Peter Parker blowing up the batcave after hearing the batfamily refer to every regular item spraypainted black with a “bat“ prefix for the millionth time
Zendaya clearly thinks he’s hot, and thinks highly of him, more so than he does of himself. Remember when Tom said something about how just his face normally ruins pictures and Zendaya said “not true”? Or when Z said Tom could be a vet, and Tom responded and said “with my brain?” and she was like yeah, of course. Or when Tom was nervous about reading the questions for a trivia because he was dyslexic and Z was like don’t worry you got this? I’m sorry I’m getting sappy but she’s so sweet and it’s making me soft.
Here's a compilation of those moments that I made for you, anon (as an apology for answering this very late):
ZENDAYA BEING PERSONALLY OFFENDED EVERYTIME TOM HOLLAND MAKES A SELF-DEPRECATING JOKE
Peter and MJ are married. MJ’s a famous actress. Peter’s still Spider-Man. People think Spider-Man and MJ are together. The problem? Everyone knows MJ is a married woman.
It’s not a well-kept secret that Spider-Man is a homewrecker.
He’s a great hero, no doubt about it, but he’s not universally loved in New York City. Not that he’s ever been universally loved here—too many damn cops out for his blood for that to ever be true. And that’s not to mention Jameson’s smear campaign against him. But it’s funny. The only thing Jameson never touches about Spider-Man’s misdeeds is that he’s secretly fucking one of the most famous, married actresses of all time: MJ Watson.
Yeah.
It’s a bit of a moral quandary.
A cute little (mildly Parksborn) snippet from Ch 4 of "Spider-Man: Homesickness"
The elevator dings as the doors slide open, revealing a beautifully furnished sitting room, full of several couches surrounding an elegant fireplace. The stark white walls have a few large, abstract paintings scattered about, with small sculptures and vases on display pillars around the edges of the room. It looks like a cross between an art gallery and a hotel showroom.
There’s nothing here that seems personal, at least not at first glance.
On the far side of the room, resting on a pedestal in a corner alcove, almost as if it’s not meant to be seen while contrastingly on bright display, is a stunning white guitar. Peter isn’t familiar with the brand, but it does look older. There’s a looping and sprawling signature across the front in black ink that is hard to make out.
That’s personal. That’s Harry’s.
Still unsure about this whole situation, Peter decides that it can’t hurt to try to get on his good side. And perhaps it will weed out some hints as to what Peter should expect. Perhaps it will give him an in.
He carefully steps across the mottled carpet and makes his way over to the guitar, examining it closely. “Something tells me that this isn’t Daddy Dearest’s,” he says.
Harry snorts as he comes up behind Peter. “Definitely not. That was my present to myself on my 18th birthday.”
“From what I’ve heard, I’m impressed your dad let you show it off. He doesn’t seem particularly supportive of your interests.”
Harry looks at Peter with a quirked eyebrow. “You have no idea what you’re looking at, do you?”
Peter winces slightly. “Music isn’t really my area of expertise. I take it this is special?”
“That’s an understatement,” Harry laughs. “But no, you’re right. Normally, he wouldn’t care for my things. He just appreciates the price tag associated with this one in particular. Twelve million dollars and half the music world believing it’s a fake, even though I know for a fact that it’s genuine.”
“Twe-” Peter chokes. “Twelve million dollars for a guitar? Fuck me sideways.”
“I was young and excitable. So sue me.” There’s no bite to his voice, instead, it’s wistful and loving. “The first portion of my trust fund was finally accessible and I wanted something that was mine in its entirety. Plus, I knew even then that I would take care of it for the rest of my life.”
“Sorry, I’m really not trying to judge. I’m just feeling a little Prince and the Pauper right now. Wow. We definitely lead very different lives.”
“I’ve noticed. Don’t let it fool you, I will never be cool, even with the money and the music. It’s all a carefully curated look. I’m a dweeb through and through.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it, your Highness.” L’abito non fa il monaco, right?
Unknowingly thrown into a pocket dimension, Peter lives out his life like normal. But as Spider-Man continues to cross paths with MJ, Peter realizes there's something wrong with the world he's in.
New York City breathes differently after they forget Peter Parker.
The tension on the streets loosens, the air sings louder, and the world finally rights itself to a sense of normalcy. Spider-Man is not necessarily beloved, but he is treated with a little more respect than before. Or at least back before people knew his identity and that he was just a senior in high school.
Fic Rating: M
Chapter Word Count: 7.1k
Fic Word Count (so far): 38.3k
Relationships: Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, Michelle Jones & Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Harry Osborn & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones & Gwen Stacy & Mary Jane Watson, Gwen Stacy & Peter Parker, Miles Morales & Peter Parker, Eddie Brock & Peter Parker, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Harry Osborn/Mary Jane Watson
Primary Tags: Post-Movie: Spider-Man: No Way Home (2021), Post-Canon, 5 Years Later, Angst with a Happy Ending, Unreliable Narrator, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Hurt/Comfort, Depression
Summary:
Nearly 5 years after Dr. Strange's spell and the events on Liberty Island, Peter has settled into a routine. Patrol. Record the patrol. Edit the footage. Sell the footage. Pay rent. Remember to eat. Remember to sleep. Don't let anyone look too closely. Repeat. Sure, he misses his friends. He misses May. But that doesn't matter, because he's saving his city one petty crime at a time. Alone, because he doesn't need a team anyway. Just like the Avengers don't need him.
The multiverse is intact and everything is as it should be.
He's surviving just as well as anyone else nowadays. 100%.
or:
The week that Peter's life flipped upside down, one overly friendly stranger at a time.
[Updates twice a month]