🎔 ⭒ ⁽ ¹ˢᵗ 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊 ᵎ ⁾

𝘭𝘦𝘵'𝘴  ᴴ͟ᴱ͟ᴬ͟ᴿ͟ ͟ᴵ͟ᵀ  𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦  𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐘 ! ᵉˣᶜˡˑ ᵍʷᵉᶰ ˢᵗᵃᶜʸ ⁽⁶¹⁶⁾ ᵇʸ ᶜʰᵃˢᵉᶰˑ

[loveologie]

⭒ Tɦis 𝑙iтт𝑙e 𝑙a𝕕ყ ɦas a n𝑎me.ᐟ ⭒

an exclusive & semi - private blog for an original adaptation of SPIDER - MAN’S GWENDOLYNE STACY. primarily based in her 616 iterations and composites with minor pull from other adaptations. written by chasen. 21+. she/her. est. 

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   𝗕𝗘𝗔𝗨𝗧𝗜𝗙𝗨𝗟 & 𝗪𝗜𝗟𝗟𝗙𝗨𝗟 & 𝗗𝗘𝗔𝗗 𝗕𝗘𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗜𝗠𝗘

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[ghostlyrec]

SEND  TRY + A CHARACTER  YOU’D LIKE TO SEE ME ( ATTEMPT ) TO WRITE !

[loveologie]

+ finally back from michigan - leaving for ny tomorrow

[loveologie]

dc wants gwen stacy so bad

[loveologie]

Gwen’s celeb crushes are Superman and captain America. She does NOT fuck with Bruce Wayne or Batman

[gothmite]

?

[loveologie]

This is the kinda creepy shit Gwen’s talking abt

[fauxdeiu]

﹙ 𝕯. ﹚ continued. [ @loveologie ] ▃▃ ‘‘ FROM HERE. ’’

what's content to the little lady is an overwhelming splurge of city pollution to the devil. early evening traffic exploded, the working - class of manhattan took to the roads as a labor intense day concludes. matt purposefully left the curtains astray in his office, feeling the warmth hit the back of his neck, leveling him when the case, of which sat upon his desk, had a brutal headache pulsing between the ears. his fingertips bruise alongside raised ink, making out each letter in a slow, lazy process of gaining information. truth be told, he'd rather be doing anything but this. the day had gone on a bit longer than he'd like and he knew he'd be behind his desk later than usual. and so, when the secretary announced the blonde looking for unexpected respite, he welcomed her without worry.

( her scent is familiar, i could recognize her by perfume alone. it lingered nicely in the hallway, didn't have to hear her voice to know who came to visit after hours. her footsteps are gentle and poised against the oak floors of my office. we sat in silence for a beat longer than expected, i can't help but assume it may had something to do with the spider plastered across city newspapers. i take in the anxious pattering of her heart and it was obvious something heavy was weighing on her ).

there was guilt to be felt the longer she spoke. there was as much secrecy in sainthood as there was hope. it was hard to reconcile with that fact on his own, let alone with a civilian on the opposite spectrum of things. the hypocrisy rose steadily in his chest.           ❛    well, gwen, i have half a brain to assume this is about a loved one. i take it there's been some... light fighting. maybe arguments is a better word to use.    ❜ does god forgive lies that are told for the better good ? is there punishment to be had when those you care about a wounded by the deployment of deceit ?           ❛    tell me what these people have been lying about.    ❜

[loveologie]

 ( ! )         ♡          the  banality  of  the  implication  bites  something  small,  but  vicious  in  her.  as  if  this  were  a  trite,  mundane  argument  between  bickering  lovers  *  she  tenses  in  her  seat,  newly  furious  at  her  forced  induction  into  peter’s  secrets.  the  world  grew  ten  times  its  size  in  an  instant  &   gwendolyne  is  small  with  the  weight  of  it  all.                        ❛❛  it’s  not  my  secret  to  share,  ❜❜                     her  words  are  bitter  with  the  faint  hypocrisy  she  tastes  as  she  speaks  them.  the  agitation  of  it  all  gives  to  restlessness  as  she  adjusts  again  in  her  seat,  manicured  nails  twirling  idly  between  flaxen  locks,  lip  bitten  to  pause  in  conversation.

                      ❛❛  have  you  ever  been  in  love,  matt  ?  ❜❜                      finally,  after  long  silence,  gwen  speaks.  her  voice  has  softened  now,  despite  the  anger  still  fuelling  the  unease  &  discontent  in  her  anxious,  fiddlesome  hands.  it  would  be  nice  to  be  uncomplicated  in  the  wake  of  it.  to  hate  him.  to  not  feel  guilty  for  being  angry  or  the  desperate  need  to  wrap  around  him  &  sink  into  that  accustomed  warmth,  tender  comfort  of  his  body  against  hers.  HOW  SHE  COULD  CRY  !  little  girl  grown  &  alone,  across  from  quiet  catholic   as  she  spoils  her  evening  further  with  the  burden  of  emotions  tangled.                          ❛❛  not  just  in  love,  i  mean  —  truly,  really,  desperately  adore  someone  ?  ❜❜                notes  of  heartache  &  longing  seep  into  the  lilt  of  her  voice.  she  shifts  her  chair  closer  to  him.                       ❛❛  i’m  so  angry  with  him  i  never  want  to  see  him  again,  but  it  makes  me  cry  when  i  don’t  see  him  for  a  day.  ❜❜

[burynot]

@loveologie : continued.

scent of european tobacco clung to tailored shoulders, his preferred attired blending seamlessly with that of snob-nosed gala attendees. it almost made him regretful of his choices; any assumption at all he belonged to the higher tiers of moneyed men made his ears burn. sherlock holmes only belonged where there were discoveries to be had, his observant nature having already dissected everyone in the room. what they wore, personal items presumably acquired through unordinary, unethical means and what exactly they were there for. aside from the obvious. gust of air made it's way out of trapped throat, her comments amusing him far more than anything the night had yet.

" should it be any consolation, my eyes are capable of differentiating between bottled and natural. " wagered with an awkward swirl of his own glass; whiskey neat to dissolve the rest of steeped boredom. one brow rose at aimed question, head dipping to assess himself. " well, i am still in my twenties, and- you are correct. this is hardly the place i wish to be during a night like this. " proving her right in a way, the veil shedding and melting the illusion. lips met now room temperature glass, a burn at the swallow. " you don't seem particularly thrilled with this circumstance either. what might you be here for, miss ... ? "

[loveologie]

 ( ! )         ♡          if  there  was  any  offense  to  be  had,  she  wagers  he’d  taken  it  with  good  humor  *  he  laughs  (  or  something  like  a  laugh  )  &  drinks,  watched  in  each  gesture  by  the  bright  blue  eyes  of  captured  youth,  just  happy  to  converse  with  someone  more  present  of  personality.

                     ❛❛  STACY.  gwendolyne  stacy,  ❜❜                   she  extends  a  hand,  lace  gloved  &  friendly  enough  for  his  taking.  at  the  head  of  the  stage  sits  a  large  display.  a  series  of  portraits  adorn  the  face  *  one  with  singular  rose  pinned  beside  it,  in  memory.  the  man  is  trim  &  stern,  with  eyes  as  soft  &  inviting  as  the  ones  that  look  its  way  before  she  continues  speaking.                     ❛❛  my  father  was  captain  george  stacy,  one  of  the  men  they’re  mentioning  with  honor  this  evening.  i  was  meant  to  go  dancing  with  my  friends,  but  there  was  someone  i  was  hoping  to  run  into  here  tonight.  ❜❜

[loveologie]

“i know it sounds childish, but i can't help believing some people are meant to find one another.”

( ! )         ♡          new  york  autumn  was  suited  too  perfectly  for  him,  gwen  sometimes   struggled  to  reconcile  that  he  was  winter  -  born  &  winter  -  fated.  golden  tinted  auburn,  the  chestnut  of  starling  freckles.  he  would  do  well  anywhere,  but  here  (  with  her  !  )  made  a  difference.  she  brushes  his  hair  back,  distracted  by  affection  &  tight  swell  of  love  seizing  her  chest.  robb’s  words  are  nearly  lost  *  muffled  beneath  skipping  heart.

                                                     ❛❛  hm  …  ?  ❜❜  

                       ❛❛  how  in  the  world  is  that  childish,  man  o’  mine  ?  that’s  plain  common  sense  in  my  world,  ❜❜                   the  breeze  picks  up  around  them,  scattering  fallen  leaves  &  dousing  gwendolyne  &  her  beau  in  a  surprising  dose  of  them.  a  laugh  &  she  ducks  pale  head  to  avoid  dried  foliage.                            ❛❛  if  you  never  came  to  new  york,  we  would’a  met  in  london,  handsome.  ❜❜

[loveologie]

you're not at all what i thought you would be.

 ( ! )         ♡          the  mood  was  light,  born  near  entirely  from  the  easy  access  to  an  abundance  of  champagne  handed  off  by  trim  -  suited  caterers  eager  for  a  good  impression.  gwen’s  all  good  graces  &  soft  smiles  *  the  room  seated  full  of  the  city’s  up   &  comers.  young  people  finely  skilled  in  a  wide  array  of  talents.  music,  art,  carpentry,  science.  strangers  with  aptitudes  in  areas  gwendolyne  found  incredibly  fascinating,  but  ---  in  competition  with  biochemistry  ---  inevitably  neglected  to  dive  much  into. fine  linen  tables  were  seated  alphabetically,  leaving  one  miss  stacy  &  another  miss  st.  just  elbow - to - elbow  &  shoulder  deep  with  barren  glasses. 

DIFFERENT  THAN  SHE  THOUGHT  ?  gwen  imagines  a  mousy  brunette,  her  thick  glasses  slipping  at  the  tip  of  her  nose  as  she  bends  inhumanly  over  rows  of  beakers,  an  outdated  microscope.  she  giggles,  the  laughter  mirror  champagne  bubbles  as  she  presses  the  back  of  her  hand  to  her  lips  *  tipsy,  sweet  toned.  gwendolyne  tucks  her  cheek  into  her  palm  as  she  speaks  : 

❛❛  did  you  expect  marie  curie ?  ❜❜

[loveologie]

might make a break down of gwen's personality / different aspects just to discuss but also bc i feel like it might help with plotting or interactions

[loveologie]

i've got some replies + ask answers done so i'll post them tomorrow

[loveologie]

Gwen’s parents being immigrants from Ireland and England and her mother dying when she’s young and having to take care of her elderly workaholic father and not having a support system outside of that bc their families are overseas and then taking on this same caretaker role for her friends who do Not return the same support for her in her times of need I’m sick

[gwendolynemaxine]

AN EVENING WITH THE STACYS, MANHATTAN, NEW YORK.  captain  stacy’s  home  is  old  world  charm  at  its  finest.  his  wife,  helen,  has  retired  early  following  dinner,  which  leaves  george  and  his  young  daughter  gwendolyne  to  entertain  themselves.  she  is  a  bright  young  girl,  nearly  four,  bubbly  and  enthusiastic.  father  and  daughter  make  themselves  comfortable  in  the  large  armchair  in  his  study  —  they  both  peer  over  a  large,  ornate  children’s  book  depicting  many  of  king  arthur’s  adventures.  

another informal discussion, this time about gwen's family history and how her upbringing affects her values and relationships (in constant state of editing)

george  stacy  was  born  in  england, the younger of two brothers. like  his  father  and  brother,  george  joined  the  military  following  his  education  before  entering  into  law  enforcement.  he  excelled  in  his  career,  earning  a  reputation  of  being  incorruptible  and  steadfast  in  his  morals. helen  thomas  was  born  in  ireland,  moving  to  london  in  her  early  twenties  to  pursue  a  career  in  journalism.  it  was  here  that  she  would  meet  and  eventually  marry  george  stacy.

his  work  later  brought  him  overseas  —  in  his  late  30s,  he  relocated  to  new  york  city  after  being  recruited  for  a  high  profile  murder  investigation.  helen  joined  him  and  the  couple  rented  a  house  in  queens  before  eventually  moving  into  the  upper  east  side  following  further  success  in  george’s  career.  queens,  however,  was  where  the  couple  eventually  managed  to  have  their  only  child  -  gwendolyne. gwen  was  barely  two  when  the  family  moved  out  of  queens.  being  their  only  child,  she  was  doted  on  tremendously  by  her  parents,  as  well  as  family  friends.  the  family  enjoyed  the  highlights  of  new  york  life  as  george  continued  to  climb  in  his  career.  gwen  did well in her  pricey  private  school.  unfortunately,  helen  was  diagnosed  with  a  critical  illness  as  her  only  daughter  entered  elementary  school.  gwen  took  a  role  of  caring  for  both  parents,  and  that  role  extended  to  her  father  exclusively  after  her  mother  passed  away  shortly  after  she  entered  middle  school.

gwen  befriends  harry  osborn  following  this  loss.  despite  the  tragedy,  gwen  is  able  to  maintain  her  grades.  her  father  throws  himself  into  his  work,  leaving  gwen  to  not  only  care  for  herself  but  to  care  for  him  as  well. 

gwen’s  childhood  was  filled  with  dreamy  fairy  tales  and  folk  tales  her  parents  brought  with  them  to  america  -  her  mother  doted  on  her,  buying  her  endless  dresses  and  bows,  dressing  her  up  and  running  around  central  park  with  her. being an only child with adoring parents results, very easily, in a child who expects the world to treat her the same. her father is a police officer characterized by his unshakeable morals. he is incorruptible, always sees the best in people, and did extremely well in his profession. because of all this, he became a major target for the worst new york had to offer. and also because of this, gwen saw a prime example for how to live. unapologetically, courageously, willing to do the right thing no matter the risk. gwen is a true product of her environment and it is so essential in how she navigates the world. her father's steadfast courage and faith launch her into situations over her head and she does not falter. she holds those same standards to the people closest to her. she is soft and warm, able to cater to others and care for them as well as be cared for in return.

[loveologie]

Gwen’s celeb crushes are Superman and captain America. She does NOT fuck with Bruce Wayne or Batman

[loveologie]

gwen and harry are so underrated as a pair that people forget that they're childhood best friends like the person closest to harry is gwen and vice versa like we meet these two in the same issue in the same panel and it's harry talking gwen up immediately n they are actually so important to me guys

[loveologie]

i'm gonna also say smth....the coffee bean gang was only friends bc of gwen if gwen was not there none of those losers would interact w each other

[loveologie]

gwen and harry are so underrated as a pair that people forget that they're childhood best friends like the person closest to harry is gwen and vice versa like we meet these two in the same issue in the same panel and it's harry talking gwen up immediately n they are actually so important to me guys

[thegoldenyearz]

Alain Delon and Marianne Faithfull on the set of Girl On A Motorcycle directed by Jack Cardiff, 1968