing room with Sarah, Mitch, Charlotte, and Adam, all conversing about how ready they were, the energy in L.A. the night before had been off the charts, and they were more than excited to feel it again. All Y/N could think about, however, was that this just meant there was one more show to play, then tour would be over, and there would be no more reason to be in Harry’s band. Not when he clearly didn’t want to be friends with her anymore, and she thinks this is the worst she’s ever felt in a long, long time.

。:°ஐ

The first part of the show goes really well. Harry is hyping up the audience, and everyone is smiling. “She” was the next song they were to play after Harry stopped interacting with the audience and Y/N was excited. It was one of her favorite songs to play, and she loved just stopping and listening when Mitch did his solo. He usually did the more detailed guitar work, while Y/N worked with the backing chords.

“Alright, the next song we’ll be playing is “She”, let’s make sure not to get Mitch’s ego too high afterwards though.” Harry had laughed into the mic, walking back to the stand and clicking the mic into place. Then, it began. It was good, it really was, until Y/N noticed that Harry had faltered a bit in the chorus, and her eyes followed his own to the blonde hair in the VIP section. It was her, Camille, the muse behind this entire album. Her heart stuttered as she noticed he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She was gorgeous, prettier than all of the pictures she’s seen.

And Harry was looking only at her in the crowd. It was then, that Y/N started to go a bit haywire. He began to sing the chorus, and she guesses her fingers held the pick a bit tighter, and strummed bit harder, because after 10 seconds of playing she realized she could no longer hear his voice. Almost immediately did she soften the strumming and look up to see Harry turn to face her, confusion and anger, maybe, written all across his face. She ignores it and continues to play until the song is over. She’s not listening when the crowd cheers, but she regrets tuning in when Harry introduces the next song on the set list, how he says that it’s possibly one of his favorites, and meet’s his ex’s eyes when he starts to play Cherry.

It’s then that Y/N breaks. She keeps her eyes down, and her strumming quiet, just incase she falters (which she does about 2 times), and when her mouth moves up to sing the backing vocals she realizes that her eyes are welling up and her throat is closing in. She closes her mouth and continues to play the guitar, missing Harry’s look back at her, and the rest of the band’s attempt to conceal the fact that she had stopped singing in the middle of the verse.

The rest of the show goes on, and her tears are held back when they all wave goodbye, and when they rush offstage, and when Harry’s hand brushes her arm that she’s sure was a mistake (it wasn’t), and they continue to be held back until she bursts into the unisex restroom just a mere 20 feet away from the dressing rooms. She locks herself in a stall and sits on the closed toilet seat, shaking hands covering her face as she chokes on her sobs, knowing she would never be enough for Harry, thinking about how he want’s nothing to do with her, and how big of a mistake she made going on tour with them, because if she didn’t, then she wouldn’t have fallen in love with Harry, and she wouldn’t be feeling this way.

What feels like hours, but was actually just 15 minutes of her crying all the tears she could cry, she decided it was better to mope in her own hotel room rather than in a public place where anyone could walk in. She steps out of the stall and doesn’t bother looking in the mirror, only washes her hands, then rinses her face, patting it dry with a cheap brown paper towel. She crumples it up and tosses it in the trashcan, walking out of the restroom to see Harry outside of his dressing room, his arms wrapped around Camille in an intimate embrace.

Intruding would be a good word to describe how she felt right then, and quickly did she speed walk the other way, trying not to let any more tears fall as she opens the door to the bands dressing room to see Sarah and Mitch packing up her things. One look at her was all it took to break the dam that held her tears, and she covered her mouth with her hand, her head falling down and her other arm wrapping around her stomach, maybe it would make things better.

Sarah quickly hands Mitch Y/N’s bag that held her sweats, sweatshirt, purse, and phone she brought to the venue, and takes the girl into a much needed embrace. She cried into Sarahs chest for a bit, snotty apologies from Y/N that Sarah waved off, insisting it was okay, and that she would be okay.

After calming her down a bit and receiving a hug from Mitch, she takes her bag and walks into one of the privacy divider boxes, changing into the clothes she would wear tomorrow on the flight, and tonight to sleep in. Mitch and Sarah lead her out of the venue with all of their arms locked, and bring her to the car, the hotel, and lastly her room.

“We’re right next door, if you need anything. Are you sure you don’t want us to stay?” Sarah asked, biting her lip in anxiousness. Y/N shook her head, her puffy eyes hurting from the movement. “No, I’m gonna be okay. Thank you- um, can-can you not tell anyone? I just-”

“Of course we won’t tell anyone,” Mitch interrupts her, making sure she won’t start crying again, because if there’s something he wants least, it’s to see her cry. “We’ll see you tomorrow morning, okay?”

Y/N nods, and they all hug and part with declarations of love and goodnight’s.

。:°ஐ

Harry just arrived at the hotel after a quick late dinner with Camille at her flat, catching up and eating some really good Chinese take-out. It was always good seeing her, they weren’t super close anymore of course, she had a new boyfriend now, he was there too actually, a really fine lad that he thinks Camille deserves, but he enjoyed getting to see her with no bad-blood.

So the night was going good, other than Y/N’s weird guitar mishap and her faltering voice during the show, that he couldn’t stop thinking about.

Well, it was going good, until Mitch called him after Harry sent him a text talking about how he was back at the hotel, and told him that he was really stupid. Told Harry that Y/N seemed really hurt earlier, and how he thinks that Harry ignoring her caught up to her. Of course, Mitch knew it was partially untrue, but to remain loyal to Y/N he couldn’t tell Harry why she was so upset, and exactly how upset Y/N really was.

Upon hearing this, Harry’s mood deflated and he rushed to Y/N’s hotel room, knocking a few times with a soft “It’s me, Harry.” through the door. Y/N heard it, but there was no way in hell she would open the door for him, so she feigned sleep and hoped he wouldn’t attempt to wake her up. “Are you awake, love?” No answer. “Pet?” No answer. “Okay, well, I just wanted to talk to you, um, but we can do that tomorrow, I-um, I’m sorry.”

He left, after that, leaving her to curl up in her covers alone, tears leaking from her eyes.

The next morning was anything but fun, they were to wake up at 6 and catch the 7:30 AM flight from L.A. to New York. Of course, everyone one in the band and a few others got first class, while the rest of the crew rode on Harry’s rented private jet, to hold all the equipment that wasn’t provided at the venue.

So this meant that Y/N and Harry would have to be stuck in the same cabin of a plane together for about 5 and a half hours. Luckily they weren’t designated to sit next to each other, but Harry had other plans.

He switched tickets with a hesitant Charlotte and got the aisle seat, where Y/N would have the window seat. He got on first, and got settled in, biting his lip in nerves, he wasn’t really sure how he would be able to explain away all of his actions to her, but he knew that he had to, he didn’t want to loose Y/N.

Y/N stepped onto the plane, flashing a fake smile at the flight attendant who obviously noticed her puffy eyes and frowning face. Her eyes darted from the row number and seat letter to the ones on the top of the cabin, and when she found the matching pair of seats, there he was, in all his sweatpants-sweatshirt covered glory.

Her mouth opened to tell him she didn’t want to sit next to him, but when he looked up at her with a soft smile, all she could do was close her lips and sigh, squeezing past him to plop down in the seat with the window.

He didn’t try to speak to her, and she did the same, but he really wanted to. Wanted to ask her how she was, what she had been doing when they stopped talking (or when he stopped talking to her), if her Mom was still working at the job she wanted to quit or if she finally did it, if she still wanted to get a cat when tour was over, but he just couldn’t.

He had no idea where to even start, does he talk to her, then hope the conversation will lead to a place where he can apologize, or does he just apologize straight up, but have no explanation as to why he hurt her in the first place.

The internal battle lasted until they landed, when they got off the plane, traveled to the hotel, and when they went to their respective suites.

Y/N considered herself lucky that Harry had decided to not speak to her on the flight. That wouldn’t have given her an option to opt out of the conversation, and she knew he was smarter than that. She didn’t know however, that when she opened the door to her hotel room after a hasty knock, expecting another member of the band, that Harry would be standing in front of it, his eyes widened in anxiety.

“Wh-”

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out, interrupting her and walking past her into her room that she hadn’t invited him into. “I’m so sorry for ignoring you, and-and not talking to you when you tried to talk to me. You didn’t deserve it, I’m sorry.”

Her brows raised in surprise and she shut the door behind him, staying near the entrance. As her mouth opened to accept the apology, her mind raced through how she had been feeling the past month and instead she said, “It’s been a fucking month Harry, I-I thought everything was fine, and then one day you just decided to cut me out?”

“I know,” He stepped closer to her, guilt rushing through him. “I know, it was stupid of me, and I shouldn’t have, but I didn’t even know what to say. You wouldn’t even look at me on the flight and I-“

He was interrupted by her walking up and pushing her finger against his chest. “I wouldn’t talk to you?” She scoffed, tears brimming her eyes. “I-what did you expect after you pushed me away for a month, no warning, no reason-”

“Of course I had a reason!” Harry raised his voice, eyes watery as well. “I fucking love you! That’s why, and-and we were getting too close than friends should, and I couldn’t handle not being with you.”

Silence.

“Fuck, Y/N I’m so sorry-mmph!”

His apology was silenced by her lips on his, and his eyes widened as he realized what was happening. They fluttered closed, and his arms wrapped around her torso, while her hands were placed on his cheeks and wowthiswasreallyhappeningandhewasn’tdreamingwashedreamingnohewasn’t-

Y/N pulled away with a deep breath in and laughed a bit, her forehead resting against his. “If you didn’t catch on with that, I love you too.”

Harry laughed and cheekily grinned, pulling her even closer than she was before. “Really? I’m not sure I got it, can you help me understand a bit more?”

She swatted his chest and kissed him once more. “Cheeky bastard.”

#stillcantbelieveharrywonagrammy #stillsadaboutpostponedtour #itswhateverthough #harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #mitch is my favorite person

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traincat · 4 years ago

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I feel like I've read a ton, but I'm honestly still pretty new to comics rn. That being said... What is one more day? Ik we don't like it and it happened a while ago, but that's about it [,=

Time for Spider-Man History With Traincat: Highly Controversial Storylines! And that feeling is totally normal with comics with huge canons -- you can read a ton and still have some fairly big blindspots in your understanding of the total picture. That being said, this is kind of a big one, both in terms of Spider-Man history/canon and in terms of how Spider-Man fandom functions. I would say probably no other storyline has had quite as much impact on how the fandom views and interacts with the source material as One More Day/Brand New Day. It's been the Wild West out here ever since it happened. (Which was in 2007, so like, yes, fairly long ago, especially when you look at how Spider-Man canon has evolved since, but in the grand scheme of things, also kind of recent. One More Day is not old enough to rent a car.)

So when people talk about Spider-Man's One More Day, they're usually actually talking about two related arcs: One More Day and Brand New Day. For the sake of simplicity, I'm going to be covering both. For the sake of transparency, I am going to admit that I think One More Day, as a self-contained story, is good, actually. This is controversial! I admit that! But I stand by my stupid opinions on this blog, for some reason. I think One More Day when you examine it on its own, by which I mean you ignore the decade and a half worth of canon that came after it, as a Spider-Man story and as a PeterMJ-centric story holds up under scrutiny and that people who don't like it don't like complicated love stories and might actually throw their own mothers under buses. No offense to the OMD haters. Little bit of offense to the OMD haters. Brand New Day, which is the continuation of One More Day, on the other hand -- largely bad. Very largely bad.

But let's backtrack. One More Day is a four issue crossover storyline that takes place directly after Civil War, during which Iron Man and Captain America got divorced and divvied up the superhero community and Spider-Man made some startlingly bad decisions and made a fugitive out of himself and his family in a manner that got Aunt May shot, and Spider-Man: Back in Black (Amazing Spider-Man #539–543) which examines Peter's actions immediately after Aunt May is shot and ends with him humiliating the Kingpin in front of an entire prison. One More Day consists of Amazing Spider-Man #544 -> Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man #24 -> Sensational Spider-Man v2 #41 -> Amazing Spider-Man #545. In One More Day, Aunt May is dying, all of Peter's efforts to save her have thus far failed, and, consumed by guilt, he is rapidly running out of time. Approached by Mephisto, a literal demon from hell, Peter is offered a deal: Aunt May will live -- and Peter's identity, which was previously revealed to the world at large during Civil War, will once again be hidden from the memories of all but a select few -- if Peter trades him his marriage to Mary Jane. Peter and Mary Jane struggle with this, but eventually both agree to the deal. The clock strikes twelve, the deal is done, and Peter and Mary Jane's marriage fades into history.

(ASM #545) A reasonably simple premise for a story that caused so many problems -- most, I would argue, not actually the original story's fault. So obviously, this was an unpopular move -- Peter and Mary Jane had for a long time been a fan favorite Marvel couple, and in a fictional universe where most relationships are doomed as soon as they begin, the enduring Spider-Marriage was sacred ground. And then, with a snap of its fingers, it was gone: Peter wakes up in Aunt May's house, no longer married, with Mary Jane out of the picture. (She would not return to the book on any sort of consistent basis for over 50 issues.) In the wake of One More Day began Brand New Day, which is basically what it sounds like: a promised "brand new day" of "exciting" Spider-Man content and a publishing schedule where Amazing Spider-Man came out three times a month. (Which sounds good on paper but I think in practice caused more problems than it created good storylines.) Peter, newly single again, had new love interests! And also Harry Osborn was alive again for some reason! I generally like Harry's post-BND stories so that part's fine with me.

But overall? Brand New Day is a mess. It knows it wants to tread new and exciting ground with Peter -- tell new stories! ensnare new readers! make them fork out for a book three times a month. -- but it doesn't know what those stories should be. Readers who were invested in Peter and Mary Jane's relationship -- a major facet of Spider-Man comics for decades at that point -- felt rightfully betrayed that the marriage could be so easily traded in and that Mary Jane herself, perhaps the second most important figure in Spider-Man comics after Peter, could be tossed aside. From a personal point of view, I think Brand New Day fails in large part because it abandons what has always made Spider-Man such a compelling series, and that's the mix of Peter's personal life with his vigilante life. BND sees Peter with new friends, new jobs, new love interests, etc -- it is very much a brand new day! But it isn't a better day compared to the stories that came before it. I do like some post-BND stories, especially American Son (ASM #595-599) and Grim Hunt (ASM #634-637), but compared to pre-BND where I think the majority of canon is good, it's a very lacking body of work that is hurt by the way it divorced itself from the PeterMJ marriage as Spider-Man's central relationship.

"But Traincat, I thought you said you liked One More Day?" Yeaaaaah. I do. This is why I keep saying I like One More Day on its own merits, and not on the merits of the stories it opened the doors for. I like a good romantic tragedy in fiction, and the way Peter and Mary Jane's final scene in One More Day plays out is beautiful. I like the idea of Peter caught in this impossible situation, being asked to choose between two women he loves more than his own life. A really common criticism I see leveled against One More Day is that Peter should have chosen his relationship with Mary Jane over May's life, which is -- okay, I think it's weird that people keep insisting on this, not in the least because by asking Peter to sacrifice his aunt's life they're essentially demanding he commit a callous, out of character act in order to further his own interests. It's also weird because the thing is, Peter already chose Mary Jane over May -- that's what gets them into this situation. It's literally in the scene where May is shot:

(ASM #538) When the gun goes off, Peter's spider-sense kicks in, and he covers Mary Jane, leaving May in the path of the bullet. He does choose Mary Jane over May, regardless of whether he realized what he was doing. And that's why he can't make that choice a second time. His actions in One More Day do make sense for him as a character, whether or not any individual reader likes them, and Mary Jane's actions make sense, too -- after all, she's the one who ultimately tells Mephisto that they agree to the deal when Peter can't bring himself to voice it.

A lot of people also like to nitpick One More Day by going, well, why could (x) or (y) with life saving powers save Aunt May which is like -- yeah, I guess, but if we're going to ask that about this specific comic book near death setup, you kind of have to do it with every single one, and I'm not going to stake every single moment of comic book drama on whether or not that gold kid from the X-Men was busy at the time. Comics are soap operas in flimsy paper form: serialized longform storytelling that relies heavily on melodrama. Sometimes you have to go with things. Sometimes you sell your marriage to the devil. Stuff happens. That in and of itself doesn't make One More Day a bad story -- and while some people blame the Spider-Marriage's dissolution entirely on One More Day, I think that's a little shortsighted when you look at the history of Spider-Man since the turn of the century. It's clear -- and Marvel themselves have been perhaps a little too open about this -- that Marvel in the past few decades has had trouble with the direction they want to take Spider-Man. They WANTED Spider-Man to appeal to a distinctly youthful audience that they didn't think they were actually reaching -- understandable, considering that Marvel nearly went bankrupt around 2000 and was saved by Ultimate Spider-Man, an out of main continuity series which retold Spider-Man from the beginning and focused heavily on Peter as a teen -- but the problem was Spider-Man in the main continuity was at that point in canon a happily married man who was pushing the dreaded 30 whether or not they wanted to admit that. This is also why Marvel has continually pivoted away from Spider-Man having kids, because they feared that making him a dad would age him too much and make him unrelatable to their coveted audience of Teens. (This is also why almost every new Spider-Man property, especially the live action movies, perpetually stick him back into high school, despite that occupying a very small slice of 616 canon.) So around the year 2000, they started trying things in relation to the Spider-Marriage, which was viewed as a major problem -- after all, what's more adult than being married and liking your wife. First, they had Mary Jane presumed dead. Then, they had Mary Jane and Peter separate. Then, when Mary Jane and Peter had only recently gotten back together, One More Day struck. If One More Day specifically hadn't gone the way it had, it's pretty clear that the Spider-Marriage was going to go one way or another -- it's a little bit of a shame it happened when it did, because OMD is the end of J Michael Straczynski's run, and JMS wrote a really beautiful Peter and MJ relationship. But Marvel as a company and especially editor in chief at the time Joe Quesada viewed Peter and Mary Jane's relationship as a major problem in how they wanted to portray Spider-Man and thought that striking the relationship from the books would allow them more freedom in their portrayal of him as younger and more relatable to their Desired Audience of people who I guess really wanted to see Peter sleep with characters who weren't Mary Jane.

(ASM #546. Younger! Fresher! Less attached! Kissing random women in the club!)

The problem with One More Day has always been in the follow through -- from the content of Brand New Day to the pacing of events to the fact that Marvel withheld key information for such a long time that it allowed misinformation to thrive. After all, what does it MEAN to trade Peter and Mary Jane's marriage to the devil? It altered the events of canon in Peter and the majority of other characters' memories so that the marriage didn't exist, but it left people wondering -- did the relationship as they remembered it existed? How much of Spider-Man canon was altered? And the answers didn't come for over 100 issues of Amazing Spider-Man. One Moment In Time or OMIT (Amazing Spider-Man #638-641), which revealed that while Peter and Mary Jane never got married in the altered canon they did continue their long committed relationship up until just after Civil War, was published in 2010, so essentially readers were hung out to dry without answers for three years. That's a long time to string people along, but not as long as it took Marvel to confirm that the popular fan theory that Mary Jane retained her memories of the original timeline as part of her own deal with Mephisto was also true, which happened this year. I would say, at least from my perspective, a lot of the frustration doesn't come from the individual One More Day storyline so much as how Marvel has continually dragged out the aftermath, using the promise of a Spider-Marriage return to keep fans on the hook. Which is why One More Day continually comes up in discussion of current Spider-Man, because Spencer's run has relied very heavily on imagery from that period with a serious question of whether or not there actually was going to be payoff, something which is still up in the air.

This has been Spider-Man History With Traincat, brought to you by anonymice like you.

#traincat talks comics #long post #*replies

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multimetaverse · 4 years ago

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HSMTMTS 2x01 Review

New Year’s Eve was a great way to return to HSMTMTS especially after such a long gap. Let’s dig in!

Vladimir Lenin once said that, ‘’ there are decades where nothing happens; and there are weeks where decades happen". It’s been almost a year and half since S1 ended but this past week has seen revelation after revelation as the fandom has resurrected itself and promotion for S2 kicked into high gear: Joshua Bassett came out, Frankie and Joe confirmed that they are a real life couple, Larry seemingly confirmed that S2 will only have 11 eps rather than the 12 initially ordered, and perhaps most importantly Olivia revealed that she and the main cast are under contract for 4 seasons and made clear that she’s leaving the show as soon as her contract is up.

I really enjoyed this premiere, it felt like picking up right back where we left off. I’m guessing that S2 was originally supposed to premiere around Christmas or New Year’s but the holiday decorations and real Utah snow add a charming aesthetic to the ep. Tim Federle deserves credit for giving HSMTMTS more of an ensemble feel which is no easy feat with a cast as large as this show has. It likely won’t last due to covid restrictions but at least for tonight we got to see all the characters hanging out together acting like a real group of friends.

The dialogue tonight really reminded me of Glee and I think I mean that as a compliment. Miss Jenn in particular seems to be doing her best April Rhodes impression minus the alcoholism.

The rini scenes tonight were lovely. Perfect gift was a great song and I loved the rini duet during the music in me as the world faded around them leaving just the two of them. The Harry Styles reference is funny in light of Josh’s coming out interview. Of course, it’s hard now to separate Nini and Ricky and Olivia and Josh. Their chemistry shines through as 2x01, 2x02, and possibly parts of 2x03 were filmed pre Jolivia breakup which seems to have happened around summer 2020. Whether they can keep that same chemistry later on in S2, not to mention future seasons, remains to be seen.

A major theme tonight was communication and clearly Rini need to work on theirs. Poor Ricky had to learn that Nini’s moving to Denver the night before she leaves town which has to remind of him of his mom effectively abandoning him. Ricky saying that he’s never gonna breakup with Nini ever again sure sounds like foreshadowing for a disaster though the odds that this time Nini initiates the breakup are pretty good.

I’m glad that the show is continuing to delve in the Bowen’s divorce story with their house being sold and Ricky and his dad having to move into an apartment. Divorce is expensive and the division of assets typically leave people less well off. Mike Bowen needs to work on his communication skills but he’s rocking that beard; it takes him from depressed divorced dad to depressed divorced daddy.

Seblos was cute and in a nice change of pace Disney doesn’t seem to be cynically teasing them then cutting their scenes. It was refreshing to see them just being a couple and to hear Carlos casually refer to himself as gay. In that regard tonight’s ep didn’t seem like it was a Disney show at all and it’s major progress that there are now two main gay characters on HSMTMTS. We learn that Carlos is rich which seems likely to be a source of conflict with Seb who comes from a large farming family.

Bet on It was really fun and I liked that Ricky apparently couldn’t stop singing it. The medley of HSM 2 songs was fun but I’ll be real with you wildcats, I never thought HSM 2 or 3 were nearly as good as the first movie so I’m not sad that they’re doing something else this year.

Wild that Big Red’s mom also calls him Big Red. Salt Lake Slices seems poised to be a big part of S2 both as hangout spot and work location for some of the characters. Redlyn are sweet together but sometimes Big Red comes off as a closeted gay guy which isn’t ideal for a het pairing that is supposedly a big part of S2.

Nice to see Gina so excited to have sleepovers with Ashlyn. We know from 2x03 that Gina contends with being single on Valentine’s day and from her glances at Ricky tonight she’s clearly not over him. Tim’s playing with fire and I can only hope he knows what he’s doing. I liked the little detail of Kourtney having AOC on her vision board, it feels true to the character (hopefully AOC gets elected president one day if the USA doesn’t collapse into a fascist dictatorship or civil war before then). EJ’s beard has got to go but I like that he seems committed to being a better version of himself; very doubtful his plan to go straight to Duke like his forefathers doesn’t change by the end of the season.

Derek Hough did a good job of playing Zach as a subtly condescending man who managed to swiftly undermine Miss Jenn’s confidence, we’ll see what he and North High bring to the table.

Looking Ahead:

Next week are auditions for Beauty and the Beast, we know Ashlyn gets the role of Belle and EJ has conveniently removed himself from the running for Beast which presumably clears the path for Ricky to take the lead. There’s been some controversy over the casting choices and I’ll save my comments about it for the 2x02 review.

We get to see Lily who looks like a meaner version of season 1 Gina, we’ll see how much depth she actually ends up getting. Howie is introduced in 2x03 and Antoine likely shows up later on. Jack likely shows up towards the end of the season.

Howie seems to have a connection with Kourtney though the character synopsis does say he gets close to a wildcat or two which certainly leaves room to slide him into Gina’s plot. We know Antoine is into Ashlyn so that’s another love triangle to look forward to. Jack was described as having wanderlust and most of the cast seems not to have filmed with him so I think it’s likely that he plays a role in convincing EJ to take a gap year rather than head straight to Duke.

A translation leak on TikTok reveals that in 2x03 Gina is sad that she’s only gotten a Valentine’s Day gift from her mom. A brief clip from the promo shows up her on her porch at night holding a heart shaped box of chocolates. If that’s supposed to be from a secret or semi-secret admirer than it has to be from either EJ, Ricky, or Howie. If it’s a platonic gift then it could be from anyone, we’ll see what Tim has up his sleeves.

Nini moving back to SLC is a question of when not if. It’s going to be very difficult to bring her back in a way that’s justified and also doesn’t leave the time she spends in Denver looking like a total waste. Frankly, I’d rather the show just bite the bullet and bring her back with as little fuss as possible.

We’re possibly around a quarter way through HSMTMTS given that the mains have 4 season contracts and presuming that the show is not cancelled earlier. At the very least the show will be radically different after S4 if they try to continue it as Olivia has made very clear that she’s going to leave asap to pursue her burgeoning music career full time (notably she’s only done the bare minimum of promo for S2).

Looming over the remaining seasons of HSMTMTS is what the professional relationship between Olivia and Josh looks like especially since in many ways the show is built around Ricky and Nini. Off screen relationships have often caused on screen problems and dating a co-worker is rarely a good idea since even clean breakups leave lingering resentments. Obviously the Jolivia breakup was not clean, Driver’s License, Deja Vu, and Good 4 U (which is a certified bop) were clearly written from a place of hurt and in some ways were written to hurt. It’s no surprise that Joshua has dropped his duet with Sabrina Carpenter from his EP; someone on his team at least is trying to stop the damage to his reputation. There’s a decent chance that Olivia’s songs becoming such hits has irreparably damaged Joshua Bassett’s reputation among the same pool of largely young women that he’s targeting his music towards thereby cutting off his music career at the knees. If nothing else this behind the scenes drama should keep things entertaining for a while.

Until next week Wildcats

#HSMTMTS #Rini #Seblos #Ricky Bowen #Nini Salazar-Roberts #Carlos Rodriguez #Seb Matthew-Smith #Gina Porter #ej caswell #HSMTMTS Reviews

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brawltogethernow · 4 years ago

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Opinions on hair clip!Gwen vs MJ bangs!Gwen?

(Personally I think that the hair clips give off some kind of vibe and I don’t know what it is but it’s definitely there)

Very niche topic you were correct to guess I would have involved, impassioned thoughts about.

(Quick visual rundown of the history of Gwen’s hairstyle for the normal people out there:)

Aesthetically, of course the bangs are superior. At least some of why the headband and bangs look is iconic is because it’s a Look™. But that’s not...the point.

Copying MJ’s hairstyle - and then immediately needing to return to having something holding her hair back and experimenting with how to do that with short bangs for a while - is one of those little things that makes Gwen feel like a person despite her comparatively minor volume of appearances. It’s just such real social circle of 17-19yos behavior. Her smiling on the outside despairing on the inside face when Harry points it out??

Agonizing. I love it.

(Digressing but the panel immediately before this where Harry is like, “Peter, in my unprofessional opinion I diagnose you with Every Single Disease.” I love this era.)

Simultaneously, the vibes of Gwen stealing her hottest friend’s look? Her hottest friend who her other hot friend is clearly attracted to’s look?? Girl was really going through it. [Here I tried to casually insert a bi flag emoji, but there isn’t one.] Every leg of this love triangle-cum-OT3 is real.

So I love all of that, and you sacrifice all of it when you act like Gwen was born with a black headband fused to her skull divorce the bangs from their context. Having her already sporting the hyper-recognizable fringe look in high school is my sole critique of what we got of the Gwen Stacy solo title. (Marvel, please? The rest? I am but a starving Victorian orphan--) I was rooting so hard for acknowledging her awkward high school senior hair.... Like to a weird degree probably. I was texting people updates about the projected likelihood of the established hair continuity being adhered to as new promotional art dropped.

Because the clips are valuable shorthand to convey what era of Gwen you’re looking at! The sharp corners and exposed widow’s peak and old fashioned bit of curl tell you right away you’re looking at a less settled Gwen, someone with only one firm friend who, for all she’s remembered as a bookish sweetheart, did very much and by her own design hook up with Peter via an enemies-to-lovers route.

Gwen was MEAN when she was introduced! You can’t use the clips without remembering Gwen being mean, which honestly I think everyone writing her should take a couple of minutes a week to do, for health reasons. (Sometimes it’s for reasons of my health, as a reader.) I talk about how Peter/MJ is bitch4bitch and the poetry of two liars being honest only with each other, but Gwen and Peter? Very much united by a shared passionate drive to deck the world hard in the face and watch it bleed. And also science or whatever, I guess.

I don’t read Gwen as becoming a less intense, angry character through the different micro-eras you can mark by her hairstyle, but she gets more comfortable with the rest of the core cast while also picking up a thread of melancholy. (Okay sometimes...you have to read against the text a little to reconcile it with itself.) The sum effect of this mix gets flanderized into characterizing Gwen as a Good Girl, and when creators go with the headband look for periods where Gwen-the-character would be wearing hair clips, you know that even if they’re writing good content they view Gwen as a Good Girl who was Too Good For This World who would never ever start a petty feud or or insult someone who doesn’t deserve it or escalate a situation into minor violence. (Because, you know, women must not cause narrative drama by wanting things, only by being wanted.)

...More charitably, it’s just not going to hit the same, because it’s a sign the team is working with the concept of Gwen without either enough affection for or knowledge of her personal history to adhere to it. If you keep snipping bits out of her like this, you’re going to run out of girl pretty fast.

The silver clips anchor things in an era where there’s a greater discomfort with themselves in the whole cast and they’re all taking it out on each other. THERE IS DEFINITELY A WHOLE VIBE.

Also the style is actually very fun to draw, in my experience.

I’ve been sort of talking around the Doylist angle -- I think it’s excellent how much the progression of Gwen’s hair works from a characterization standpoint, given how every single minute change is very clearly a creative team shift thing. Horror art style to romance art style followed by whatever Stan Lee was doing to whatever Gerry Conway was doing had an effect on how the first stretch of Spider-Man reads you just. Could not bottle. Most of Gwen’s look shifts are very blatantly an ongoing series of nudges deeper into Romita Sr.’s favorite things to draw -- which incidentally looked excellent, so who was going to complain?

Of course, then if you continue with a meta lens beyond the JRSr era...the bangs look depreciates considerably! I was originally planning for that infographic at the top to do much harder double duty as a joke, with more images in between the last two. Death! Every single clone! Spider-Gwen! Flashbacks set before the bangs! But it’s like! How much effort do I really want to expend just to lampshade that her style has been frozen for 45 years!? Also it wasn’t going to be worth it without the skeleton as the punchline, so I had to go get that first because it was the only one I hadn’t actually seen personally, and finding it really sapped my energy for balancing good-natured ribbing with deep appreciation for a topic. I was kind of hoping people on Twitter had made that up!

Like. God damn. It still looks good, but the overlap with not really empathizing with this character or getting into her head is intense. Every day I thank Into the Spider-Verse for its bid at unfreezing Gwen’s hairstyle for the first time since 1973.

So like, yeah. I like looking at the bangs look slightly more, but adhering to them fanatically is refusing to use all the weapons in your arsenal. And to all the Marvel writers using the bangs while simping for either side of the Gwen vs. MJ thing: That’s MJ’s hairstyle, and that’s a little gay.

#gwen stacy #spiderman #spiderman meta #gwenmj #spidey #marvel #tortillas #asks answered #essays

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mindofharry · 4 years ago

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Garden Song

chapter 2 - motion sickness - garden song.

It’s been two years since the divorce between Julie and Grayson. A lot has changed. Grayson wants Julie more than ever. Will she take him back?

TW: some of the stuff mentioned in this series might trigger some people. please don’t read if you get triggered easily!

“i’m pregnant?”

Julie asked sarah, fear already taking over body. She had definitely done into some sort of shock. Julie placed a hand over her mouth and sat down on the toilet slowly, trying to comprehend this. Sarah had put the pregnancy test in the sink, and bent down in front of her friend.

“Is it graysons?” Sarah asked, no judgement evident in her voice. Julie looked down at her hands and let out a sob and nodded. “Hey, hey. It’s ok, i’m here” Sarah said pulling her into a hug.

“Everything was going ok” Julie paused letting out a breath. “The boys are so happy, Grayson has changed, really he has. He’s such a good dad and he’s been good to me. This baby, fuck, This baby would just ruin everything” Julie said, feeling so guilty. Sarah nodded and ran her fingers through julies curly hair. “We’ve been having sex for a couple weeks. We’ve been acting like we’re married, but it feels so good sarah. I feel so loved and happy” Julie cried pulling out of the hug.

“Why can’t god just let me be happy? Why did he decide that i didn’t deserve it?” Julie asked and sarah’s eyes filled up with tears.

No one deserved to be this sad, sarah thought. Julie is too good for this world, she deserves so much more.

“You’re deserve happiness, julie. Out of everyone i know, you deserve it so so much. Don’t let a man or a baby get in the way of that” Sarah said standing up. “Now, do i need to book an appointment for a scan or an abortion?” she asked and julies eyes widened.

“Sarah, i love you” Julie said and sarah’s eyes softened.

“I love you too, jules”

“But, um i need to tell grayson. He’ll be happy to do whatever i decide i think, but if i’m going ahead with an abortion he deserves to know before i go and it” Julie said and Sarah nodded.

“So you’re not worried about him leaving again?” Sarah asked and julie bit her lip shrugging. “I mean, there’s a part of me that’s preparing myself for it to happen. He’s so unpredictable lately. He may not leave the boys, but i have feeling he might leave me” She said and sarah cleared her throat and grinned.

“Well, you’ll always have me. I’m not going anywhere, whatever your decision is, ok?”

After cleaning herself up a bit, julie opened a bottle of wine for sarah to have. “I’ll drink twice as much for you” Sarah teased, Julie giggled and opened up a diet coke for herself.

Sarah left shortly after leaving julie to her own thoughts. Is this really happening? Would she be able to parent and look after three kids? And as she said, Grayson is unpredictable. The worst kind of unpredictable. She doesn’t know if she’d be able to parent three kids by herself. She’s too tired. Julies always wanted 5 kids when she was younger. Grayson agreed with her, saying they’d have their own little soccer team. They’d have 4 boys and 1 girl. Julie always wanted older brothers to look after her. She’d wonder would this baby have a good life, considering the boys’ life has been a bit rocky.

Is she emotionally and mentally able to have another child? Even to give up for adoption, is Julie able to go through a pregnancy right now? There was too many questions swimming around her brain, and it was overwhelming her. She needed to be calm and collected while talking to grayson. She didn’t want him to leave without having a full conversation.

Fuck, where did everything go wrong. The boys were both dropped home and tucked in no time. Grayson came to collect them early that morning for a boys day. The spend the day out in the park and in a nice restaurant.

“Julie? I’m home!” Grayson called out, the boys tumbling in. “Take off your shoes” Grayson told them hanging up their coats. The boys sat at the end of the stairs taking off their shoes, as told. They lined them up at the end of the stairs, grayson smiled at them.

“Go on and get some chocolate. Don’t tell mama” Grayson teased and the boys squealed running to the kitchen. Grayson walked into the living room to see julie laying on the couch. “Was gonna go out and do the food shop, but if you’re feeling too bad i can stay?” Grayson offered and Julie nodded.

“We can just get take out” Julie said rubbing her stomach, Grayson thought nothing of it. He just thought it was comforting her and helping her through the pain.

“Can we talk later?” Julie asked and Grayson furrowed his brows in confusion, but nodded anyways.

What could julie want to talk about?

“Mama!” Sebastian and Alexander yelled running in and basically sitting on julie. Julie, even as nauseous as she was, put a smile on her face and pulled through for her babies. Graysons face softened and sat down at the edge of the couch smiling at the interactions. The boys climbed all over julie kissing her face repeatedly, enjoying the sound of her laugh (more like cackle). Grayson never wanted this time to end.

He just had a feeling this wasn’t going to last forever.

Julie remembered times like this when grayson wasn’t around. The house was a little blue, but her boys smiling and laughing lit it up. The house was still a little blue, and she had a feeling it was going to stay that colour for a little while longer.

At least she’d always have her boys.

After dinner, the boys went upstairs to watch a movie before bed. They’re new obsession is the harry potter series, weirdly enough they’re actually able to stay away for all three hours that the movie goes on for. Sebastian is more interested than alexander, but they still both love it.

“The boys are upstairs, you want some wine?” Grayson asked pulling out a wine glass for himself. Julie shook her head and grayson smirked. “You never say no to a glass a wine, are you pregnant?” He teased laughing loudly, pulling out another wine glass expecting julie to laugh along too. When he turned around he saw julie about to break down. He could tell she was holding back a sob.

Fuck.

“You’re pregnant?” He asked putting down the glass. He rested his hands on the counter.

It was silent.

“Julie, answer me” Grayson said loudly, making her jump. Grayson sighed and placed a hand over his eyes. Julie cleared her throat. “I’m pregnant, took the test yesterday. I haven’t gone to the doctors yet” Julie said and grayson sighed feeling himself become really angry.

“Are you sure it’s mine?” He asked before he could even think about what he was going to say. Julies eyes widened and let out a bitter laugh. “Grayson i’ve been having sex with you for nearly months. Of course, it’s yours” She let out and grayson nodded.

“It’s just a lot to take in, Jules” He said and Julie nodded.

“I understand that” She said and let out a sob. “Please don’t leave me. I can’t handle being alone again” she cried and grayson sighed and walked around to pull her into a hug.

“I’m here to stay, julie. I’m not leaving again. But i don’t know if i can be a parent to three kids, i don’t know if you’re able to either. We’re really good right now, we’re in an amazing place with the boys. This baby would just ruin things” Grayson said rubbing his hands up her back.

“This baby would ruin us”

Julie pulled back and her brows furrowed. Ruin us? Their relationship?

“What do you mean?” She asked and grayson sighed leaning against the counter. “If you have this baby, it’s the end for us. Whatever this is was never going to last, Julie. We were just having fun. So if you have this baby, i’m not gonna be here for the booty call side of things. I’m a dad only” He said and julie took a step backwards.

“Booty calls?” She asked her eyes widening. “You fucking begged me take you back into my bed. You were practically crying the first time we have sex again” Julie seethed.

“It was never a bit of fun, Grayson” Julie paused looking up at grayson. “At least it wasn’t to me” she said and grayson tried to touch her again, to comfort her. But she shook her head “I don’t know what i’m going to do with the baby yet. But i do know whatever relationship we had before, it’s gone and done” she said. “If i go ahead with the abortion, do not come crawling back. You had your chance” Julie said and began walking of the kitchen.

“Yeah, go ahead just leave” grayson yelled after her. “Like you always do” He mumbled. Julie turned around and glared at him. “Me? Leaving like i always do?” she asked and grayson nodded with a horrible and disgusting look on his face.

“You LEFT me!” Julie yelled pointing at grayson. “You cheated on me, you lied to me, you gaslighted me, you left your sons, you did this all grayson dolan. You LEFT ME!” Julie cried and she was beginning to walk away but she stopped and turned around once more.

“But i guess it’s me that feels stupid now. i gave you another chance, after you fucking destroyed this family” Julie said and turned around to walk out of the kitchen once more. “Lock up when you’re leaving” she mumbled walking upstairs.

The boys were still watching their movie, which was good. She didn’t want them go through this again - so julie would keep this to herself. It’s better for everyone else if grayson and julie just kept their problems to themselves.

She gave a lifetime giving him her heart, and grayson constantly broke it. Constantly.

Julie sighed and sat down on the bed. Her phone dinged, she was guessing it was grayson. Julie picked it up and read the message.

ethan: coming home soon. i hope i’m still welcome in your home. i love you.

oh fuck.

Julie is pregnant, with her ex husbands baby. Her ex husband doesn’t want this baby or her for that matter - her ex boyfriend, that happens to be her ex husbands brother is coming home after breaking her heart in two.

Everything is going great.

50 notes · View notes

darker-soft-starker · 4 years ago

Photo

Starker High School AU Pt. 7 (1...6)

tw: general Howard Stark warning

----

So, here’s the thing.

Peter meant to ask May about the letter the night he got it back from Tony, He really did. But then everyone was in such a good mood, he couldn’t bring himself to shatter that to satisfy his own curiosity.

So then he meant to ask the next day.

And he tries, he really does.

But the letter feels as heavy as an anvil in his desk drawer and Peter is too nervous to ask about it. Something always comes up or he gets too scared to shatter the image of the good, obedient nephew he is, one who doesn’t go rifling through mail not addressed to him, prying into personal business.

So he flusters and stumbles pretty badly for the first couple attempts. He changes topic quickly, pretending like he was going to ask about something else, asking himself where exactly his business ends and where his curiosity begins.

Once during a gymnastics comp he stopped mid routine to check on a rival who had fallen from the rings and injured themselves. His coach asked when he was going to stop being a goddamn martyr.

He shakes the Magic 8-Ball on Monday morning and asks the universe if it’s an appropriate time to approach May.

Reply hazy, try again.

Well, that’s not what his flagging courage had hoped for. He shakes it again.

Ask again later.

One more time, harder.

Better not tell you now.

“What the hell,” he whispers, placing it haphazardly upon where he took it. “That’s bullshit.”

“What’s with the potty mouth,” May asks suddenly from behind him. He turns as she’s affixing some dangling earrings to her ears. “What’s wrong, kiddo?”

“Nothing,” he sighs. “Just - do you have a minute?”

She checks her watch. “I have about forty seconds. Is something wrong - are you okay?”

“No - I mean yes, I’m okay. Are...are you?”

“Top of the world, bubby,” she scoops her keys from the bowl, approaching him with a curious expression. “Why do you ask?”

There’s no easy way to ask without blatantly admitting to going through her things, and the last thing he wants her to think is that she can’t trust him.

“I just mean. If you weren’t. If there was something wrong, you would tell me, right?”

“Of course,” her face falls. “You’re acting strange, Pete.”

“I just worry, that’s all.”

You’re all I have left, is what loops over and over in his mind, but doesn’t say. She seems to hear it anyway, rushing forward and kissing his forehead, her perfume filling his nose.

“Everything is fine, bubs. The second it isn’t, you’ll be the first to know.”

“Okay.”

“I gotta go, but stop worrying okay? That’s my job. You have a good day.”

She hurries to scoop up her handbag and closes the door before he’s broken out of his thoughts long enough to reply. He sighs and shakes the stupid ball again before he leaves as well.

Cannot predict now.

Of course.

Just for once he’d like fate to be firmly on his side.

---

Something smells weird.

It’s sharp, chemical and not entirely unpleasant. Noticeable, however, sharp enough to cut through the usual musty smell of the library. It’s like apple cider, but overpowers the usual library smell of old books and dust and pencil shavings, a scent Peter has long associated with study, solitude, and the easing of his anxious heart from a gallop to a steady stride.

It’s not a bad smell, just misplaced.

And Tony’s been acting strange all study period. Like, weirder than normal - and his resting state of normal is already ineffably frenetic and bewildering, so this was an entirely different carton of eggs.

Peter doesn’t exactly want to bring it up, they’re kind of on a tenuously peaceful truce, a silent lay down of arms, so to speak.

Well, as peaceful as a truce can be while they call each other all sorts of names and rib each other over literally any sign of weakness, but still. They have some sort of an understanding now, and it’s all relatively innocent, good natured banter.

Mostly.

Peter for sure could have done without being called fuck-face-mcgee upon entering the library, but he’s willing to let it pass. He was late, after all.

“Anyway,” Peter says, sitting across the table from Tony, “so I think if we removed the monthly gym membership, we’d have an extra sixty per month that could go towards other stuff.”

“Like what?” Tony’s face pinches.

“I don’t know, like a college fund?”

“Ridiculous idea. I need that membership,” Tony rebukes, shrugging his leather jacket off, hooking it over the back of the chair. “When else am I supposed to get a reprieve from you and the cabbage patch?”

“When do I get a reprieve? I’m the money-maker. When do I get my break from work and childcare?”

“At work. What are you, like an art teacher or something? Your whole day is like a rich, white woman's vacation. Parents don’t get a lunch break.”

“Right. I’m sure watching Dora and burping an infant is as hard as teaching a class of thirty.”

“Wow. So dismissive. I mean, if you were a good spouse, you would give your withered and weary husband a break from screaming babies and shitty diapers.”

“Mhmm. That would mean I’d have to do something nice for you, and that doesn’t sound like me.”

Tony shakes his head. “We’re getting a divorce as soon as Molly is old enough to pick me as the superior parent,” he points to Peter’s papers. “Put that in the notes.”

Peter closes his eyes and sighs, willing himself not to lean over the table and smack the other boy.

“You are not the superior parent. You’re the deadbeat that forgets to pick her up from school and day drinks.”

“And yet, she loves me the most. You’re just the breadwinner who comes home grumpy every evening. I’m the cool dad.”

“Fine, keep your druglord baby. I never wanted kids anyway.”

“Fine. I’m keeping the car.”

“I’m keeping the apartment.”

“Good.”

“Great.”

They snicker quietly in a rare moment of camaraderie before a lightbulb goes off in Peter's head.

“What if we used the membership, but cut costs elsewhere, like, cutting our own hair and stuff. We could save for a yearly holiday, go to the beach or something.”

“Florida! Disney, roadtrip, yes,” Tony clicks his fingers towards Peter, smiling wide. “Look at you getting all savvy. Call the judge, the marriage is back on.”

“You can’t go to Disney for a few hundred dollars, dumbass, that’s barely the price of admission,” Peter scribbles on his pad, making note of their ideas. “You ever been?”

“Nope.”

“Really?”

“Not even once.”

“That’s surprising. Isn’t that where all rich white people take their baby sociopaths to beat up their first mascot?”

“One, I was never a baby, I emerged fully grown, and two, could you imagine Howard Stark within a mile of the happiest place on earth? He’d have a fucking stroke,” his face changes like he’s had an epiphany. “Not a bad idea, actually.”

Peter doesn’t mention that he doesn’t personally know Howard Stark but is willing to take Tony’s assessment at face value. That being said, he can’t imagine Tony, now, voluntarily heading to Disney without coercion or the promise of copious quantities of alcohol. He’d probably smoke and cuss and scare away small children.

He mind lingers on that particular characterisation, and for a moment tries to picture what Tony looked like as a kid, if he was a chubby, toothless little brat, can’t help then imagining him with Mickey Mouse ears, gleefully running through his gigantic home, harried caretakers running after him.

He must have been the worst.

“I’ve never been further than Washington,” Peter offers, “but that was for AcDec, so it wasn’t like we got to see much.”

“You did Academic Decathlon?”

“Yep.”

“Ew, why would you do that to yourself.”

“I still do it. It looks good on college applications and it’s fun,” he shrugs. “I like it. I’m good at it.”

Tony’s hands cover his mouth, but it doesn’t stifle the rising apple of his cheeks or the mirth in his voice.

“I’m feeling so much second-hand embarrassment for you right now.”

“Shut up,” Peter huffs, kicking him under the table, satisfied when the other boy winces. He fails to smother his own wince when he gets a kick in return, right in the kneecap. “Nothing wrong with being an intellectual.”

“You’re a fucking nerd, four-eyes.”

“What about you?” Peter rolls his eyes, keen to change the subject. “Been outside New York?”

Tony shrugs, tapping his pen on the pad, looking anywhere but at him. “When I was younger I’d sometimes go on my dad's business trips to Europe or Japan or whatever. And we have a house in Malibu.”

“That sounds awesome.”

Tony snorts. He shuffles on his seat, sliding their notes over and making further amendments in quick strokes, the cheap pen spurting bright red ink over the paper like arterial spray.

“Oh yeah, it was a real blast.”

Spoiled brat.

“Are you going anywhere for Thanksgiving?”

“With my family?” Tony looks up. “No, I’d rather stick my head up a turkey’s ass. You?”

Without warning, Peter’s hand flies to cover his mouth, unable to but snort at the imagery, He’s not sure if Tony just doesn’t get along with his family or if he’s still stuck in that churlish, ‘too cool to be around my parents’ stage of adolescence. It’s one the idiosyncrasies that would have annoyed Peter before, his ungratefulness of having a family that’s still alive would be just another thing for Peter to hate him for.

Now, he thinks, he’s beginning to parse out when Tony’s being sincere and when he’s hyperbolic, finally recognising the latter as a mechanism to throw someone off a topic that makes Tony uncomfortable. He sees it - the warning lights and stop signs in barbed coding, wrapped up in dry wit and sarcasm.

Peter is like that sometimes, too.

And what the hell would Peter know about having a normal family.

“Yeah, actually, for once,” he says softly. “My aunt - not May - and uncle have a holiday home up north, so we’re staying with them over the long weekend.”

“S’cool. May’s family?”

Peter shakes his head. “Sort of - they’re not actually related, but May and Margaret have been best friends since college, so.”

“Is Margaret a babe, too?”

Peter throw a chewed-up pencil at him that he catches easily.

“Don’t be gross.”

“I’m not,” he throws the pencil back, overshooting and hitting the shelves behind them. “What are we talking, on a scale of haggard to hottie.”

“I don’t know, man. You seem to have questionable taste in the people you are attracted to.”

Tony grins crookedly, eyes shining with something Peter can’t decipher. “Ain't that the truth.”

“What’s the supposed to --” he stops himself, suddenly recognising what the strange scent was that he’d been picking up. “Wait - dude, are you wearing cologne?”

Tony’s mouth opens and closes a few times before he responds. “No,” he denies, just as the bell rings. “Oh, look at that, time to get to class.”

Saved by the bell.

“So, this is it,” Tony nods, shutting the lid of his laptop as the bell signals the end of their free period. “We’re done. The assignment. That’s the last of it, right?”

Dazedly, he watches Tony stuffing his laptop and notes into his backpack, brow creasing as his mind catches up.

“Uh, yeah. I guess.”

“Send me your notes tonight, I’ll stitch them together with mine and send them back.”

“Okay,” he sluggishly collects his own notes, picking up the bag by his feet. “That’s - that’s good.”

“Well, Parker,” Tony slings his backpack on his shoulder, shuffling backwards, “we didn’t kill each other. I mean, not for a lack of wanting on my behalf.”

‘’Yeah, from Wednesday we’re free. We can go back to normal.”

“Yeah,” Tony’s grin fades. They stare at each other for a long moment that could have been seconds or hours, he doesn’t know, until the second bell rings.

“Hey, um --”

“I’ll send you the notes later,” Tony interrupts, sotto voce. “I gotta get to class. See you around.”

Something in his stomach deflates, sadly and slowly, like a balloon with a pinprick, emptying itself until it’s an uncomfortably hard to digest crumpled mass at the base of his stomach. He pastes on a smile and looks out the window, hoping the feeling doesn’t show in his eyes.

That’s when he notices the leather jacket Tony has left behind, still slung over the back of the chair.

“You left your…” he trails off, turning back, but Tony is already long gone, probably already halfway to his next class. Like a bat out of hell, Peter thinks wryly, picking up the jacket, the leather smooth like butter under his touch, still warm around the collar where Tony’s had been leaning against it.

No good leaving it here to get stolen or be tossed into lost property. He decides to take it with him, folding it gently over his arm. He’ll give it back when he sees him again, maybe after school.

“Nice jacket, Parker,” Flash says approvingly when Peter bumps into him out in the hall.

At first he thinks he’s referring to Peter’s ratty hoodie, and it confounds him for a moment because it’s decidedly not nice, but then he realizes he’s referring to the leather in his arms.

“It’s not mine,” he replies a little too late, because Flash is already down the hall, out of earshot.

Peter sighs. It’s beginning to become a depressing theme.

---

The weird feeling in his chest doesn’t subside all afternoon, and into the evening Peter is starting to think maybe he just has indigestion, like acid reflux or something. Must be the chilli surprise from lunch. Maybe he’d missed his meds.

He sends his portion of the final notes to Tony’s email, turns off his computer and switches on Colbert.

---

It’s not until hours later, well after midnight and the infomercials are playing, only then does his phone buzz against his thigh with a response.

Figures that Tony would be a night owl like him.

> soz was distracted > youtube spiral

Peter shifts downwards on the bed, holding the phone over his face. < s’ok < what were you watching > say yes to the dress < lmao really > lol no > anyway, looks good. ur notes > will print off for u to sign tomorrow < is that a compliment or an admission u were wrong about me

> neither. One subject does not a genius make > unlike me, an actual genius

In your dreams, dipshit, he wants to type, but doesn’t, not really keen to provoke a muddy discussion on who is the smartest (it’s definitely Peter).

< u left ur jacket in the library btw, I have it, he texts instead, his pulse jumping when Tony replies with crying emoji’s.

Tony sends him a snap, unexpectedly, a sad face that makes Peter snort. His face seems distressed, the caption reads, thought i lost it for good.

Shifting down further on the bed, he’s feeling suddenly and inexplicably courageous, fire burning up from his belly button to his fingers.

Peter takes a silly photo of himself and sends it back. > didn’t want it to get stolen < aw u care

“I do not,” he whispers to himself. > i do not. come collect it after school tomorrow or im throwing it out. < u wouldn’t do that to me > there’s a lot of things i would do 2 u > .... > um > lol

Peter’s face flames at the implication. He reads over what he just so carelessly typed, stomach positively knotted with embarrassment. Oh god, that is not what he meant. His fingers fly over the screen at record speed as he types out a response. < NOT LIKE THAT < I MEANT IT IN A THREATENING WAY < I’M LITERALLY GAGGING > yikes > ur dirty talk needs work < no it DOESN’T bc we’re not sexting > sure jan > damn. didn’t kno u had it in u bubs < i don’t have it in me > not yet > ;)

Despite the deep blush still heating his face and his heart galloping in his chest, a laugh breaks out of him. The phone in his hand vibrates again. > jk jk, not ever > need to bleach my brain now

Slowly gliding back to earth he types out a response. < ikr me too < ugh.

He puts his phone down on the bed, looking up at the water-stained ceiling, amusement slowly fading. His pulse though, that doesn’t return to normal.

How could it when his mind suddenly runs away from him, evoking short-lived, but nonetheless strikingly vivid images of intertwined legs, planes of pale skin, and lush lips. How can the heat in his stomach escape when his thoughts conjure phantom sensations of a soft mouth sucking on his neck, the punishing grip of hands on his hips and the warmth and weight of another body on top of his own.

A forehead leaning against his, brown eyes that knocked his pulse off kilter.

The taste of nicotine.

Stop it.

That is dangerous territory right there. And a line he doesn’t want to cross.

Shaking his head, Peter swings his legs over the side of the bed and sits up, looking anywhere for a distraction; his window, the posters on his wall, his figurines on his shelves, anything to douse the low-burning fire in his gut.

Standing, he heads to the bathroom to get ready for bed, banging their crappy old heater with his fist to get it working again.

He takes a very cold shower.

----

It’s not that Peter doesn’t enjoy sex.

Not that he’s had it.

But he enjoys jerking off, at least. Like a regular amount, whatever that is for a teenage boy. He likes kissing. Likes thinking about one day being in a real relationship and exploring someone's body and he likes exploring what turns him on and what he doesn’t.

It’s just that he doesn’t let himself think of anyone he knows personally that way, no matter how conventionally attractive they are - not Thor, and especially not him.

Typically, his fantasies are people with vague features, sometimes with bodies like those he has seen in porn, all shapes and sizes. And that’s safe for him.

He doesn’t want to have to look anyone he knows in the eye and wonder what their lips would feel like pressed against his own. If they’re any good at kissing. If they’re the type to take control or cede it.

He does wonder, sometimes though. No matter how much he denies what or who he wants.

Because it doesn’t matter if it’s a person or a thing. Want is never superficial in his experience, it doesn’t feel good most of the time. It’s deep and sometimes dark, it sinks itself into him with its hooks and it tugs, and keeps tugging. It yields to craving and yearning.

Back in his bedroom, his eyes land on his wall-mounted mirror. It’s small. Like the Mona Lisa. Small enough that he doesn’t have to see his whole reflection if he doesn’t want to.

He doesn’t want to crave and yearn for anybody, because he knows it will always be one sided. He’s well aware that he isn’t exactly centrefold material.

Who is gonna look at his weird ears or thin lips, and think, shit, that’s the guy of my dreams. Not with his big glasses or the way his hair twists itself into frizzy, unruly curls once the gel wears off and he starts looking like an unkempt labradoodle.

Who would want to wake up next to him? No one.

So it’s better not to risk imagining anyone real. It’s only in his head that anyone could ever want him back.

His eyes go from the mirror to the jacket folded and placed on his desk. It was intended to be plain sight so he remembers to bring it in - out of sight, out of mind, is what Ben would say. He can still smell the cologne Tony denied wearing earlier.

Once he’s in bed, he turns to face the wall.

Out of sight, out of mind.

---

Maybe Tony subscribes to that mantra as well.

Peter forgets to bring the jacket in all week and Tony doesn’t ask.

---

Danvers wants him fit and ready to be harpooned into the mud by next week; that’s why she looks the other way when Thor and Peter take their informal training in the boundaries of the field, stretching out on the grass as the JV team runs their usual morning drills - drills Peter would have been a part of before his stupid injury and his stupid wrist-brace.

This school is stupid too. Now he has to pay to see a doctor so he can get medically cleared for a sport he doesn’t really care that much about.

Like he didn’t have enough medical bills to deal with.

In any case, he’s not really in a position to complain, because he has the opportunity now to run through his warm-up with Thor, who is taking his direction to spread his legs into a butterfly position so beautifully, even as his knees raise from the ground to make a v-shape, whereas Peter’s lie flat on the grass.

If the last few days had been different, he might have blushed and used the situation at hand as an opening to place his hands on Thor’s knees and applied pressure. But now he just smiles encouragingly and reminds himself that he has no chance - no place - and his hands do not belong anywhere but his own body.

And surprisingly enough, he’s okay about it all.

Thor was a good guy. Peter will never say no to having more friends.

It’s a dreadful, bitter morning. Icy cold, wind biting into his shirt, the grass below them is damp. He has to keep rubbing his hands together so he can restore feeling in his fingers.

To make things worse, Tony is back on the bleachers. White v-neck, jeans and dark sunglasses. Sprawled out over a set of steps, legs askew, arms behind his head, unmoving as if he were napping or sunbathing, appearing like a cocky main out of an eighties movie.

Or a king surveying his kingdom.

Rhodes and Potts slouch on either side of him, swapping phones over his idle figure, taking pictures and laughing amongst themselves.

“It burns,” Thor says lightly, hands on his thighs in an attempt to aim his knees to touch the ground.

“Yeah,” Peter agrees, despite the ease in which he can lean in. “It just takes practice, dude. Twenty minutes a day, warm up and don’t over-do it. You’ll be limber in no time.”

“You can do this better than I can,” Thor argues, accent thick as he tries to lie flat like Peter.

“And you can lift a hundred pounds better than I can,” he tries to rebut, even as they switch positions, hip flexors aching with old injuries.

While the stretches are like second nature, he doesn’t miss the pressure of training for competition. The eagerness to get into a flat butterfly or oversplit. There was no argument that he spent nights on crunches back then, and he was somewhat toned - but he was shit at weight training. He hated lifting. Reps were more boring, more tedious and difficult and the diet required to give them any value was frankly not worth giving up a great hotdog or a loaded sub from Delmars. He wouldn’t go back to it now.

None of that old heat is there when he inspects Thor’s form. That quick simmer, the call to be closer. That terrible thing, want. All but gone. awe is still there, as he suspects it always would be with someone as outstanding as Thor, but the butterflies have very much flown away.

As he suspected would be the case. He has someone and they’re happy. With the cat out of the bag Thor had shown Peter pictures of his boyfriend all morning. He’d gotten a puppy, apparently, which just tickled Thor. He was so happy it was almost sickening.

When is it gonna be him that sickens someone with photo’s of his partner?

“Hey, Parker,” Tony yells from the stands, “you suck!”

Looking over, the idiot is raised on his elbows and grinning, like he’s proud of himself for a spectacularly unoriginal insult.

Rolling his eyes, Peter gives him the finger and he gets one in return.

His stomach twists and he has to duck his head to conceal his smile.

“Your husband is somewhat rude,” Thor says, following Peter’s example and switching from a pike to a lunge.

Peter looks back over to the stands. A cigarette now dangles between Tony’s full lips, sunglasses slid to the tip of his nose.

That’s how Peter knows he’s looking at him too.

Even from afar his eyes are round and mirthful, framed with ridiculously long lashes like a cartoon mouse, far too outlandish for any real person to have.

“He’s the absolute worst,” Peter bites his bottom lip, quickly averting his gaze. “It was an arranged marriage, to be fair.”

---

Wednesday comes and goes.

Their assignment gets handed in, Peter signs it off to say he did his fair portion of the work and Miss Ahn beams at the both of them when she is handed the thick binder, looking all too pleased with herself.

They have a presentation of their work next week, after Thanksgiving, each pair expected to give five minutes of their life pretending that they’re passionate about schoolwork in front of their fellow students who don’t care.

After that they are completely unburdened. No study sessions, no car rides, and no fries dipped in milkshakes.

They’re embarrassingly hailed as a prime example of people working through their differences, as if they had come together and were now friends or something.

From the front row Tony sneaks a furtive glance at Peter when she applauds them to the class.

“See, kids,” she says, “it wasn’t so bad working together, was it?”

Their eyes meet briefly.

“Zero out of ten, would not do again,” Tony declares, brash and loud, kicking his combat boots onto his desk in a leisurely display.. “That guy is the human equivalent of watching paint dry. Awful.”

“Oh, come on,” she chides. “Be nice.”

Not one to be outdone, Peter lets his horse out of the gate too.

“Singular worst experience of my life. I once had a root canal without anaesthetic and it was less painful than working with him.”

“Alright, boys, that’s enough out of you,” Miss Ahn sighs deeply, walking to the front of the room. “Mr Lang, how did you find the assignment?”

“Very informative…”

From the front row Tony turns in his seat and winks at him.

----

“Thanksgiving plans?” Natasha asks, leaning beside his locker, smothering a smile as he struggles to get his locker open for the nth time that day with one functional hand.

“Visiting my Aunt and Uncle,” he says, finally prying the damn thing open. “They’ve got a place up at Otisco Lake, so. Probably watching old movies and swimming all weekend.”

“Oof,” his friend winces. “That’s a trip. Think the May-Mobile will make the distance?”

The May-Mobile of course to the ancient, ‘89 Volvo 240 that May has been driving ever since Peter was born. She adores it and refuses to trade in, despite the fact that it rarely gets driven, practically haemorrhages gas, and has cost more in repairs in the last five years than the actual value of the car. But May really loves it. It's sentimental. She says it was the car Ben and her picked out together.

“It better make it,” he dumps his books in, closing the locker. “I don’t want to spend the weekend waiting for AAA in the middle of nowhere. What’s your plans?”

She shrugs, walking with him down the hall.

“Probably go and annoy Yelena. Was supposed to spend it with Bucky and his mom, but that ain't happening.”

He bumps her shoulder sympathetically. “Do you think you two will get back together?”

“Probably. But he’s got a shitload of grovelling to do first.”

“Don’t maim him, please. We need him on the team.”

“No promises.”

“Speak of the devil,” Peter adjusts his glasses, spotting Bucky at the base of the stairs talking to somebody. He gets startled, heart jumping when Natasha grabs him by the waist, pushing him towards the wall and inching them closer to the stairs.

“What are you --”

“ -- Shh, I want to listen. Who is he talking to?”

Craning his head, he finds himself in for another surprise when he sees that the other person he’s talking to is --

“He’s… he’s talking to Stark - what...?”

She shushes him again and Peter listens, curious now too.

“... what do you want, Barnes?” Tony visibly grimaces, taking a cigarette from his pocket and tucking it behind his ear. “Make it quick. I got places to be and your noxious stench gives me headaches.”

An announcement goes off over the loudspeaker over their head, calling for Brendon Bennett, a dick of a senior, to move his car from where he has blocked a teacher from leaving. It would be funny at any other time, but as it goes, he misses a chunk of their conversation.

“...Rogers isn’t the boss of me.”

“Yes, he is, and I’m not getting suspended again because you’re a pussy and he has roid-rage.”

“I just need an ETA. C’mon, pal, I really need this.”

“I’m not your pal and I don’t give a flying fuck what you need.”

Ever the easy going guy, Bucky puts his hands up placatingly as a group of students file down the stairs, causing enough noise that Peter misses whatever is said next. As he strains to hear he tries to draw the line between the dots, but comes up short on exactly how these two are connected.

“That fucker,” Natasha mutters near his ear.

By the time the students clear, Tony’s descended the stairs and begun to walk away

“I have better things to do than to sit around and wait for you,” Bucky calls out, giving him the finger.”

“And yet you will.”

Not in any possible lifetime was Peter going to address that he was weirdly relieved that Tony didn’t flip him off in return, some part of him petulantly thinking that’s our thing, but that’s wrong - Peter and Tony are not friends and they do not have things, even when they do, it’s not like a thing thing.

Nat grips his hand and pulls him along when Bucky leaves as well, swiftly walking away to avoid being caught. His backpack jostles at the speed and he realizes he’s still clutching Tony's jacket from where he had retrieved it from his locker.

“What was that about?” He asks, struggling to keep up with his friend's furious pace as he’s led down the hall. “Tash?”

She drops his hand once they are outside, her disapproval near palpable, voice laden with fire and fury.

“That’s Bucky being a world class idiot, he’s gonna get himself expelled, I swear.”

Peter stops on the spot.

“Expelled?”

Something dark curls unpleasantly in his gut, heavy and not leaving.

“They have a thing,” she explains hotly, mouth turning down. “Bucky and Stark.”

“What?” Peter breathes, uncomfortably thinking back to the party and the way Bucky overtly complimented Tony’s body. “Like a.... like a sex thing? Did he cheat on you?”

“What? No.”

“Then what?”

Red strands whipping in the wind, his friend looks around to see if there is anyone nearby before leaning in to speak low. He leans in too, unabashedly curious.

“Do you remember when Bucky was having issues with his parents when school started?”

He nods, thinking back to the times Bucky slept over in the late days of summer and early weeks of the school year, once or twice a week to get away from the shouting in his own home.

Natasha continues.

“Don’t tell him I told you this, but he got really depressed and fell behind with his work and everything he was handing in was terrible. Danvers pulled him up and said if he didn’t get his grades up, he’d be risking his spot on the team. So Bucky paid Stark to write up a few assignments for him, apparently he was doing it for a few kids, like it was a thing.”

...Okay.

That was not good, and definitely disappointing, but -

“Rogers found out. He gave Bucky a warning, but with Stark he threatened to go to Fury.”

Peter thinks back to the fight between their captain and Stark and their fight not long ago. “That’s why they…”

“I’m told Stark snapped, but I don’t know. I found out about the whole paper thing after that and me and Buck fought about it. I just got so mad - he’s - he’s not stupid, you know?”

“I know.”

She exhales heavily through her nose. “He’s going to get himself kicked out of school and I’m so -- I could kill him. We’re supposed to graduate together and get away from our families and go to college, and then he does this.”

“I’m sorry, Tash, I didn’t know,” he hugs her, her body going stiff before relaxing in his hold. “That’s shitty. For both of you.”

“I’m sorry for thinking you were in on the loop.”

He smiles, self-deprecating.

“Nope, I’m as clueless as ever.”

“No, you’re just too good for that,” she shakes her head. “Look, I gotta go and blow off some steam. Please don’t tell anybody about all this.”

“I won't, I swear - but text me later, alright? Let me know you’re okay.”

She ruffles his hair before stepping back.

“You’re a bleeding heart, PP. Keep an eye on that, will you?”

Hearing a squeal of tyres, he whips his head around to the parking lot, the source of the noise. The Firebird squeals out of the lot and onto the road, the sound as angry, the glimpse Peter gets of Tony’s face, even angrier.

He turns back to Nat, but she’s already walked away. Which means she isn’t there to hear him mutter to himself.

“What are you getting into, Tony?”

----

His thumbs hover over his phone that night, as he writes i saw u with barnes today.

He quickly deletes that, not wanting Tony to think that he was following him or spying on him - or worse, thinking that Peter actually cares about what he does. He doesn’t. They’re not friends.

A dread settles in the spaces between his ribs, like thread trying to squeeze them together too tight, his lungs feeling compressed. Maybe it’s his asthma, or allergies.

It’s not and he knows it. He’s disappointed.

He rubs at his chest on his way home thinking about the scene they just saw and about what Natasha said. How is it that so many people in his orbit had this entire entanglement going on without Peter having any whiff of it? It really makes him wonder if they were they good at hiding it or was he just really fucking stupid. Stupid enough to think Bucky was doing okay, that Rogers wasn’t as sanctimonious as he appeared to be, and that Tony was --

Nevermind.

It’s none of his business and it’s not his place.

He knows better than to ask. It’s not as if he can forget all his own secrets that he clutches tightly to his chest, so tight it feels like he constantly walks through life with his fists clenched.

That and, like May, the real truth is that he can’t claim any entitlement to their trust. He eavesdropped in more ways than one these last two weeks. He tries to brush off that dry, sobering thought; it’s none of his business anyway and he has enough on his plate without getting involved.

When are you going to stop being such a goddamned martyr.

So then he thinks about the sheer fury on Tony’s face, how his - how he used to look at Peter the same way, and how Peter used to think that angry and bitter was Tony's default mood. That was that. The status quo.

Well, that wasn’t entirely fair, was it. It was easier to dislike Tony when he was distant enough that Peter could pigeon-hole him into a stereotype.

Because Tony got into fights, sure, countless and petty, but he was the guy who pet puppies and snuck them food under the table. Not the guy who kicked them.

He looked like the puppy that was kicked, though.

Not angry.

Wounded.

And that’s what confuses Peter. Turns out he doesn’t really know anything about his friends.

Or Tony, it would seem.

----

May closes the drivers-side door and throws a packet of snacks into Peter’s face.

“Pretzels.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” he adjusts his glasses where they'd been knocked askew.

“Sorry, I thought your reflexes were better,” she says, and by way of apology, lobs a packet of sour gummies more gracefully on his lap. “Your favorite.”

“Apology accepted.”

From a plastic bag she fishes out two cokes and places them in the centre console, a bag of red licorice and crackers follow, also making their way onto his lap. She always buys too much food.

Then they’re turning back onto the highway that leads them out of where they paused at Monticello, the radio jacked up loud enough to be heard over the tiny droplets of raindrops sporadically hitting the windshield.

They’ve left early enough that it’s still dark.

Fog still hangs low on the roadside, intangible pale wisps that seem to disintegrate upon crossing, the road dotted with other travellers, but not too crowded, enough so they can easily cruise the speed limit and sometimes over. The Bangles play on a cassette tape and, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel, May looks so carefree, driving her sentimental car with the noisy engine, singing along to the same cassettes she’s had since she was his age.

Peter can’t bring himself to say what he wants to. About the letters. One in particular. He knows something isn't right but who is he to break the peace?

So, he doesn’t and they keep driving.

The fog lifts and the tunes continue, both of them singing familiar tunes from ABBA to George Michael and Peter let’s go of what he can’t control and loses himself in the buoyancy of nostalgia - neither of them can carry a tune for shit and it’s funny, and when he rolls his window down he sticks his hand out to feel the frigid air, it’s the most free he’s felt in a long time.

Football and his after-school duties and everything else just drifts away with the wind, at least for this moment.

It was like when he was a kid. The route itself is mostly dark and dull, and this time without Ben, but their usual car games of ‘dollar every time you spot a windmill’ and ‘how many minutes until the next town’ are fun and easily pass the time. This will be another memory that he will gloss over with fondness, how even the boring roads will seem like rapture.

When the sky starts to turn from black to grey they stop for early breakfast at a diner just slightly off their trail in Windsor, both of them famished despite the hoard of snacks and in dire need of coffee.

The car is beginning to emit pale plumes of smoke from under the hood as they arrive at Davis Grove, Otisco Lake in the early morning. The sun rises low over the horizon, a slow ascent that turns the sky grey and brushes wriggling streaks of color over the lake.

The house is exactly as Peter remembers it.

Panels painted slate blue, brown-tiled roof. Two-storeys with a wrap-around porch and a private dock only a short distance away from the entrance. A swinging chair on the lawn that comfortably fits three and a half people.

It looks exactly as it did when Peter first came here as a kid, plucked straight out of his memories in perfect form, like it was set in a liminal space that time refused to touch. A piece comes back to his being at this moment, something that he didn’t know was missing.

Aunt Margaret is already standing at the door when the pull up. She doesn’t look a day older than when Peter last saw her years ago.

“Oh, look at you,” she coos, wrapping Peter up in a tight hug, curls brushing his cheek, “my darling little Petey-pie.”

“Hey, Aunt Margaret,” he returns the hug.

“You’re so tall now, let me look at you,” she holds him at arm's length, warm eyes roving over his form. “Oh my goodness, haven’t you grown a handsome young man? Last time we met you only came up to my shoulders and had braces.” She turns her attention to May. “Isn’t he handsome?”

His aunt nods, smiling at them, both women gravitating into a tight embrace. “It’s good to see you, Peggy. Thanks for having us.”

“Our pleasure. You look even more beautiful than the last time.”

“Oh, stop,” May releases her, wiping at her eyes. “Look who’s talking.”

She tilts her head to the porch and takes May’s duffle from where she has dropped it to the ground. “Come on you two, inside. We’ve got the fire going and scrambled eggs on the table.”

Inside it smells like the best parts of his childhood. A burning fire and butterscotch and lingering musky-but-floral scent from the bowl of potpourri high on the mantel. Even the sounds are the same, the same coo of early birds in the burgeoning daylight, someone humming by the stove.

Margaret leads them into the living room, where her husband meets them halfway from the kitchen, oven mitts still on his hands when he spreads his arms wide to welcome them.

“My goodness,” he beams, “look what the cat dragged in.”

He wears a cravat at the same time he wears an apron, looking every bit the formal yet whimsical man Peter remembers him to be and a crushing wave of nostalgia comes over him so suddenly he can’t help but rush forward and embrace him.

“Welcome, Peter. It’s so good to have you here.”

“Thanks for having us, Uncle Ed.”

“What have you taught him,” he points his query to May as he releases Peter to hug her. “You know you can call me Jarvis.”

---

Margaret ‘Peggy’ Carter and Edwin Jarvis had been young twenty-somethings when they first met. Both were born in England before moving to the US, but it wasn’t until they met at Margaret’s first college that their paths crossed. They worked in different departments, Peter thinks Ed was an engineer or something and Margaret an analyst, but the universe pulled them together eventually.

Margaret asked Ed out first and then a year later, May was the maid-of-honor at their wedding and Ben was reportedly a teary guest in the squeaky church pews.

And the rest, as they say, was history.

A photo of that day sits framed upon the mantle. May and Margaret have their arms around each other, Uncle Ben and Ed standing awkwardly at the sides of the frame, holding up flutes of champagne.

They look so young. Happy.

Peter observes the photo, smiling. He would have been a baby back then. Before his parents and Ben had -- well.

His mind does these weird calculations sometimes. Like, the May in this photo is only nine or so years older than how old he is now, and this moment, suspended in time, makes them closer than they have ever been, even though in real life they are over twenty years apart.

Looking at this picture, it makes him wonder how many people he knows now will live full lives and die of old age. How many people his age will stay forever young, and who will be in the future looking back at their time now, wistfully staring at pictures of those who only exist suspended in that time.

It’s funny, being a teenager. His peers are too young to die so they assume they won't. Even in their twenties and thirties or forties, death seems like an elusive thing that doesn’t apply to anybody until it does. It’s for the decrepit, the sick.

But in Peter’s case death comes like poorly aimed darts, always landing badly and scoring low. In his pockets, his hands turn in fists. He hopes the three people left alive in this picture get to grow old.

He smells her perfume before he sees her. Margaret approaches, bumping their hips together.

“This was a nice day,” she says softly, wistful. “I wish we’d kept more contact over these last few years.”

“Me too,” he smiles sadly, her expression reflecting his. With a hand on his back she leads him to the couch.

“Come on, munchkin, come sit. Tell me how you have been.”

---

“We weren’t planning on the big dinner,” Uncle Ed says as he finishes peeling a potato, handing it to Peter once he’s done. “But we’re so glad you two joined us. Neither of us have a lot of family here, you know.”

“Us neither,” Peter runs the peeled potato under running water to rid it of dirty residue before chopping it into quarters. “It’s really nice to see you again, it’s been way too long.”

“You really have grown into such a nice young man,” the man smiles. “Ben would be proud. Your parent’s, too.”

“Thank you.”

They haven’t got together like this since Ben died a couple years back. It wasn’t really anyone’s fault. Shit happened and it got harder to try. May got busier with looking after Peter full time and working more - and Uncle Ed quit his job and opened up a garage and Margaret lost a baby - all at the same time.

It was a lot for everyone. Even college best friends moved apart when fate put up walls at every turn.

It seems everyone in his circle is just does their best to survive. Or maybe that’s just what growing up is.

The remainder of their morning is spent eyeing the oven and skedaddling while Margaret prepares her pecan pie, ejecting them out of the kitchen with a forceful shoo.

“May says you’re playing football,” Ed says, leading him out to the lounge, passing him a can of soda. “How’d that happen? Last I checked you were doing splits over a pommel horse.”

Peter shrugs, tapping his can with his fingernails, idly paying attention to the football on the old TV. “Needed an extra-curricular, there was an opening and for some reason they accepted me.”

“You were so good at gymnastics,” Margaret comments from the kitchen, whisking away at her bowl. “I’m sure you’re exemplary in anything you do. They’re lucky to have you.”

“Yeah,” Peter says, sculling back the rest of his drink, bubbles burning down his throat. “Looks good on college applications in any case.”

“This kid,” May points to him with her beer bottle. “He does it all, I don’t even know how. He’s brilliant.”

I could do more, he thinks. He wonders again in that moment what it is that makes him so deficient that May couldn’t rely on him to accept the truth about their situation, that maybe he was just too naive. But he’s not. He’d drop his after-school activities and get a job in a hot second if he thought it would help. And for just a split-second he’s mad about that, about being kept in the dark.

But then he sees the strain around her eyes, how the bottle in her hands trembles ever so slightly, how much she makes the hard world soft around them. And it’s easy for him to let that feeling go.

“You’re still freelancing?” Peter asks Margaret, momentarily distracted when Ed’s phone lights up with a call.

“Excuse me, terribly sorry,” he says suddenly, picking up the phone and answering it, rising to his feet to converse in the adjacent room.

“Yes,” Margaret says, eyes lingering over where her husband has gone, his voice carrying over the walls in worried, muffled tones. “Well, consulting. I can work from home, which makes it easier to take care of all my non-existent children,” she gestures to the empty room around them.

“You could go work with Jarvis,” May retrieves a new bottle, popping the cap. “Look after the books, help him replace tyres.”

“Tempting,” Margaret says dully, rolling her eyes. “Can’t understand why I haven’t done that yet.”

Jarvis re-enters minutes later, hands held out apologetically; whispering to Margaret first before he addresses the room.

“Um, we have another guest coming up for dinner, if that’s alright,” he winces at their blank faces. “He works for me. Has a difficult family arrangement and needs a bit of respite. You know how it gets over the holidays.”

Peter meets May’s eyes and shrugs. Anyone working under the business and is vouched for by his surrogate uncle is good by him.

“The more the merrier,” May raises her bottle.

After that, the kitchen needs his hands again.

---

The afternoon is spent preparing the sides, checking in on the truly gargantuan turkey and indulging their cat with nibbles and head scratches. May and Margaret spend the time drinking beer and cider, reminiscing their college years. It’s nice to hear the house full of laughter, given how somber the mood was when they were last all together.

“When did you get a cat?” Peter directs his question to Jarvis, accepting a peeler from him to attack the carrots.

The cat in question is completely black and delightfully plump, not overly so, but enough to indicate it’s decently fed but probably also a little lazy. Or maybe he just thinks that now that it lies tall on the peak on its scratching post, tail flicking idly while it watches them work tirelessly in the kitchen from above.

“Oh, about a year ago. Gives Peggy some company while I'm in the garage. She’s a sweetheart, this one.”

“What’s her name?”

“Friday the Thirteenth. Friday for short.”

“That’s, um, unique.”

“Was the day we adopted her,” Jarvis reaches up to scratch her. “And she’s a black cat, so, you know; spooky.”

Peter tilts his head to the side, considering it. “I like it.”

“Not bad, huh.”

“Yep. It’s a better name than Molly,” he mutters, shaking a slimy carrot shaving off his fingers.

Jarvis pauses. “As in Ringwald?”

Peter sighs and continues peeling.

----

“Did I ever tell you about the time May came to class in a bathing suit?”

“I don’t think they need to hear that --”

“So we have this exam,” Peggy says, ignoring May, “Super important. Fifty percent of our overall grade. She comes in late, dripping wet, the biggest hickey on her neck I have ever seen --”

“Peggy.”

“-- Only thing saving her modesty was Ben’s shirt over her shoulders. I had to lend her a pen so she could sit the exam.”

“Did you pass though,” Peter asks curiously, shovelling a large lump of mashed potato into his mouth.

“Top grades,” she winks at him.

“She sat there for two hours, dripping water onto the ground and got flying colors. Meanwhile I’m the idiot who studied for weeks and got marked down twenty points for --”

The end of her sentence gets cut off by the sound of a car approaching the property, headlights flashing through the windows.

Then, a knock at the door.

“Ah, that must be…” Ed trails off, wiping his hand on a napkin before standing. “Excuse me.”

He goes to answer the front door, Margaret continues her story albeit much more quietly until the voices of Ed and their guest filter through, becoming progressively louder.

“Sorry to intrude, I know it’s the holidays --”

Wait. That voice is familiar.

“Nonsense,” Ed interrupts, “you know you’re welcome anytime. You’re practically family, kid. Come in, we’re eating now, you’re just in time.”

Peter’s fork clangs loudly on his plate when he sees their visitor, unable to keep his grip on the utensil as his limbs start to tingle. He forgets how to breathe for a second, entire body going hot.

Ed’s arm is around Tony Stark and they’re approaching through the living room, heading right for them. There’s a fresh cut on his lip and an ugly, wreath of bruising around his jaw and neck, deeply purple, speckled spots of burst capillaries visible from even where he’s sitting.

The worst part isn’t the intrusion. It’s how Tony looks unlike himself; he looks small and skittish, gaze flicking nervously around the room, arms curled around his waist. Something in his chest starts to feel the closer he gets, weird, hot and unwieldy, burning, like a hot poker has been drawn across his sternum.

“You’re the best, Jar...vis,” Tony trails off when he spots the Parkers, eyes zeroing in on Peter.

“Um,” Peter says, sharing a surprised look with May, not knowing what else to say.

But then suddenly Tony is shaking his head, shrugging out of Ed’s embrace and backing up, the skittish look gone and replaced with anger.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. No fucking way.”

Then he turns, and leaves.

----

tagging: @bylerboyfriends @ravens-starker-stuff, @starker-rays, @ironspiderstarker, @muse-of-gods, @notfor-temporaryuse, @tabbycat1220, @sugarfreecult, @rebel13lion39, @plueschpop, @spideravocados, @jellybbunny, @booktrashme, @elfkido, @mycatislickingmybedsheets, @queerghostboyo, @disneyprincessdominatrix, @cherrygoldlove @starkerflowers@starkeristheendgame @thewolffearsher @starkersugar , @starkerforlife6969, @css1992, @parkerrbitch, @fuckmemrstark, @blankblankityblank, @ilovemoreid, @blaquedecember, @killmylonelysoul, @notfor-temporaryuse, @arvaen, @chaos-with-a-pen, @notnormallaura, @portiamarie02, @bloodymisanthropist, @ser-no-tonin, @staticwhispersinthedark

#starker #tony stark x peter parker #ironspider #high school au

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