THE ZANZA CINEMATIC UNIVERSE PRESENTS: GWEN STACY.
the amazing spider-man based, influenced heavily by headcanons and some canon divergence, featuring crossover and au verses, of marvel comics, by zanza.
there’s a skip in her step as she approaches, grin as broad as it’s ever been. and why shouldn’t it be? in fact, gwen’s sure the excitement bubbling in her chest is only increasing with each step she draws closer to @nursc.
finally she comes to a stop with one final hop, rocking on her heels as the anticipation is allowed to build for a moment... one long moment... before she speaks. “i have great news,”
{ ☆ } Clea furrows her brows, her fingers suspended in the air as the portal swirled in front of her. Did she fuck up the spell? “Shit, you’re not MJ,” She mused, examining the girl in the portal. She crinkles her nose, pursing her lips to the side as she tries to figure out where she went wrong.
As far as she was aware–she was trying to find anyone else in the UNIVERSE who knew who Peter Parker was. Just to smooth things over when Peter (the one who LIVED there) and the others fixed things. Blue eyes dart to the notepad in front of her, scrolling through names.
“Wait–you’re Gwen Stacy!” She exclaims, a bright smile playing on her lips. Okay, she hadn’t completely screwed things up. “Okay! Good, I didn’t yank the wrong person through a portal,” Clea sighed, scratching her name off of the list.
confusion is paramount as she scans the room, gaze shifting to the other woman as she speaks. eyes are wide as gwen finds herself increasingly unable to process what’s going on. what the hell is going on? tension winds her muscles tightly, and she can feel the ache already as lips press together and she resumes taking in her environment.
of course, her attention snaps sharply back at the mention of her name. the smile that greets her brings some comfort, so that’s something... right? “yeah, i am,” she mumbles, somewhat absently as her mind fights to wrap around all of this, “but what do you mean by portal? i’m... i don’t know what’s going on, and i really hope you’ve got an explanation,”
legs cross beneath her as she settles in, shoulders rising and falling in quick succession as she takes a breath in then sighs. the question brings up... well, it brings up a lot of complicated feelings as the idea that she’s not in new york is brought prominently to her mind. homesickness weighs heavy on her chest as gwen thinks about all the things she misses, about everything that’s so different here. “it’s good, i mean, oxford is amazing. i love it here, i’m so lucky to have made it into this program,” the ‘but’ hangs in the air as she treads slowly through the bog of hesitance that she wishes didn’t exist, “i miss home. i miss my mom, that sushi place i love, my brothers...” the pause that follows is shorter, shoulders slumping ever so slightly as her free arm hugs a pillow against her chest. him... she misses him, but gwen doesn’t think she can say so. not now. not yet. “i - i miss a lot of things,” another ‘but’ hangs in the air as she draws in a breath, “it’s good here, though, it really is,”
@buglesgirlfriday said ⇾ I bet you’re tired after a long hard week.
RED (TAYLOR’S VERSION), accepting.
lips press together as her jaw trembles, unable to make any sort of eye contact as betty’s words sink in. god, it’s true. her dad’s gone, and gwen can’t really process it. it’s so much.
it’s too much.
tears sting her eyes as she draws in a shaky breath, face scrunching in the hope it’ll push away her emotions. they’re overwhelming, they’re drowning her, and it’s like she can’t recall just how to really breathe.
“i, uh,” her sleeve passes over her face, wiping away the tears, “i really don’t think tired comes anywhere near describing what i am, but i don’t think there’s a better word, so...” gwen shrugs, arms crossing tightly across her chest in an attempt to do anything to help.
she’s heard that before, in fact, it’s something gwen’s used a few times when she’s found herself up against a subject or task that hadn’t come as easily as others. sometimes, of course, she’d failed to keep at it with impatience taking control... but gwen’s never claimed to be without flaws.
head ducks as she nods, arms crossing over her chest — lips press together, a deep breath filling her lungs. once it’d been a comforting feeling, the influx of oxygen allowing for the breaths that had followed to come with increasing ease. this time feels different. it really does. maybe it’s the continuing barrage of bizarre and painful events that surround the one she currently finds herself in, maybe it’s not, and she’s really not in the headspace to dwell on it all.
so instead, gwen looks at may with a weak smile, “it’d be nice if it took less time to break them than to make them, huh?”