We can’t imagine not shipping it. We were introduced to Spider Man comics when we were like, six, and it was canon then. It should be canon no, no matter what stupid current editors say.
But let me share a moment with you. It’s from a Spider Man / X-Men crossover novel from the 90s.
Peter, Mary Jane, and their infant daughter are at the zoo. Peter is reflecting on how far he’s come, and how lucky he is.
And then the whole reality is wiped out in an instant.
The line the scene ends lingers in memory. Face it tiger, you just lost it all.
What are your favorite things about the ship?
Face it tiger, you just hit the jackpot.
MJ comes off as a nice girl these days but when she was introduced she was a sassy, sexy, dangerous, progressive bohemian swinger.
Peter is MJ’s wet cat man. Her blorbo. Her skrimblo blimbo.
Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?
Let MJ be mean and sexy and dangerous! Give her a secret identity! They can fight crime together!
Also they should be poly with Harry and Gwen like they were in the 70s.
AND BRING GWEN BACK DAMNIT
Bonus: sinister system ship?
Yes. Peter (and Ben) are in sinister and MJ is in our partner system
Harry Osborn can’t sleep. He gets advice from his dad.
Cw: mental Ilness, angst, insomnia
Harry couldn’t sleep. He didn’t know why. He’d gone to bed late, feeling shaky and half exhausted as usual, and yet here he was, lying in bed with his eyes open, staring at the grey light on dawn glowing behind the bedroom curtain.Ā
He’d been dreaming about something, hadn’t he? His father, maybeā¦ Harry didn’t want to follow that thought any further.
He glanced over at the clock. Years ago, this would be the time he would have been getting up for school. It all seemed so simple, then. He wondered if it had ever really been simple, or he had just been naive.Ā
‘If I had a real job, this is probably when I’d have to get up for work, too,“ he mused to himself as he stared at the ceiling. ‘put on a tie, drink a cup of coffee and hurry out the door. Like in a movie.’
Harry didn’t have a real job. Oscorp existed and money justā¦ happened. From a series of trusts, and stock portfolios, and men in ties who had real jobs.
Harry rolled out of bed, narrowly avoiding falling on his ass. He put his hands on his hip, and stretched out his back, before running his fingers through his tight ginger curls.
He wasn’t getting back to sleep. That much was obvious. He was starting to feel a tight heat in his veins, like a march of fire ants.Ā
The big house made him feel claustrophobic.
The big house made him feel like a lost dog.
He’d been dreaming about his father.Ā
It had been a nice dream.
Harry wished that he was still asleep.
He went to the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face. He made faces at himself in the mirror, looking at the tired dark circles under both his eyes.
‘You look just like me, kiddo,’ the voice of his dead father said. ‘Right before I kacked it.’
Harry ignored the voice, and thought, ‘I look just like him. Right before heā¦’
Harry dried his face with a towel.
He sat on the edge of the tub in the spacious, beautiful bathroom.
Some people had real problems. Some people couldn’t even afford rent. His own best friend couldn’tā
The thought of Peter brought bile into his stomach, and he put his head in his hands, squatting there on the edge of the tub in the dim bathroom for a long moment.
‘Aw, kiddo,’ his father sat beside him, and put an arm around his shoulders. ‘Why the long face, huh? Come on, I know just what will cheer you up.’
Harry looked up and gave his father a wan smile. The ghost offered him a hand, and Harry stood on shaky feet, following him through the house in the early hours of dawn.
‘What you need, my boy, is some fresh air,’ Norman lectured him jovially as they walked. ‘Can’t stay all cooped up in the house. Not good for ya. You’ll go a little stir crazy, if ya know what I mean.’
"Sure, dad,” Harry mumbled back as he stepped into his father’s drawing room, or library, or whatever the hell he called the damned place.Ā
His father waved him over to the secret door. ‘Don’t you ‘sure dad’ me, young man. Your old man knows what’s good for ya. I know I haven’t always been there, but you know I try my best.’
“I know, dad. Sorry."Ā
Harry stumbled on his way through the little alcove, bracing himself momentarily against the wall for support, before he shook it off.
He stood in the center of the strange little room while his father handed him pieces of kit, and watched him get dressed.
‘Man, kiddo, those abs,’ Norman grinned at him as he slipped into the light fitting flight suit. ‘At least you haven’t been skipping gym day, huh?’
He smiled embarrassedly. "The body goes, the mind goes, like you always used to say ”
‘Damn right, Harry,’ his father grinned at him. ‘Looks like you can listen after all.’
Harry slipped the head gear on and took a breath. “I do my best, dad.”
He slipped his boots into the locking mechanism of the glider and felt it hum to life underneath him, sending it’s thrum of energy through his body.
‘And I’m proud of you, son.’ Norman put a hand on Harry’s shoulder, and stepped into the glider behind him. There wasn’t really anywhere for him to be, aside from right up against Harry’s back, but that was fine. Harry didn’t think about it.
He brought the glider up, and out through the secret skylight, into the early morning New York air.
He took a breath as he rose, looking down at the city from way up high, and he felt dizzy. But at least it wasn’t the same dizzy he felt, laying in his bed, unable to sleep.
It made sense to feel dizzy up here.
Up here it all made sense.
“You were right, dad, this was just what I needed.”
‘Attaboy, Harry. Attaboy.’
The Green Goblin swooped through the skies of New York.
I use too many devices to keep track of all the panels Iāve saved of āPeter flirting with men or otherwise indicating heād be dtfā, so fuck it, Iām going to stick them all on this post as I rediscover them.
This shit is why Spider-Man can never join the Defenders and also why he is a widely acknowledged menace.
cindy moon redraw from 2021:) old piece is in my archive
so much progress in the last 2 years, i wish i wouldve been posting on here more. this suit redesign is WIP, i dig the webbing ive got rn but the logo could use some work
Thereās a year where both Aunt May and Norman Osborn are dead (or believed to be). Harryās in the middle of his addiction, and Peterās on the outs with all of his girlfriends.
Peter is planning to spend the whole night of Christmas eve patrolling the city, but heās interrupted just before heās going to leave by a very drunk Harry knocking on the door and singing a Christmas carol at the top of his lungs.
Peter pulls him insideā if only to stop him singing and the neighbors complaining. Heās only intending to let him stay for a few minutes, but Harry doesnāt seem safe to leave alone, swinging back and forth between broadly jovial, and on the verge of tears.
Eventually Peter decides that whateverās going on in this city, this is the place he can do the most good that night. He makes some coffee, and calls in an order for chinese food, hoping to sober Harry up a little.
The heat in Peterās tiny apartment is terrible, so they end up spending the night snuggled under the same blanket on Peterās couch, watching āItās a Wonderful Lifeā on broadcast tv and eating chop suey, before they fall asleep right there.
