There are plenty of options that don't include peas.
[ peter answers, before shoving his fork back into the pot and eyeing said offending peas as if he's exceptionally put-upon by all of it.
—don't get him wrong, he notices that eyebrow quirk, knows the question that's being asked by not being asked, and honestly? peter doesn't really want to talk about it. if it was johnny, he'd — well, it would be a disaster of a conversation, he'd be mocked and it'd be deserved; and he'd explain it with a remark about parker luck even if, actually, it was just GenericTM bad luck that was part and parcel of—
—well, it was the reason why spider-fails.com existed.
he's silent, then, just for a moment, before shovelling a mouthful of noodles (quote unquote) and chicken-flavoured soya protein into his mouth. ]
So, one of my friends from home — he's an idiot, by the way — is a popular (bizarrely) super-hero, and before we became friends, [ uttered with the mild distaste of someone that is really, genuinely fond of the person they're talking shit about ], he hired me to take some photos. [ pause; more food. (oh, wait, that sounded a bit weird.) ] Of him. Because he was jealous of Spider-Man. [ another pause, although this time peter's expression flickers a little, as if he's just realising how ridiculous this sounds. ] Okay, so the paper I worked for hated Spider-Man: local menace, cause of all that's wrong with the world and New York, but mostly New York, bringer of tragedy and, like, the cause of the corruption of youth and the downfall of society. Y'know, the usual.
—Anyway, he wanted to be on the front page of the paper, I needed the money. [ loose shrug of a shoulder. ] He thought I had it all — and my "good luck" [ air quotes with his one entirely functional hand, fork still in hand, punctuated by a huff of breath that actually manages to be a laugh ] Parker Luck, he called it. [ beat. ] I thought he had it all: girls, family, no money issues, and I tended to have bad luck whenever I did something that I thought was the right thing, which I, uh, called the Parker Luck— [ punctuated by a sharp glance towards jason because DON'T EVEN. ]
—This isn't either version of that, but let's pretend that it is.
no subject
[ peter answers, before shoving his fork back into the pot and eyeing said offending peas as if he's exceptionally put-upon by all of it.
—don't get him wrong, he notices that eyebrow quirk, knows the question that's being asked by not being asked, and honestly? peter doesn't really want to talk about it. if it was johnny, he'd — well, it would be a disaster of a conversation, he'd be mocked and it'd be deserved; and he'd explain it with a remark about parker luck even if, actually, it was just GenericTM bad luck that was part and parcel of—
—well, it was the reason why spider-fails.com existed.
he's silent, then, just for a moment, before shovelling a mouthful of noodles (quote unquote) and chicken-flavoured soya protein into his mouth. ]
So, one of my friends from home — he's an idiot, by the way — is a popular (bizarrely) super-hero, and before we became friends, [ uttered with the mild distaste of someone that is really, genuinely fond of the person they're talking shit about ], he hired me to take some photos. [ pause; more food. (oh, wait, that sounded a bit weird.) ] Of him. Because he was jealous of Spider-Man. [ another pause, although this time peter's expression flickers a little, as if he's just realising how ridiculous this sounds. ] Okay, so the paper I worked for hated Spider-Man: local menace, cause of all that's wrong with the world and New York, but mostly New York, bringer of tragedy and, like, the cause of the corruption of youth and the downfall of society. Y'know, the usual.
—Anyway, he wanted to be on the front page of the paper, I needed the money. [ loose shrug of a shoulder. ] He thought I had it all — and my "good luck" [ air quotes with his one entirely functional hand, fork still in hand, punctuated by a huff of breath that actually manages to be a laugh ] Parker Luck, he called it. [ beat. ] I thought he had it all: girls, family, no money issues, and I tended to have bad luck whenever I did something that I thought was the right thing, which I, uh, called the Parker Luck— [ punctuated by a sharp glance towards jason because DON'T EVEN. ]
—This isn't either version of that, but let's pretend that it is.