#i bet he will continue to shift away from the ambiguous style of clothing

[goongiveusnothing]

Did you see the clip of him at James’ after party? He has such loser vibes. Same wiener energy as the ones in the Emrata video. He better figure out a way to melt his botox and go back to not looking like a creepy old druggie. My cousin, who is a massive harrie, is expressing displaced anger because she can’t cope so many people are saying he’s very ugly now. She’s been messaging people and telling them he doesn’t look like he smells - no one even brought that up lol - and if anyone looks old and weird it’s ot4. Now all of a sudden, this girl who knows a small few of his songs is saying that she’s only there as a fan of Harry’s music and artistry. She doesn’t care how he looks. She’s such a shit liar lol. Her tumblr account is all old pictures of him and reblogs of when he still looked good. She rarely posts current photos because they don’t look…. as pleasing hahahaha

Link to James video

https://twitter.com/hrrybland/status/1652049615879823360/mediaViewer?currentTweet=1652049615879823360&currentTweetUser=hrrybland

to me he gives off weird sad uncle energy. like that one uncle who always thought he was the most funny or interesting or crazy and they were just middle aged.

also fans are denying he's smoking and claiming it's just a toothpick, but why would he repeatedly need to put a toothpick to his mouth? who does that? just randomly singing and inserting a toothpick into your mouth? considering one person there said he was off his face on mushrooms it makes more sense it's drug or cigarette related.

i said his looks will be his downfall. he's also just cringe. the one consistent thing is how utterly mortifying his behaviour is and like i said, i feel like it was workable when he was an actual teenage boy, but he's almost 30 and he's still doing the exact same routines and cheeky child antics, it looks fucking weird. so i'm still predicting in a few years harry will not be able to sell as much and i also predict some of his hardcore fans who attend all his shows will be denying they were his biggest fans. we've already seen some do that already.

[kabira]

05 | job hunting

pairing — spider-man!vernon x ofc

featuring — joshua, yeji (itzy), felix (skz), yangyang (nct)

word count — 2.9k

genres — spider-man au, marvel au, fluff, action, angst, humor

warnings — none

note — so...you might have noticed some changes to the pairing. i’ve decided to go ahead and convert this to an x ofc fic because when it’s a 3rd person pov thing the ‘you’ pronoun kind of jumps out at you and it just sounds really unnatural lol. she’s been left race-ambiguous in the description, and she’s pretty cool, so i hope you like her !! even though she doesn’t show up very often djskalskjs

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Vernon stepped out into the open, finding himself on the highest level of the Helicarrier—not the top floor, but the deck itself.

The wind was strong, pushed by the rotator blades keeping the carrier in the air, and he shivered on feeling the sudden chill descend upon him. He hesitated, resting his palm against the side of one of the structures containing the blades, and glanced around. The aircraft was massive, big enough that despite being right next to the Quinjet runway, he couldn’t see any of the city beneath.

When he finally spotted White Tiger, she was sitting near the edge, mask in hand. At first, he was apprehensive about her being spotted, but when he got close enough, he realized they were way to high for anyone on the ground to be able to make out her features.

New York was easily a couple thousand feet below them, the tallest buildings looking like toy figurines from the high vantage point. The harbor glittered a dark blue-green underneath them, catching the dying light of the sunshine like little stars contained in the water. It was a breathtaking sight, so beautiful that it washed away Vernon’s initial fear as easily as a wave clearing away dug letters on a sandy beach.

He glanced at Yeji, pressing his teeth against his lower lip. She had her back to him, shoulders tensed—of course she would have heard him approach. Her hair was still up in a ponytail, but swayed lightly with the breeze. Even as he stood behind her, she said nothing, remaining silent and stony as she stared down at the view below.

“It’s nice up here,” he murmured. “Unless you have a crippling fear of heights, that is.”

Silence.

Vernon sighed to himself, slowly taking a seat next to her on the sun-heated deck, and pulled off his mask. The air was cool against his sweat-soaked skin, but did nothing to set his heart at ease. That was the hard part, one he had to figure out himself.

“So, White Tiger, huh?” he asked, scrunching up his nose as he looked at her sideways. Her chin rested on her folded forearms, which were balanced against her knees, legs crossed at the ankles. It should have been a relaxed posture, but her muscles were too tense, standing out like steel cables on her arms and sides. “Do your powers have anything to do with that jade amulet you wear?”

She unfolded herself, unconsciously touching the amulet that hung from one side of her gray belt. It was a vibrant green color, looking fragile like glass, but despite her generally offensive style of fighting, there wasn’t a single scratch on it. “It was my father’s,” she answered dully. “And my grandfather’s before him. The amulet is a family heirloom that passed down to me when the rest of my family died, and with it, the powers it bestows upon the bearer.”

“Oh,” he said, a little surprised. He hadn’t expected her to speak, but she had opened up, despite the still guarded tone of her voice. He pulled his knees up to his chest and looked out at the view, feeling calmer than before, but also a lot more awkward. “Are you afraid of the water?”

She glanced over at him, a confused scowl on her face. “What?”

“The water,” he repeated, indicating the harbor with a tilt of his head. “Aren’t cats supposed to be scared of water or something?”

Her eyes narrowed, but not before he caught the glimmer of amusement in them. “I’m not a cat,” she said. “The amulet gives me the agility and tenacity of a white tiger, but not all its fears. Are you afraid of house lizards, spider boy?”

“Well, one in particular.” He half-smiled. “But he’s back to human now, so I guess not really.”

She gave him a small smile back, one that indicated she got the joke. It wasn’t a big gesture, but it made him feel a bit better—which was funny, since he was the one supposed to be comforting her. He recalled Luce’s words from their earlier conversation. There’s no harm in being decent.

“Look,” he started, reaching up to rub the side of his neck, “I’m sorry about what I said back there. You said you knew I didn’t like you guys, but that’s not true. It’s just—it’s a sudden change,” he mumbled. “To have a whole team of supers in the school, and so soon after the—incident, it just set me off.”

She said nothing, waiting for him to continue. He shook his head. “You probably don’t know what happened a few weeks ago, and what happened, it’s not your fault. Heck, it doesn’t even have anything to do with you.” He laughed weakly. “The incident that took place, it followed a regular pattern I already should have known. When superhero stuff and real life mix, nothing good comes out of it. I wasn’t prepared for you guys, and I took it badly. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

Yeji hummed. For a few moments, they sat in silence, but it was a comfortable sort of silence. For Vernon, it felt good to get all of that off his chest. It was hard to admit to something because of his pride, but putting it out there made him feel a bit better. No one liked seeing their faults, but to him, it was better than hurting someone he didn’t really want to hurt. In a way, even the superheroes around him were innocent people who could become collateral damage.

“What incident?” she asked.

He glanced at her, a little confused. She stared back at him with her eyebrows arched, as if expecting him to say something. “Sorry, what?”

“I told you about my family, how I came to be in possession of my powers,” she said. “Your turn. What incident were you talking about?”

He bit the inside of his cheek, staring at her thoughtfully. “Do you know Harry Osborn?” he asked at length.

She nodded. “The Goblin—I mean, Norman Osborn’s son.” She gave him a curious look. “Wasn’t he at Midtown with you?”

“Yeah.” He looked away again, studying the lenses of his mask. Speaking about it was difficult, and he wasn’t too sure about instantly opening up about such a horrific incident to someone he had met two days ago, but his instinct told him he could trust White Tiger. Either way, there was no harm in talking about that day, at least not the general aspects of it. “And you probably also know about how Norman Osborn was taken down.”

She nodded again, slower this time, looking thoughtful. “Wasn’t there a bargaining chip of some kind involved?” she asked. “Wait, sorry. I meant a human hostage.”

“Yeah,” Vernon murmured. He hung his head, running his spandex-covered fingers over the cloth of his mask, swallowing hard against the sudden dryness in his throat, but it hurt to do that, like there was a thorn stuck in his flesh. “Long story short, Harry Osborn…well.”

Yeji glanced at him in surprised concern, and he looked away, avoiding her gaze. Now would come the pitying glance, the awkward condolences, the unsure silence. He had had enough of that in the past few weeks.

“I get it,” she said, to his immense surprise. When he looked back at her, her eyes were sad, but there was a firmness beneath them, like stable ground at the bottom of the river. Even if she didn’t quite know all the details, they both spoke the language of loss, and it didn’t need words to be understood.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he said.

“I won’t.” She turned her face away, towards the sky, and he followed suit. The silence this time was more than comfortable, it was comforting. “No more details?”

Despite himself, he smiled. “Not yet,” he replied. “You have to get past level twenty first.”

She snorted a laugh. “I don’t really play video games,” she answered. “It’s a little difficult to fit in when you live in the same quarters as a couple of teenage boys, but I can’t do anything about it.”

“Really? You can drop by after school sometimes and I’ll show you.” He grinned, then grimaced. “Or maybe Aunt May can. I’m not the best at them, she kicks my butt on Night game night every time.”

“She sounds amazing already. I can’t wait to meet her,” Yeji said, smiling. “And while we’re on the subject of family—argh, I’m totally going to sound like Agent Fox, but here’s the thing.” She shifted her weight, sitting with her legs crisscrossed. “I know it’s hard to deal with loss, and that it’s different for everybody, but protectors feel guilt on a different level than everybody else—and you can’t carry that kind of weight around with you.”

Vernon picked at a small cut on the leg of his costume. “Agent Fox,” he repeated. “You too, huh?”

Yeji winced. “Therapists aren’t really equipped to deal with our kind of experiences,” she said. “I mean, what do you say to someone who had to physically fight their best friend’s dad because he turned into a genetically enhanced green monster?”

He laughed.

“Agent Fox might not be your best bet, but there are other things you can try,” she continued. “I know you probably don’t want some kind of preachy advice, but for me, being White Tiger helped.” She ran her fingers along the grooves of her amulet again, as if deriving comfort through its touch. “Doing something, even little things that just keep your mind off the past, it helps.”

He thought back to Luce’s words. “Like getting a job?”

Yeji frowned. “I guess,” she said. “If it doesn’t take over your time as Spider-Man, that is.”

“That’s twice in a day someone’s advised me to get a job,” he said. “Maybe I really should go ahead and get one.”

“Maybe you should,” she agreed. “But I have a feeling most normal jobs won’t interest you. If you’re going to work, might as well work on something you’ll enjoy.”

“Don’t worry,” he said, the gears of his brain already having been kicked into action. “I think I already have something in mind.”

The last time Vernon had met Dr. Curt Connors, it had been as Spider-Man.

It was not an experience he had particularly enjoyed, since it had been one of his bigger fights had had left him with a hairline fracture and a few bruised ribs, holed up in his room for a week to nurse himself. Gym had been worse than usual that Tuesday.

As he pushed through the revolving doors at the entrance of Roxxon Industries, he was already beginning to regret his decision a little bit. Sure, there was no way that Dr. Connors could know his secret alter ego, but the knowledge didn’t help his nervousness one bit.

Plus, with Oscorp pretty much in ruins, the research scientist had shifted his work to a different corporation, and Vernon didn’t know his way around the new building at all. It was a tiny thing to be so worried about, especially for a person who had faced Doc Ock at the age of sixteen, but even the little things seemed big now that he was out job hunting.

Vernon clutched his father’s briefcase tighter, taking his visitor’s pass from the front desk and heading up the escalator to the designated room. Dr. Connors had met Vernon Parker exactly once before, when the latter had shown up at his old laboratory asking about his father, Richard Parker, Connors’s former colleague.

Back then, their conversation had been cut short by a Spidey emergency, and after that the only time he’d been able to see the doctor was while battling him as the Lizard. Vernon had been too afraid to go back afterwards, scared of the decades old formula Connors had developed which turned him into the monster, and what he might discover about his father’s work.

But Dr. Connors had made him a proposal that the boy remembered three months later—that Vernon was always welcome to come work at his lab. Now, the idea of being a simple research assistant didn’t sound very great, especially when the project was so controversial that its funding had been hanging by a thread even at Oscorp, where they weren’t exactly known for their safe experiments. However, biophysics had always been fascinating to him, not to mention the fact that it was his father’s legacy.

He guessed it was about time he went back to claim it.

Vernon stood in front of the door awkwardly, unsure what he was going to say. But he lifted his hand, and he knocked.

“Come in,” came the doctor’s voice from behind the door, and Vernon took a deep breath before pushing the door open and stepping inside.

The room was bigger than he had expected it to be. It definitely wasn’t just an office, with multiple tables and various small instruments and charts held down by random objects acting as paper weights spread across them. Tall shelves lined the wall behind the main desk and the one opposite it, stuffed with old and new volumes. The doctor’s table itself was pushed into a corner to make way for everything else, but despite the packed space, everything was organized. It was a pattern Vernon knew from his own room: order in chaos.

Dr. Connors was standing behind his desk, reading through a paper on a clipboard in his hand. He looked up as Vernon entered, and a range of emotions flashed through his eyes when he saw him—first confusion, then recognition, then fear, then guilt. Finally, the doctor smiled, straightening as he placed the board back on his table.

“Vernon,” he said, and Vernon felt a thrill upon seeing that he remembered his name. “A face I haven’t seen in a long time.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.” Vernon tried to press his lips into a smile, but it probably looked more like a grimace. “I would have come by earlier, but what with midterms and everything happening in the city…” He hesitated. “I was just a little afraid, I guess.”

“I understand,” Dr. Connors said, and it wasn’t just an empty phrase, like he actually understood Vernon’s fear of facing his father’s past. But then, maybe he did. “I would have liked to see you again after our conversation was cut short, but perhaps a few months’ lapse in between was necessary.”

Vernon thought back to the Lizard incident a couple of months ago, when Dr. Connors had injected himself with an underdeveloped serum, turning himself into a giant lizard. “I read your recent article on the lizard formula,” he said slowly.

The doctor’s hand froze on the table for a moment, but relaxed just as quickly. He looked up at Vernon with a gentle sort of intelligence in his eyes, a look so different from the Lizard’s that he had trouble believing they could be the same person. “Did you, now?” he asked. “And what did you think of it?”

“Genius,” he breathed, and Dr. Connors’s eyes lit up even more. “I looked through my dad’s old papers, and cross-checked the changes with your research.” He opened his mouth and closed it again. Better get this over with quickly. “I know this must seem abrupt, but I wanted to ask you something.”

“Go on.” Dr. Connors inclined his head, gesturing at a seat with his good arm. The other one ended up to just above the elbow—a sight that reminded Vernon that it was the doctor himself who had been the first human trial for his cross-species grafting formula.

“The last time we met, you asked me to come work with you in your lab,” Vernon spoke slowly, hesitating between words. “And when I read your paper, I saw that you would continue to research further on the gene splicing and the, uh, the blood-brain barrier and—” He cut himself off, realizing that he had begun to ramble. “I was wondering, after last time, if you could—”

“Take you on in my lab for the research?” Dr. Connors completed his question for him, positively beaming. “Of course! Your father was a genius, and you follow in his stead. It would be a great advantage to have you on the team.” His smile faltered a little. “And then, even after all these years, I owe him my life and its work,” he added in a lower voice. “I’d be glad to have you.”

“Really?” Vernon looked at him with rounded eyes, clutching the case tightly enough that the skin of his knuckles paled. “I—wow. Thanks, Dr. Connors.”

Dr. Connors shook his head. “There will always be a place for Richard Parker’s son at my lab,” he said. “If you’re free, I could show you around the lab now, just so you get the feel of the place. Unless, of course, you’re busy right now, in which case you could swing by later.”

Vernon laughed, relieved and gratified and ridiculously happy. “I have all the time in the world.”

“Great,” Dr. Connors said. “When can you start?”