#like hot take???? but looking pretty doesn't make a film good. and ~it's a metaphor~ doesn't make it deep

[moonlightfilly]

everyone recommending The Banshees of Inisherin to us because “you’re Irish! it’s Irish! you should watch it! it’s absolutely brilliant!” and so we did and we didn’t like it lmao...

[castlebyersafterdark]

there seems to be a lot of talk about will byers x vines lately. some people called it 'vine play' and while im all for the horror coming on strong for our boi narratively, this had undertones of people enjoying the vines sexually lol. i KNOW that UD-adjacent ephemera can be read as metaphorical of CSA and by extension people read sexual choking kinks into the story, but considering how some people reacted to vecna (total desire, no acknowledgement of his evil antics), sometimes i wonder if there are people translating literally every serious element of the show into something a bit sexy and im like... what's left to scare you with lol? if being choked to death with vines is hot then what exactly about the season is going to raise the stakes and make you feel the peril etc etc

or perhaps its simply that meme online culture removes lots of immersiveness in shows these days. my sister actively asked me to send her voldemort-style memes of vecna in order to make him seem less scary, i was like GIRL i was desperate for the opposite effect when the show dropped lol

So much to unpack with this. I think firstly, things can be scary and sexy at the same time. This to me has always been a lot of the fun in horror and how horror and stuff of that nature cans serve both as a way to tap into fear and tap into fantasies, which can sometimes be scary themselves. There's always a lot of chatter about the intersection of trauma and kink and that's for sure a part of it. Or, you also don't need trauma to have a kink. And more or, it doesn't even have to be a kink - some concepts are just interesting and maybe not much does scare you just going into a show like this but you enjoy it and you take away a different element.

I don't really see a problem viewing what's happening in the story/on screen both as a sense of high stakes fear for what's going on while also in the back of your head simultaneously thinking 'he looks good with something wrapped around his throat as he chokes and strains under the vines.' It can be both!! We can totally acknowledge that.

I like Stranger Things so much because it serves multipurpose fictional interests - horror movie vibes, complicated mysteries, themes of friendship, the nostalgia setting, and romance / a coming of age sexuality story. So much to love, ticks multiple boxes for me. So, I can watch a scene and fear for Will and think Henry is terrifying but also want to see him wrap those vines tighter and watch as Will struggles and cries and looks pretty while doing so. And when you engage in the parts of fandom where the dark elements are dived into, it's a safe place to explore those dark elements if you so have an interest in the intersection of sex and kink and trauma and taboo and fears and horror. Whatever ingredients you want to add to your fandom corner smoothie. All valid!

And there are always going to be people who just care about the villain (and yes Henry/Vecna is the villain, why deny that? Some do) and erase the bad elements. That's the nature of fandom. And also, there's a lot of people who just... don't take anything seriously. Either they're jaded and need to appear unaffected and aloof from the media they interact with or need things to be catered to their agenda. I have friends who are super cool and they want to be included in things and say they have no problem with horror movies but when my squad gets together to watch fucked up films they make a fuss, want the lights on, try to joke throughout it like girl, can you be quiet and sit there or skip out on movie night if it's not actually your thing? The point is to be scared or horrified, it's a horror movie. So sometimes when people want nothing to do with the creepier aspects of Stranger Things I'm like, why engage??? Just my opinion.

[sebstanseabass]

Afterglow (A Bucky Barnes AU fan fiction) - Chapter 18

Afterglow chapters

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

NOTE: Third Person POV starts after this sign: " ✪ "

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

With Bucky, three short days felt like three months.

The next few days were spent oh-so-blisfully slow with Bucky constantly next to you, either naked or clothed. You were always at each other's skin and flesh the second you would close your laptop (you have been busy doing your end of the presentation you had to pitch in next week for Sam, after Steve gets you formally and officially fired). You’d be making out on the couch and soon afterwards, clothes flew around like money being tossed carelessly. No matter what the situation was, it always ended up with you naked, grasping each other's bodies, grazing each other's skin — in your bedroom, in the kitchen, in the shower, and on the living room floor. He wore you like a necklace, your thighs wrapped around his neck as you sat on the kitchen counter, him on his knees, devouring every bit of you. That time, you tried your best to stare at him as he ate you.

Tantalizing were his eyes, his mouth moving against your core. Legs shaking, you’d scream his name over and over again as you came all over his mouth, your screams clashing with the sounds of pots clanging against each other.

Then, you’d move to the shower where you had your thighs wrapped around his waist, your bare back against the bathroom's slippery walls as he thrusted inside you. His strong hands kept you steady the whole time as your legs trembled around him, making you weaker and weaker each second, like your knees had been struck by a wrecking ball.

He gave and he gave and he gave pleasure, riding you into your euphoria, into your oblivion. You were no longer the master of your body. You became his, as he was yours. You submitted fully to his godly control. The phrases "fuck, babydoll" and "you feel so fucking good" and "say my name, sweetheart" were forever etched in your brain. You kept the frustration of not being in control to yourself. You kept it all as he instructed you to say his name, say it louder until you could no longer remember yours, until you could no longer hear the dripping noise of the water droplets against the floor.

His face, the epitome of a god and a devil. A god that brought your voice and soul to heaven, so bright and glorious. And a devil that brought unholy things to your body.

As much as you had your thighs wrapped around him, you knew he had you wrapped around his finger. You knew it all too well.

Since then, you couldn't hear the clinking of utensils against each other or the faucet leaking or any kind of liquid dripping without seeing what Bucky looked like during those hours — knees on the ground, head between your thighs, body dripping with water along with your juices. And how he made you feel. God, the thought of him alone already brought you to heaven.

Afraid that you won't be able to get your mind (and body) off of Bucky, you texted Nat to meet you in a coffee shop a few blocks away from the apartment, hoping she could accompany you while working on the pitch deck. If you spent one more time with Bucky with your presentation undone you would be — well... Either way, you would be screwed.

This morning, you left a note on the nightstand, letting Bucky know you were with Nat. You planted a fleeting kiss on his forehead one last time, smiling at him, hating to leave his side, before heading out to meet with Nat who was almost an hour late, anyway. Still, you didn't get much done, missing Bucky's presence.

Then the hopes of getting your mind off my man went down the drain, hearing the clinking of glasses and the dripping liquid from espresso machines on the café counter. You bit your lip, staring at the laptop screen in front. Your screams echoed on the walls of your brain, together with morphed images of you and Bucky leaving your traces everywhere in the apartment, tainting lust everywhere. You bit your lower lip harder. A sudden rush of heat climbing on your body, from your toes, to your thighs, and your center.

Why didn't I just go to the public library?

"... Y/n? Hello? Earth to y/n?"

The images vanished like dust in the wind, and were replaced by Nat snapping her fingers on your face. Bucky's voice, together with yours that were echoing in your mind soon became faint street noise, along with the café's playlist. "Are you okay?" She asked. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

With your throat dry, you cleared your throat (which hurt even more). "Y-yeah." You finally managed to say. "Yeah, no, I was just having a tiny problem. You know what, I'm thirsty," You tapped a waitress' shoulder, "Hi, can I please have a glass of cold water? Thank you."

With that, she nodded and turned around, fetching what you needed. As soon as she handed you the glass, you immediately downed the whole thing but it still didn't quench your thirst.

"Is he riding you?"

You nearly choked on your water, hearing Nat's question. "W-what?"

"Sam Wilson. I mean, the work. With Sam?" Nat frowned, stirring her cup of coffee. "Is he?"

"Oh no, not at all! He's been really great and very appreciative." You replied. "But he has this assistant who's a complete total bitch. Even Bucky doesn't like her."

"Oohhh, interesting." she said. "Tell me all about it."

Thankfully, telling Nat about the meeting that happened three days ago did get your mind off Bucky. Highlighting the little banter you and Sharon had in line with the models and the whole marketing strategy was Nat's favorite. Of course, Nat lived for the drama. Especially if it were others'. To her, you were just characters on a television show. Now, all she needed was a bucket of popcorn.

"You should've seen the whole thing, Nat." You smirked. "The look on her face when Sam agreed with me? Priceless!"

"Wow, you ate her up." Nat chuckled. "Now, I'm sad I missed the show. If I were there, I would've taken a photo of her disappointed, sad ass and had it framed and had it hung on the bar. Steve would approve of it."

You raised your eyebrows, shaking your head. Even though that was pretty badass of you to do, Sharon was a woman living in a man's world and as you thought about that encounter, she was just doing her job. If she were a man, you would've still said the same thing. "Too harsh. A little cheer would suffice."

Nat rolled her eyes. "Like a woop, woop?"

"I mean not literally but sure. Whatever floats your little boat."

"Peter was right. You're a boring old hag." A sip of coffee. "Hey, how's the little skipper, anyway? I miss that little kid."

You fowned. She always had a nickname for Peter. If it's not skipper, it's slugger, or sport, or tiger, or any nickname for a kid you could think of. "You know he's just as young as I am, right?"

"The guy looks like a kid and sometimes acts like one." Nat pursed her lips, pointing it out. "So, when's he getting back from his corporate retreat?"

The last you heard from Peter was yesterday when he sent photos of him and the rest of his team somewhere by the lake. He looked a bit worn-out by the deep bags under his eyes but his wide smile said otherwise. Winston Schimdt was with him in all the photos, hair still perfectly gelled, spiking up in one direction. You wondered how much gel he always had to consume. And then felt sad for his sticky hair.

"Some time on Tuesday, I think." Then, you showed the photos to Nat who carelessly took the phone from your hands.

"Where on earth is this?"

You shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine. I couldn't even pin his location. It seems like he's literally off the radar."

"Maybe he's in a galaxy far, far away." Nat joked, remembering Peter's fondness for Star Wars. "What do you even do on a corporate retreat? Think about money?"

"I don't know but whatever it is, he says it'll help keep his mind off things." You said, leaving out the part that Peter was, dare you say, "lovesick." You honestly didn't mind telling it to her but you just knew that she'd ask you a bunch of questions you don't even know the answers to.

Nat nodded while scrolling mindlessly on your phone like it was her own. You tried to get it back but she gripped it tighter.

"Hope Bucky's taking care of you? Oh," she lifted her eyes back to yours, the light on your screen illuminating her smirking face, "he's taking care of you, alright. I heard you two haven't been able to keep your hands off each other. You're like... leeches."

"Ew. Think of another metaphor." You scrunched your nose up, cringing.

Nat took it way too seriously, thinking off into the far distance. "Barnacles on a boat?"

"No."

"Sorry, that's all I can think of."

You chuckled. "Where did you hear that, anyway?"

"I didn't."

"So, how did you — "

"Remember how you found out about me and Steve?" She cut you off.

You hid your face on your palms as soon as the realization dawned on you. "Oh no."

"Oh yes." She took another sip of her hot coffee, her eyes fixed on you. "Babydoll, you've been wearing him like a damn perfume since day one and you love it."

And just when you thought you had kept Bucky away from your mind, there he was again, slithering his way back. The images flashed back, like a montage in a romance film — however cliche that sounded.

"Well, I don't not love it." You shied away, looking down on your shoes which still had a tiny bit of mud from your previous running sessions.

"So, you two are dating now?"

You sheepishly nodded your head, avoiding her stare. You told her about that same day you had your meeting: Sam's confrontation and the conversation you and Bucky had that night. As much as you didn't want to put a label on things, and as much as you hated the god-awful "talk", you fat did it anyway, under the stars as you lied on your backs in that little tent of yours.

"Sometimes, I think," Bucky traced the stars in the pitch-black skies with his finger, "that the stars aligned for us." He finished by poking your nose which elicited a giggle from you. A weird sound you only used with Bucky, and for Bucky.

You turned around and wrapped your arm around his torso. "You're getting cheesier and cheesier each day, Mr. Barnes."

"You bring it out of me, doll." He chuckled.

"Hey, why do you call me doll?" You asked in a whisper. "I'm sure as hell do not look like one."

He looked at you and traced your jaw with his finger, the sensation sending shivers down your spine. "Dolls are sweet yet fun to play with. Remember when I made you that drink? You said it tasted fruity and minty — "

"Fruity and minty." You laughed, reminiscing.

"And I've never played with quite a doll before." Then, he met your eyes. "Then, you happened."

"When you say play, not like, playing with my feelings, right? 'Cause you know this doll can punch, James. I won't hesitate."

"Don't worry, y/n." he kissed the tip of your nose.

The word "dating" wasn't explicit at that moment, but you didn't need to, anyway. All you needed to hear from him was the next words he uttered:

"I won't give you any reason to."

"What have you guys been doing when you're not having sex, anyway?"

"Nat." You scolded but answered anyway. "We watch movies."

"Boring."

"Oh, you know what's a good movie?" You asked, ignoring Nat's little comment. "The Grand Budapest Hotel."

"It's Budapesht."

You tilted your head to the side, frowning. "I'm pretty sure it's Budapest. 'Cause y'know, Budapest is the Budabest."

"No. Budapesht." She insisted.

"Budapesht is the Budabesht?" She nodded. "Yeah, that doesn't sit right with me. I'm gonna stick with Budapest."

"Anyway... will you tell Peter about you two when he gets back from... wherever the hell he is?"

"Well, yeah of course. It's Parker." You replied, chewing your inner cheek. "But not right away." Bucky's words echoed in yours.

"Oh, you're gonna butter him up." Nat chuckled, finishing her cup of coffee. "I know how. Give him free drinks for life."

"Even if I wanted to, I can't 'cause last night was my last shift at the bar." You smiled proudly, thinking back to the last drink you ever made last night. Everyone was there to witness it — except Sam. When you sent the photos to Peter, you were bombarded with a series of questions that you promised to answer once he gets back.

"Oh, that reminds me!" Nat suddenly exclaimed, catching other people's attention, clearly annoyed with her. She stifled a giggle, looking away from them. "That reminds me." She said it quietly this time. "We're throwing you a little party tonight. Steve's idea."

"Like a surprise party?"

"Well, it's not a surprise anymore 'cause I blabbed. So, act surprised when you get there and finish up your presentation."

You posed no further questions, the idea of a surprise party warming your heart. You just smiled at Nat, and got back to the laptop screen. "Yes, ma'am."

Later that night, you did as you were instructed to do as you opened the door to the bar: act surprised. "Oh my god, you guys!" You exclaimed, putting on a wide smile on your face. The small party might have been a surprise but the decorations put up wasn't. Hanging from the ceiling on multiple threads were your photos which used to be on the walls.

Every single one of them.

Below were everyone waiting —Nat, Steve, Nick, Bucky and even Sam — and watching your reaction as you adored the whole set-up. Steve was the first one to approach you, enveloping you in a hug.

"Oh my god, Steve." You muttered, hugging him back.

"Surprised?"

"Not really." You pulled away. "A pretty little number may have told me." you said, looking over at Nat who already had a beer in her hand. She acknowledged you by winking.

"Natasha." Steve sighed, also looking at Nat. Caught, she turned around and took a big gulp of her beer.

You began to walk towards the little group; an odd combination of people, you might as well add. "This is amazing, Steve."

"The whole party was my idea but these photos?" He said, pushing you carefully towards Bucky's direction who took delight in your expression. "Was your man's."

You walked towards Bucky, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Hey, you."

"Hey, doll." He greeted, kissing your cheek. "Like the place?"

"Are you kidding me? I love it!" With your arm still around his neck, you admired the photos hanging from the ceiling once more. Bucky let you go, greeting the others as well.

Nick engulfed you in a hug, and whispered. "If he hurts you, I'll kick his ass."

You chuckled, ruffling his hair. "Nick, you can't even hurt a fly. But thanks, anyway. I'll be sure to keep that in mind."

"You better." He said. “We actually got acquainted while we were decorating the place. He's a good man, y/n. It's a good thing you didn't go out with me."

"If you want, I'll set you up with Parker." You joked.

"Ha-ha, you're a very funny girl."

With all the tables drawn towards one side of the bar, a big space on the center was in view, perfect for dancing or any kind of performance you could possibly think of. You all went towards one of the largest booths that could accommodate all of you. On the table were a bunch of American food — wings, fries, burger, you name it. And of course, cold beer.

While eating and finishing your first bottle of beer, you asked the group to settle a tiny debate, which Nat didn't like.

"It's Budapesht!" Nat exclaimed, insistent. A crack on her voice was evident.

"Budapest!" Nick boomed, downing his first bottle. "Don't you know how to spell? It's clearly Budapest!"

"I told you, it's not Budapesht! Budapesht is not the Budabest. Budapest is!" You argued with Nat, high-giving Nick. "Team Budapest for the win!"

"Take it easy there, honey." Bucky chuckled, grabbing you by the waist.

"Budapesht!"

"Budapest!" You and Nick exclaimed.

"I'm Russian, it's Budapesht!"

"Bup-bup-bup-bup." Sam butted in, one elbow on the table, a finger pointing up the ceiling. "If there's a swarm of termites in my house, do I call the pest control, or the pesht control?"

"Ha! Budapest wins!" You yelled which annoyed Nat to no end. She threw a stick of fries to your face. "Hey!"

"Come to Russia." She said in an accent. "I dare you."

You all broke out in a laugh.

After eating most of the food, Steve stood up, retrieving something from the back of the bar. When he came out, a big karaoke machine was wheeled in. "Rented this baby for a special occasion." Steve said proudly, slapping the top of the karaoke machine. On his other hand was "Who wants to go first?"

"Hell yeah, I'd go first!" Sam shouted.

You couldn't even begin to describe the first few hours of that night. Sam and Nick were the most wasted among all of us, quickly developing a weird friendship. They hogged the karaoke machine the most, singing duets, singing a LOT of Adele, and Lady Gaga. At one point, Sam even sang a Taylor Swift classic, We are Never Ever Getting Back Together, and made a weird "weeee" sound while singing the song which cracked you all up. Steve sang an old mellow song. Nat sang American Pie, her raspy voice blending all too well with the melody. The only people left who haven't got a chance to sing and dance on the floor were you and Bucky.

"Come on, you lovebirds!" Sam groaned, shoving the songbook in front of your faces.

The others joined in a chant, finally convincing you and Bucky. You stood up, hand in hand, and approached the machine. "Wait, before we start," Bucky said, holding up a bottle of beer, "let me raise a toast to the girl I like most — "

"Oh, Bucky."

"To y/n!" He said your name proudly, raising his bottle. The others did as well, saying your name.

"And to Steve!" You raised your own. "For having the guts to fire me."

"To Steve!"

"And to you," you turned towards Bucky, "for believing in me."

"Oh, cut the crap already!" Nat shouted, cupping her mouth with her hands. "Sing, bitches!"

And on cue, Bucky punched in some numbers. A familiar melody came out, which made you shake your head at Bucky. "Oh god no."

"You love this song!" Bucky said.

"No, you love this song!"

He started to sing the first verses and when he almost came to the chorus, he offered his hand. "Come on, doll. Sing it with me... Now, I've got you in my sights. With these..."

"Hungry eyes!" You finally gave him, letting him pull you towards his body so you can share the microphone.

"One look at you and I can't disguise!"

"I've got hungry eyes. I feel the magic between you and I!"

"I feel the magic between you and I!"

You continued to sing, your backs facing the door. Suddenly, another voice chimed in, making you and Bucky turn around.

"Hey, guys!" Peter closed the door behind him, dropping his bags on the floor. "What did I miss?"

✪

On a high-rise building in the Upper East Side, Tony Stark of Stark Industries sat on his office chair, looking over the never-sleeping New York City. He watched the cars and people go by, like watching ants do their work in an ant-farm. So tiny. He thought, happily sitting on his empire he had been building for decades. He watched in amusement as more and more car lights appeared. The hues of red and yellow looked like teeny little dots in his view, which reminded him of stars, making himself the glimmering moon which stood high up on the skies, unreachable yet adored by the many.

A knock on the door interrupted his high. "Come in." Tony said.

A tall figure walked in, with legs that could go for miles and with hair as golden as the sun. "Sir." He spoke.

Tony didn't turn around in his chair, rather he looked at the tall glass windows in front of him. The city lights became blurry. All Tony could see now was his reflection staring back at him, and Jarvis'. He glanced at Jarvis on his right, then back at his own. "Jarvis." He acknowledged. "You have something for me, I believe."

"Yes, sir." Jarvis replied, the English accent heavy on his tone. "But I'm afraid you're not going to like it."

A frown started to form on Tony's face. "James?"

"Yes, sir." The tall blonde replied.

Bucky had been missing quite some appointments with potential partners and investors. Not that he did most of the work, anyway. He would sit in on meetings on end, letting his assistant or Leonard, his concierge, deal with the negotiations. In the end, Bucky gets most of the profit "running" the hotel. He was merely a figure, a presence needed for signatures on piles of papers. But he would know if he was being undermined, if he was being scammed. He knew how to handle business but he just chooses not to. No one knew this, of course, not even Peter; except the parties involved on Bucky's side and Tony Stark. Tony lets it slide, only because the White Wolf had been improving the past years but God did he hate that name.

"I gave you that hotel and no way in hell are you changing the name." Tony sternly said. They were eating dinner at a fancy restaurant in the Upper East Side.

Bucky's treat to butter him up for his good news. Well, good news for Bucky but not so much for Tony.

"I knew you'd say that." Bucky replied. "That's why I went ahead and scrapped the old name and changed it into something new while the renovation was happening."

"Oh, James." Tony sighed, his knife stopping midway through the juicy steak. "What's the name?"

"White Wolf."

"Oh for fuck's sakes."

"Mr. Stark?" Jarvis repeated for the third time, finally grabbing Tony's attention.

"Sorry." He replied. "So, what is it? What did you find?"

"Mr. Barnes has been seeing a girl."

Tony rolled his eyes and finally turned around in his chair, looking at Jarvis. "He's always seeing girls."

"I'm afraid it's different this time, sir. It's why he's been missing a lot of meetings lately. And it's just not a girl." He said.

"Apparently, she's Peter's best friend."

"Huh, that's a twist. Around Peter's age?"

"Yes."

"That is new."

"But that's not all, sir. I'm afraid James is getting acquainted with Mr. Rogers once more."

Tony's body stiffened. Eyes unblinking. "Rogers? Steve Rogers? Are you sure?"

"A hundred percent. This girl James has been seeing is an employee of Mr. Rogers. Some kind of bar underneath an apartment building on the Upper West Side."

Tony frowned. "I thought Rogers had been taken care of."

"He was, sir. This was just some... big coincidence."

"It's a big mistake." He spoke. "I need you to keep an eye on James and pull out Rogers' files. Find anything — everything you can about this new life of his."

"Understood, sir. How about the girl?"

Tony frowned, not seeing anything wrong with it. "I won't worry about it too much. If he falls in love, then that's good." His eyes flickered to the photo of Peter's mom who passed away years ago. "I mean, I did before."

"Alright, sir. I'll be heading out now."

He nodded, watching Jarvis walk away from him. "Jarvis."

Jarvis stopped in his tracks and turned around to face his boss once more. "James can never know, Vis. He can never know."

[traincat]

So reading some of the early Lee/Ditko pages. Peter doesn't seem so shy as many interpretations have him. Like Lee has him walk up and ask Liz Allen in the first page out on basically a date. That's not something I or many could do. Not to mention Peter doesn't really hide his new courage as literally anytime Flash pokes fun at him, Peter insults him right back in front of everyone.

I saw this ask come in and got totally excited about it because yes, that’s it, exactly, that’s what bothers me about so many more modern takes on Peter Parker, because in 616 he’s not a guy who couldn’t summon up the courage to talk to a girl or talk back to someone who insulted him. There’s a really great article about Spider-Man Homecoming called The New Post-Racial Spiderman Ignores His Jewish Superhero Roots written by Noah Berlatsky that explores the Jewish roots of Spider-Man in relation to Homecoming’s choices to purposefully erase that (notable following Andrew Garfield’s openness about how his own Jewishness informed his performance as Peter Parker and retrospectively with Into the Spider-Verse’s Jewish Peter B. Parker) and casts a very specific light on what could be the subtext behind his 616′s classmates’ dislike for Peter:

Parker fits Jewish and immigrant stereotypes in one other way — he is loathed. His classmates despise him. The reason for this dislike is never articulated. It seems to come out of nowhere — unless you read Peter as Jewish, or as an immigrant outsider. Then suddenly, the classmates unmotivated animosity resolves into prejudice.

There’s also a lot of visual shorthand going on in the very first Spider-Man page in Amazing Fantasy #15, though, filled with pop culture tropes that have long since gone out of fashion:

Not only are we told Peter’s unpopular, we’re shown it through the designs. How do we know Peter’s bookish? He’s wearing glasses. He’s the only brunet on the page -- even the other dark-haired kids are raven-haired, and look at Peter compared to flaxen-haired All American-looking Flash Thompson, the popular kid. He’s holding school books when no one else is. We’re informed from this first shot that is serious and bookish compared to his more frivolous classmates. He “wouldn’t know a cha-cha from a waltz.” Look at even how he’s dressed compared to them: the dark colors compared to Liz’s red getup and Flash’s purple pants and striped sweater. He’s clearly a Serious Boy. And that’s part of my problem with how the Raimi films have pushed, in the public perception, this image of Peter as a sad sack nerd because I don’t think the important thing here is that Peter is a nerd, precisely: it’s that he’s an outsider. Something has to mark him as different than the other kids. 

And Peter’s confidence level clearly increases greatly after he gets his powers -- which, like, who’s wouldn’t upon being able to suddenly bench press a truck and dodge a bullet? -- but I don’t think he started from a place of zero confidence. I think he had all this stuff inside and the spider really frees that in him, but it doesn’t turn him into a different person entirely. And one thing I’ve pointed out before that I think is really pretty key to Peter’s personality: Peter’s good with women. He’s friends with plenty, including exes, of course, but I think there’s this false wish male fulfillment angle that gets played when people are talking about Peter Parker’s romantic relationships because there’s this idea of him as the nerd and then the women he gets involved with are all beautiful -- Gwen’s described as a beauty queen, Felicia’s super elegant and sexy, Mary Jane is a literal supermodel. But it’s not that Peter gets the mega-babe because he’s the main character and it’s not the male wish fulfillment trope of “average guy gets beautiful girl” -- Peter attracts women because he’s charismatic and romantic and charming. Like you said, one of the first things he does in canon is approach a popular girl and ask her out, and this is before the spider’s bite. And he gets turned down, true, but it was still a brave thing to do to put himself out there. Then only a few issues later, after he starts to notice Betty Brant, this happens:

(Amazing Spider-Man #7) I mean, this is some forward kind of behavior. He’s very flirtatious here, especially for someone who has never had a girlfriend before -- the eye contact, complimenting her perfume, inviting her to rest her head on his shoulder and calling her “baby.” It’s some smooth stuff from a teenager. Then there’s Dorrie Evans, Johnny Storm’s girlfriend a the time, who was very charmed by Peter’s gentlemanly demeanor and remarked several times that she wished Johnny could be “more like that nice Peter Parker” while trying to make him jealous. (It should also be noted Dorrie regularly criticized Johnny for “flaming on” all the time so uh there’s some stuff to get into there, metaphor-wise.)

(Amazing Spider-Man #21)

And the start of Peter and Gwen’s comics romance is pretty hilarious because it’s some “I loathe you I love you” stuff until John Romita sweeps in and things get romantic, but Peter is pretty explicitly not shy around her:

(Amazing Spider-Man #34) He’s a definite flirt. He’s also, at this point, getting described a lot as handsome -- Gwen at one point thinks he’s so “manly-looking” and at one point Peter gets offended when he thinks there’s a girl who is asking him out for his brains -- and not for his looks.

“Take away his looks... and his brains... and he’s nowhere!” (Amazing Spider-Man #54) So it’s also clear in the text that somewhere between high school and college, Peter got Hot, on top of his generally being an irrepressible flirt. And more than talking about when Flash pokes fun at him, Peter verbally spars with J Jonah Jameson fairly early on in canon -- not as early on as he starts displaying this confidence with women, granted, but it’s really one thing on the confidence scale to ask out a girl in your class or have a fast comeback for your classmate, but it’s an entirely different one to talk back to your boss. 

In my opinion this is where the relatable superhero label starts hurting the character, because he really isn’t that relatable when you get down to it: he’s a hot super genius who almost always has a smartass comeback, and that’s on top of all of his superpowers.