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barty

[themysciras]

1 2 3 4 5

[gadabouts]

[ as a general rule, barty tries to ditch as many galas as possible. he’s not wholly against the notion of rubbing elbows with politicians and millionaires and kissing the asses of donors, but it’s not really how he prefers to spend his evenings. free champagne and a square meal only goes so far to make up for gritting his teeth while some baby-handed investment banker whines and moans about how his yacht’s been in for repairs for months, his life is so hard, bluh bluh.

but still, he’s not stupid; he knows that he has to do a proverbial tap-dance at least sometimes. generally speaking, anything at boston university he attends - it helps that it’s his home, and he’s able to have silent can you believe this shit? conversations with his colleagues and coworkers. and if the offer or invitation is particularly good, how can he say no?

the louvre. paris. hotel included. of course he’d attend that.

and he’s enjoying himself. the parisian night is chilly enough to offset the massive throng of donors, archaeologists, scholars, and trust fund socialites milling through the museum after dark. there’s a few people he knows he’s been able to catch up with: talk about a new pottery exhibit with cal harrington, ask the rivers about the new scholarship they’re starting, lend an ear as abigail chase bitched about unionization efforts.

and then, out of the corner of his eye - a familiar mane of curly hair. a designer dress. even without heels, towering over the man (unsuccessfully) trying to flirt with her. ]

Diana!

[ barty’s never liked percy delacroix; he feels absolutely nothing about interrupting him. ] Sorry, old chap, I’m going to have to cut in - Diana, I’ve been looking everywhere for you - I can’t find that new display you were telling me about, can you show me?

[sophielicious]

(Sleeping at Peter's is not uncomfortable, perse, but to say it takes some getting used to should be a fair assumption and fact. Sophie's apartment, shared with the other Stepford Cuckoos, is so high in the sky that one can barely hear the commotion and noise from the streets. The cars passing by, ambulances, chatter — although the latter is not something a telepath can escape. His bed is not a smidge as soft as hers, nor does he have the same luxury-level items to regard in his spare time.

Still, his apartment has one thing hers doesn't. Him. It's why she doesn't bitch about the little sore knot on her back, or how the lights of the cars disturbed her sleep a few times. Instead, Sophie nuzzles against Peter's neck, a kiss gently pressed on his skin.)

[combfooted]

[ peter’s apartment is humble, which is a nice way of saying a fixer-upper, which is just a nice way of saying a bit of a dump. he’s patched up some of the creaking floorboards and there’s no mold in the walls, so it’s not as much of a shithole as it could be. but still, his salary from the bugle’s only enough that he can live in one of the historic buildings - so the furniture’s a little mismatched, the corners need vacuuming, the bookshelves are stuffed fill with science textbooks and magazines and dime novels.

sophie, to her credit, didn’t turn her nose up too much the first time she saw it. (maybe she read his mind, knew what was coming). she grumbles sometimes about the flickering light in the kitchen and the sound of the traffic, but she takes the rest with good grace. “it’s like camping,” she says.

but it might help that while they’re in the apartment, they don’t necessarily need to stay in the apartment. case in point: physically, peter parker is stretched out in his bed in some slightly frayed pajamas, lanky limbs every which way, with his girl curled up in the crook of his arm.

mentally? they're at a pool – some sort of lavish rooftop thing, with a cabana bar and big umbrellas. the smell of the ocean, the distant sound of waves. a realm that is clay in sophie's hands. distantly, he can make out four identical girls – though whether the actual cuckoos are here or if it's just background constructs is anyone's guess. he's in one of the pool chair, a pair of trunks nicer than anything he'd buy. ]

You know -

[ he's trying to not stare too openly at her, even as she pads towards his seat with a hollowed-out pineapple with something pink and bubbly in each hand. peter leans over – still making perfect eye contact, thanks - to take one of them. (it's the nice thing about alcohol in the psychic realm – no hangovers. ]

This is nice. Real nice.

kori and penny - #girltime

[webbs]

[ penny doesn't date much. with all of the everything going on – her photojournalism internship, dealing with college classes, being spider-girl, attempting to have even the slightest amount of a social life, hollow knight speedruns – it's not in the cards. but kori, beautiful and star-lit kori, has taken it as her personal mission to give her the chance. ”I will cover your patrols for you, sweet Penelope! You must!”

and sure, there's a guy in her history of science ethics class that seems pretty cool: complimented her zelda hoodie, cute smile, tall, doesn't seem to be a supervillain. what'd be the harm in getting dinner? ]

Kori. Kooooooori!

[ a lot, as it turns out. that smile hid some really wonky opinions on superheroes and a big cryptocurrency habit.

penny stumbles back into their apartment at a quarter after eleven, heels in her hand, just on the wrong side of tipsy. she flings her keys up onto the hook next to the door with barely a glance, drops her shoes, and flops right onto an overstuffed couch. it's not fair. it's not fair that she does all of this stuff and can't find a single night to have fun on, it's not fair that kori's been so great about helping her out, and for this. for a guy who spent half the time talking about bitcoin and his old NFTs, and the other half mansplaining the sokovia accords to her. ]

That was the worst. The. Freakin'. Worst.

[starboltz]

( the clink of glassware sounds softly from the kitchen, a reminder that kory's been up late waiting; a mug in her hand, steam curling upward. she doesn't announce herself right away when penny stumbles through the door; instead, she listens, green eyes flicking toward the couch as the weight of her friend hits the cushions. she catches the little break in penny's voice. the sharpness of frustration. it makes her heart tug.

she pads quietly into the living room, the mug still in her hand. she sets it on the coffee table before lowering herself beside penny, the couch sighing beneath the added weight of her presence. her hand hovers for a moment above penny's hair before finally smoothing gently along her crown, a slow and reassuring stroke. her smile is soft but not teasing, not too bright. just steady and kind. )

My sweet one. ( kory murmurs, voice gentle. ) I can tell by your entrance that your night did not end in the triumph I hoped for you.

( her head tilts, studying the other woman's exhausted sprawl, then leans back a little, folding one leg beneath her to sit comfortably. her fingers linger at penny's temple for another stroke before she lets her hand rest on her shoulder instead, grounding. )

You are safe now, here at home, with no men to trouble you. ( the corner of her mouth quirks, a spark of humor softening the ache of the night. ) Tell me everything, if it will ease your spirit. Or tell me nothing, and I will simply stay with you until the bad taste of it has faded.

[webbs]

Yeah, so - Jackson? Cool smile, likes Nintendo, probably-not-evil Jackson? [ as if there was any doubt who she was talking about; not six hours prior she was ranting to Kory about how cool and chill he seemed to be. ] Turns out he sucks. Well, it didn’t start so bad I guess, he had a pretty good joke -

[ penny starts to give the play-by-play: meeting for drinks and getting dinner. but he was weird about how she didn’t want any of his appetizer - “It had bacon! He wasn’t listening!” - and it just went downhill from there. rolling his eyes about the titans. talking over her. so much shit about how cryptocurrency was totally the future, and batman would absolutely agree with him - ]

And it’s just so freakin’ dumb, you know? Because I know B-Man thinks all of that shit’s stupid, Dick’s told me that, but I can’t just tell this guy that, so I have to say that it’s just - vibes, and I sound so cringy when I say that.

[ and on and on. she’s getting more comfortable as she talks, slowly snaking her way up the couch until her head’s on kory’s lap. ]

Tell me you had a nice night?

[starboltz]

( long nails graze lightly along penny's scalp in soothing strokes. the words spill out of her quick, tripping over each other, her frustration carried on the rush of it. kory listens, her brow furrowing with every new offense that boy added to the evening. she feels the heat rising in her chest just imagining penny having to bite her tongue through it all. tamaranean passion demands reaction, but this was her story to tell, so kory pours her energy into being present instead. )

It sounds as though he was unworthy of your time the moment he stopped listening to you. That's always the true test, I think. To be heard. ( then, more gently: ) I am sorry he wasted your time. ( her hand pauses, smoothing one last time over penny's hair before resting at her temple. she leans down just enough that her laugh brushes warm against the air. )

But 'vibes' is simply your way of saying what I always say: that feelings matter more than arguments. That's not cringy.

( her smile lingers as she wrinkles her nose playfully, shifting her other hand to the armrest, bracketing penny in. )

As for my night... it was quiet. I watched the stars, listened to music, waited for you.

Now it's better because you're here.

[webbs]

I mean. [ penny cranes her neck, tilting her head to look up at kory. in the haze of the overhead lighting and one too many margaritas, kory’s face is a little blurry. a perfect halo of gold and red: warm, radiant energy, the scent of her soap. the anger and frustration starts to bleed out of her, shoulders relaxing, head turning again to better come against kory’s hand.

feelings matter more than arguments. kory’s always talking about emotions - recognizing them, identifying them, using them as fuel and motivation. and penny parker feels a lot of things: pride at a job well done; the sharp loss of defeat; bursting, unending love for new york -

and a lot of rage. she’s a five-foot-two ball of pent-up anger; g-d gave her two fists and superpowers, and she’s making it everyone else’s problem. but she couldn’t come up with the right argument to tell cryptobro jackson why he was wrong. ]

It’s a little cringy. [ she raises a hand, pinching her fingers less than an inch apart. ] But I guess it’s not bad.

[ watched the stars. listened to music. ]

Sounds nice. I mean, not the waiting part. But nice.

kori and peter - photoshoot

[combfooted]

Alright – hold that, perfect -

[ koriand'r is the most stunning woman peter's ever met – a sentiment he's not shy about vocalizing. a princess, a heroine, a wonderful friend, absolute dynamite in the sack. she makes him feel at once like there's a spotlight on him and she's the only dame in the audience. kori laughs at his stories and asks breathless, curious questions about anything, and when she teases him, he can't seem to mind.

and as if that wasn't enough, kory anderson is a supermodel.

pete's photography career has mostly been relegated to selling snapshots of himself in action to pay the bills. every now and then, jameson sends him off to some gala or fancy party to get some filler for the society pages. what he's learned has all been pretty self-taught, about focus and aperture and lighting. he's pretty good, too, enough that the fantastic four had him take some portraits a while back. when kori first saw them, hanging up in his apartment, she cooed and fawned. at first, he thought she was just being sweet, but no, that's just how she is. excited about people, about art, about everything he does.

maybe it raised some eyebrows at the fashion house when kory anderson brought in some nobody to take her pictures instead of one of the regular guys. but a dame like her gets what she wants, so here peter is, camera in hand, coaxing kori in how to hold herself while dipping her feet in the pool. ]

Great. Maybe a pout?

[ it's been a day of flurried action and wardrobe changes: dresses, miniskirts, swimsuits. peter's immersed himself in the technical aspects and professionalism, making sure that the sun's catching her hair the right away, that the reflection in the water isn't interfering too badly. kori's trust in him makes him focus as good as his camera does, instead of getting lost in how pretty she is. ]

[starboltz]

( she adjusts the soft silk of the robe slung loosely around her shoulders, letting it slip just enough to suggest mischief as she draws her legs up into a playful pose by the pool's edge. a feigned pout curls at her lips. it's not a sad pout, just the kind that says look at me a little longer, and it's half-melted by the soft bubble of laughter that escapes right after. )

Like this? ( kory tilts her chin downward, lets her hair spill forward in the light, always aware of the way the sun glows on her skin and how peter's camera clicks when she shifts just right. she's modeling, yes, but she's also having fun. for all the high-gloss polish of the fashion world, this is what she enjoys most. the quiet play between her and peter. the moments she gets to draw out that look he thinks he hides behind professionalism.

and she knows that look: how his brows knit in concentration, but his mouth tugs upward without him realizing it. how he squints at the lens like it's the only thing he can trust not to fluster him. how he flusters anyway. )

You get very serious when I pout.

( she teases, the accent of her native tongue giving every syllable a kind of musicality. her fingers reach out and skim across the top of the water, scattering ripples that distort her reflection. because it's not about perfection. not when peter is the one taking the picture. it's about light and trust and the little thrill that sparkles every time their eyes meet between shutter clicks. she looks at him now, eyes glowing with that warm affection she carries for him. )

You are certain I do not distract you too much?

( she doesn't need reassurance but peter's fluster is half the fun. and the honesty in it, even more so. )

[combfooted]

[ it’s easy to feel at ease around her. that’s just how kory is, innately welcoming and warm, endlessly generous with her attention and praise. even as peter’s been nervous about the notion of a real, fancy shoot with her - the glamour and glitz of it all - she’s been steadying him. and now that they’re into the weeds, it’s easier. even fun. ]

I’m serious about photography. Want to make sure this is good, you know?

[ though it’s still a job for him, paying and everything, and peter parker’s got too much pride to half-ass an easy gig. especially for a friend. so he’d done all of his test shots earlier on polaroids to get acclimated to the angles of the sun and color of kory’s burning hair and golden skin. he’s careful to really take his time with lining up the right frame, and that flexibility’s been coming in real handy, contorting his long legs every which way.

there’s a half-second where her fingers break the surface of the water where the ripples catch the reflection of the sun in her jewelry, a constellation of light and diamonds -

click. click. click. ]

Nah. [ but he grins, poking his head out from the side of the camera. ] You’re my favorite distraction, Kory.

[starboltz]

( she catches the grin before it reveals itself — that little twitch at the edge of his mouth when he peeks out from behind the lens. you're my favorite distraction, kory — and her smile spreads like sunlight cresting the edge of a rooftop.

kory shifts her weight, angling her body more towards the camera, while her fingers continue to sail along the water's surface. it's warm where the sun has touched it; cooler in the shadows cast by the parasol nearby. with one graceful motion, she dips her fingers just so, and then flicks them in peter's direction, a mischievous spray of droplets toward his pant leg. )

Oh? Then perhaps I should do more distracting. ( she teases, voice lilting with amusement. ) Maybe a cartwheel? A splash?

( her eyes sparkle, head tipping playfully to one side to let her golden red hair cascade forward with the motion. then she settles again, gaze softening, and watches him through another click of the shutter. this time, when the moment is captured, she's not posing. she's looking at him with open fondness. )

You do look very handsome when you're focused like that.

[combfooted]

[ by now, peter’s able to respond to her teasing with a square head on his shoulders. he doesn’t fluster anymore - well, he maybe doesn’t fluster any less, either - and he doesn’t bristle like a pufferfish at the attention. there’s always going to be a part of him, he reckons, that’s fifteen years old and stumbling around the halls of midtown high, where the nicest thing a pretty girl does is look at him like she stepped in something foul.

so he rolls his eyes, good-natured, openly amused. ] Can’t get all of that hair blocking your face, doll. [ even if it’s gorgeous, from the way it bounces and curls and cascades, to how it frames kory’s face.

his spider-sense ripples when her wrist snaps, splashing the hem of his trousers with a little poolwater. peter sighs, fond, and opens his mouth to say something that no doubt would’ve been witty -

and then she calls him handsome. and focused. and he pauses. ]

Gee. That’s real nice of you to say. [ wow, peter, great job. he snaps a few stills, not really thinking about what he’s doing. certainly, not trying to think about what she’s wearing (or not wearing) under that robe. ] You always say you like competence, yeah? Focusing on getting pictures that good of you, even when you're being all - [ a casual, errant wave of the hand. ] - you - its gotta count for something.