#i need to stop ranting about the same thing a dozen times but ahhhh

[tuiyla]

leighton: she was so into tatum and now those feelings have just flown right out the window, huh? and i was one of the people who actually liked alicia and her together back in s1 but god was it really necessary to just throw her back into the loop in the last couple episodes like that- and if they knew they were going to do that all along, why make tatum so cool and sweet and into leighton? i get what they were trying to portray through her character, i do, i just think it's fucking stupid -dan

I was fuming about this in the shower so let me repeat myself for the 15th time today: I get what they were going for, it just didn't work.

Because you're so right, Tatum's been nothing but agreeable and supportive and clearly very into Leighton for herself and then she's a little bitchy at the fundraiser and that's it? Way to throw such a cool character under the bus. And exactly, if they were going to do this then why. Why have two back-to-back episodes where she reassures Leighton and acts so cool and supportive. Tatum did not deserve to be dumped for saying things that were still nicer than Leighton herself did last season.

And that annoys me too, that it's supposed to be this ch defining moment for Leighton where she rejects her old life and embraces how she's grown. But, dare I ask, wouldn't part of that be showing Tatum just a little more empathy and patience: We had no indication that Tatum reminded her of things she now dislikes about herself, no indication that she's been missing the women's center folks at all, just overall no signs of the development that got started off last season continuing. And I've been fine with that because I thought we were focusing more on Leighton accepting and exploring herself this season. And I'm right because we have been, but then episode 9 just acts like we've missed an episode (or eight). It picks up where we left Leighton re: her social awareness last season except it pretends that she's been quietly working on that all semester.

It feels so lazy, dare I say Glee levels lazy to be pretending Leighton ever mentioned her women's center friends this season or that there was any leadup to her being uncomfortable with the reflection she saw in Tatum. Nada. It honestly feels disrespectful to then come in with this, and had it been actually built up to I would have been like, fine with the concept. It is a little uninspired to use Tatum purely as a foil for Leighton who helps her realize she's changed and she likes it, but fine whatever. But that's not what we've been building with this twincest thing! We've been portraying Tatum as nothing but a supportive partner who's the more self-assured and confident version of Leighton. And instead of having that be aspiring, or god forbid nuanced, she's dismissed as the basic bitch Leighton doesn't want to be anymore.

Feels like there's such a disconnect between season 1 Leighton, season 2 eps 1 to 8 Leighton, and what eps 9 and 10 suddenly decided to focus on. I don't hate where we end with her at all but with the other girls the writers at least dared to be open-ended. Leighton's story feels almost too clean-cut and especially because it was so rushed. Woke Leighton feels so unearned this way and no me gusta. And now that I've ranted enough about that and hijacked your ask, I'll also just say that this makes the Kappa conclusion a little bittersweet too. As a result of ep 9 that didn't feel organic either and such a damn shame because it was such an important milestone for Leighton. I still adored the scene with her and Mrs Murray tho 😭 That was so cute I legit cried. What did you think? I'm so curious. The Murrays are still somewhat dysfunctional but it's heartwarming to see that despite that they are supportive and love Leighton no matter what. That shit is so important and I'm glad our girl gets that. I'll go cry about it some more.

In general I am happy Leighton's happy but it's almost as if, with Bela I'm satisfied with her story despite it being sad and with Leighton I can't fully be happy for her happiness because it feels so clunky. I don't mind Alicia at all and like I say I am happy for Leighton but god, did we really have to speedrun through all this in two episodes? Would it have hurt to have any buildup in previous eps? Why did they do Tatum so dirty literally only in her very last scene?? Feels so disjointed from the rest of the season smh. And they were willing to leave the other girlies on cliffhangers so I really don't get why Leighton's ending needed to be such a speedrun. I'm mourning Tatum but Leighton herself was done dirty. Anyway at least we have the Murrays scenes. Please tell me those are a consolation for you too haha.

[spiderman-homecomeme]

day six - off the record

ENEMIES TO LOVERS

A/N: DAY SIX!! AHHHH I can’t believe we’re here already and that tomorrow’s the last day. It’s been so fun seeing what everyone’s been posting, and I am so excited for tomorrow and sunday when I can finally be free to read ALL OF THEM AH

This fic is going to be a short little multi-chap journalist au! It was originally going to be just one long one shot, but then I changed my mind lol

Thanks again @spideychelleweek​!!

Read here or on AO3

-

The anger Michelle feels right in this moment is no stranger to her.

It’s boiling hot, bubbling just under the surface of her skin, and she hides it under a thinning veil of nonchalance. She walks with purpose down the hall, far away from Mr. Jameson’s office, her footsteps echoing sharply.

The day had started out like any other, boring, uneventful, still a chance for it not to turn into a shitstorm. After writing her most successful article to date for the Daily Bugle’s website—one concerning a certain masked vigilante-slash-menace and his fight with a one Aleksei Systevich and the million dollars of damage that was brought onto Rockefeller Center as a result of said fight—Michelle had assumed that the hundreds of thousands of hits and the out pour of response from the readers, that she would be able to move on. 

That she wouldn’t be stuck in this Groundhog Day time-loop of writing article after article about the dumb webhead.

Normally, hearing that the website was doing so well might make her happy. She might celebrate that every front page piece of writing is hers, her name under every article right at the top. Then again, the only reason they’re doing so well, and the only reason she’s consistently getting the top spot, is by slandering some idiot’s image. 

Or rather, in this case, libeling some idiot’s image. 

This job was supposed to be a stepping stone for something else, something better. Something that would launch her into the higher world of journalism. There’s this underlying feeling, one that tells her that this is only temporary. That this can lead to bigger and better things. 

Though, part of her doesn’t think spending precious time writing sensationalized, gotcha-pieces is what’s going to help her.

But Jameson had said otherwise. He said that this was exactly what the people wanted, not the boring political think-pieces that she wanted to write about. The people want drama, he’d said. They want to be angry, he’d said IN ALL CAPS, his seemingly permanent speaking voice. He had turned her down when she’d asked if she could write something else, almost immediately, and instead, emailed her yet another folder of Spider-Man pictures that Peter Parker had sent him earlier. 

God. Peter Parker. 

Just thinking the name makes the burning anger within her flare; makes her stomach twist into stinging knots. Her jaw clenches as she thinks about how this is all technically his fault. Sure, she could very well be forced into writing the articles without the pictures, but apparently, it’s the pictures and her punny, scathing titles that grab the reader’s attention. It all really took off when they got that first up-close-and-personal shot. 

And then, come to think of it—though she’s not sure how or why Parker knows Spider-Man, and frankly she doesn’t care to know—why on earth would one of “Earth’s Mightiest (ha) Heroes” keep letting this guy take his pictures if he’s just giving them to the news site that’s going to keep roasting him alive? It didn’t make a lick of sense. And if it’s just a matter of ignorance, how could he possibly not realize that was going on?

Something’s not adding up.

But then again, she doesn’t have time to follow that suspicion. Apparently, she’s got another article to write. Due by the Monday of next week, eight o’ clock in the morning on the dot in Jameson’s inbox. 

She has the rest of this Friday evening and a whole weekend. 

Closing her eyes, setting her jaw, she comes to the elevator, her hand just missing the button in her haste. The faint, slightly-off-pitch ding from the door opening forces her eyes open again, and truly, she’d rather just close them again and wait for the next one than get in. 

Right in front of her, eyes widening a fraction in surprise before narrowing ever so slightly, is who she considers might the actual devil himself.

Peter Parker stares at her a moment before quickly ripping his gaze away. “Evening, Ms. Jones.” He says, mostly out of what she assumes is an attempt at being polite, as he stares down at his shoes.

She decides it’s not worth waiting, wanting to just go home and get this damn article over with so she can go on to write the next. And the next. And the next. 

“Evening,” she replies with a curt nod, responding not because she wants the last word—it’s nothing like that at all—but simply out of the desire not to be perceived as rude. 

He stands there, shifting on his feet. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see his thumb tapping rhythmically against the strap of his messenger bag as he glances up at the ceiling. It’s something so quiet, yet as far as she’s concerned, it brings the same effect as nails on a chalkboard to her ears. 

“Heading home?” He asks after a crushing beat, starting to reach for the buttons along the wall to close the door.

“Yep,” Is her one word reply, and she leaves it at that, emphasizing the p with a final pop. 

Michelle doesn’t hear any response, and sees him give a single nod when she passes a fleeting side-eyed glance. They both stare straight ahead as the doors close in front of them. The elevator kicks to life, beginning the long downward descent to the ground floor. Peter clears his throat, once again a noise that grates on her ears. 

The air in the small box is thick. Heavy. Though she can’t see his face, and though he may try and hide it behind a forced smile, she knows the same disdain is there. And how could it not be? He’s clearly friends with the man she’s been writing about, being his photographer and what not, and it would explain the withering glares he throws at her after each new article is released when he thinks she’s not looking. 

It’s not as if she’s watching him, though. It’s nothing like that. She’s merely being observant. 

And besides, she couldn’t care less how he actually feels about her behind the heated stares and the dramatic clenches of his jaw. It’s not her problem. It’s not something she needs to concern herself with. 

Peter Parker is the least of her worries. 

In her peripheral vision, she sees him rock back on his heels, looking down at his watch. He blows out a harsh puff of air, shaking his head. 

God, he’s thinking so loud, she wishes she could tell him to shut the hell up. 

“Got a long weekend?” He asks out of the blue, shattering the brick wall of silence between them. There’s a slight pointedness to his question, and she swears there’s a hint of humor in his tone as if he knows all about this assignment she’s just been given. He knows damn well that he’s the reason she’s so miserable. 

For a moment, she doesn’t answer. Perhaps she can pretend she hasn’t heard him. “Nope.” Again, she gives the single-word answer, nothing more. His attempt at conversation just to seem polite is laughable. 

Whether or not he’s satisfied with her answer, she doesn’t bother finding out, and she doesn’t care. The door opens with another ding, and she’s out before he can make any other sad attempt. 

--

“Okay, Grumpy,” Ned says as he passes a beer to his best friend across the table. 

Peter looks up at him, his lips pulled into a frown. “Grumpy? What are you talking about?”

“We’re really gonna do this right now?” 

“Do what?” Peter’s brow pinches together as his head jerks back in surprise. “I’m fine.”

Ned gives him a pointed look. 

A beat passes before Peter finally relents, sinking back against the booth in the crowded bar. “It’s Michelle. From work.”

“I’m aware of who Michelle is, yes,” Ned gives a slow nod. 

Peter shakes his head, leaning forward, bracing his elbows on the table. “It’s just—I know she’s writing another article about me—about Spider-Man. And I guess I get that it’s her job and all, but… You’d think she’d turn it down after the first dozen, you know? Like, yeah, we get it. New York gets it. Spidey’s a menace. All the help he does actually causes a lot of damage. Sure, I could probably stop giving Jameson the pictures, but... I need this job. And... And I don’t think that’d actually help.” 

Ned nods slowly, listening to his friend rant. 

“And—and, yeah, maybe she’s writing all this shit to please Jameson, and maybe she doesn’t actually believe anything she writes but… why keep doing it?”

“Maybe he won’t let her?” Ned suggests. 

“Nah.” Peter waves that idea off. “Jameson worships the ground she walks on. She can do no wrong in his eyes apparently. Meanwhile, I give him amazing shots of Spider-Man that he can just have her completely shit on, and I do it all without complaining.”

Again, Ned gives him a pointed, questioning look.

“This is different!”

“Uh-huh.” Ned’s lips press together into a thin line as he stares at his beer in contemplation. Finally, after a moment, he speaks. “Did you ever think about… asking her to stop writing them?”

Peter frowns, brow furrowing. “Asking her? Absolutely not. She’d say no. No—she wouldn’t even let me ask. She seems to hate me for some reason? Like—” He pauses, taking a breath. “Today. In the elevator. I was trying to be nice to her. Trying to be polite. I tried to make conversation with her and she just blew me off.” He scoffs, taking a swig of his beer. “And besides, if I ask her to stop writing those articles about Spider-Man, she’s gonna find out I’m Spider-Man.”

Ned purses his lips, nodding solemnly. “I mean,” he takes a drink of his beer. “Maybe if she didn’t hate you, you could ask.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know why she hates me. That’s the problem.”

“Dude, I doubt you’ll ever find out why if you don’t talk to her.”

“Did you not hear me?” Peter asks, exasperated. “I tried talking to her.”

“Well, maybe don’t start with talking,” Ned continues. “If she hates your guts like you say she does, you can’t just walk up to her all ‘oh, hi Ms. Jones! How’s your day?’” Ned shrugs. “I guess what I’m saying is… just be… friendly? Be yourself. Don’t… try so hard. To her, it’s probably coming across as fake.”

Peter sits back again, mouth set in deep thought. 

“You’re a great guy, Peter,” Ned says genuinely. “And my best friend. She’ll see that if you just… don’t be a dick.”

At that, Peter laughs for the first time that night. “Thanks, Ned.” In spite of his sour mood, the small grin that forms on his face stays. 

“No problem, man,” Ned shrugs. “So, movies this weekend…”

As Ned continues, Peter picks at his thumb, twiddling his fingers, contemplating. As much as he hates to admit it, his best friend is right. He’s not going to get anywhere with Michelle if she keeps hating him, and even if he might not understand why, he needs to at least make an effort to not fuel that fire with whatever the hell he does that bothers her. 

No, if he wants those articles of Spider-Man to stop one) he should stop supplying pictures for Jameson and maybe try something else, and two) become friends with her and just ask. He knows it’s not going to be easy, but at this point, he’s willing to try anything. 

And as his friend is talking, he can see the memory from earlier today, the one of her steely glare that she thought he couldn’t see as she stormed out of the elevator. The way her eyes had made his stomach turn and flip, his face growing unbearably hot. 

God, this is gonna be hard. 

--

Michelle can barely hear Betty’s voice from the kitchen asking whether or not she wanted the chardonnay or the riesling over the sound of her furious typing. It’s been only three hours since she got home, and she’s already flying through this article. 

Truly, it’s not difficult writing, the scathing libel. It takes skill, sure, but this has never felt like something she put one-hundred percent into. Though, now, as she’s begun to run out of different insults and turns of phrase to throw at this hero, she’s beginning to reconsider her original judgement. 

“Here.”

Betty’s voice suddenly close by—accompanied by the sound of a wine glass clacking onto the coffee table—startles her out of her writing trance. 

“Got you the riesling.” Betty throws a soft smile before sitting herself on the other side of the couch. 

Michelle returns the expression, though it takes some effort, before reaching for her drink. “Thanks,” she mutters before taking a sip.

“Anytime,” Betty grins again. “Jameson got you writing another one?”

Michelle glances down at her laptop before running a stressed hand through her hair. “Yeah. Yeah he is.” 

“Did you—”

“—Yes. I asked him. Again. Today.” Michelle answers before Betty can even finish the question. “And, as usual. He said no. Apparently, the internet doesn’t care about things that are actually important.”

Betty cringes, pulling her legs up under her. “Sorry.”

Michelle lets out a half-hearted laugh. “It’s fine. I mean, it’s not. But what’s one more, right?” She shrugs. “At this point, I’d have to find something bigger than Spider-Man to get the masses all up in arms.”

Betty weighs that statement, squinting one eye. “What’s bigger than Spider-Man?”

“The Avengers, probably,” Michelle answers easily. “I don’t know. Jameson really hates Spider-Man. Like really hates him. Probably more than he hates his wife, I’m guessing. If I wanna stop writing about Spider-Man, I have to write the most sensational, stupid, dramatic article ever written.”

At that, Betty gives a half-smile, before her eyes go wide, a light bulb appearing above her head. 

“What?” Michelle asks warily. 

“What if you found out who he really is?”

“Who? Spider-Man?”

“Spider-Man.”

It’s Michelle’s turn to be skeptical. “You really think I can figure that out?”

Betty gives her a deadpan stare. “Please, you know you can.”

Michelle looks down at her hands. “I mean, yeah. I probably could. Eventually. But—” She tilts her head from side to side. She opens her mouth to continue before clamping her mouth shut, sitting straight up. “Peter Parker knows Spider-Man.”

“Yeah, he’s the guy who gets all the pictures, right?”

“Right.” Michelle puts her laptop on the couch, standing up slowly. “If I can get him to introduce me, and then interview Spidey, I could definitely figure it out.”

“But you guys hate each other,” Betty points out.

“Well… Yeah, but—” Michelle starts pacing. “Maybe if I were friends with him, or like… just vaguely rude acquaintances that are on relatively good terms, then maybe—maybe it could work?”

Betty’s lips twist thoughtfully as she watches her friend. “I mean, maybe. But MJ—” she cuts herself off. “If you’re gonna try and be friends with him…” She pauses. “You’re gonna have to be nice to him.” 

Michelle stares, deadpan, at her friend, unimpressed with the light teasing. “Yeah. I know. But—” She sighs. “It’s not permanent. As soon as I get that interview, we can go back to hating each other. It’s perfect.”

If all it took was being nice and polite, genuinely, then Michelle could certainly do it. No problem. She’ll kick this off right. She’ll show up at his office on Monday with coffee after she turns in this next article, they’ll talk things out, it’ll be great. Fast friends. 

Or, as she’d much prefer, vaguely rude acquaintances that are on relatively good terms. 

No, this wasn’t as hard as Betty was making it out to be. Michelle could be mature. She could make and enemy into a friend. Plus, she’s seen Peter when he’s not interacting with her. He smiles a lot, and when he laughs, the corners of his eyes wrinkle warmly. He’s always happy to joke with other coworkers. Always helping out with other projects.

Just a few things she’s observed about him. 

Other than him being an absolute dick. 

“You really think it’ll be that easy?” Betty asks, eyebrows raised skeptically. 

Michelle smirks, taking her wine glass in hand and taking a slow sip. 

“I really do.”