Chapter Text
THE VIDEO
The video starts with a still of an empty room, a floor-to-ceiling window to the left, the visible skyline indicating it's high on the ground and late in the afternoon. The floor is off white linoleum and the opposite wall is made of metal, painted with an opaque layer. There are two desks positioned in a L-shape, one unnaturally clean and void, the other so full it is a wonder nothing fell. Suddenly a chair wheels into the frame, the back towards the camera. The occupant tries to stop and turn around, but the momentum pushes them straight into the filled desk. An audible groan of pain turns into a panicked whisper when half of the things on the desk start to fall on the floor. Wheezed laughter can be heard from somewhere behind the camera and the person on the chair raises their middle finger in the general direction of the laugh. Then, the video stops and rewinds to the moment the chair slammed into the desk, the fall captured in slow motion with music in the background. After repeating those few seconds three times, each zooming more and more on the things falling, the video goes back to normal. The person on the chair turns around and, completely ignoring the disaster at their feet, waves at the camera. It is a teenager looking no older than sixteen with a head full of brown curls fixed back with a cat-eared lime green band, wearing pink Hello Kitty pajama pants, a long-sleeved shirt that had once been white with the Winx Club logo sparkling on the chest and blue house slippers shaped like a dragon. Something oily and dark is smudged on his forehead and he has a black choker with a gold pendant around his neck. The look in his huge chocolate eyes is slightly manic but he is beaming. He bounces on the chair, excitement evident on his baby face.
“Welcome” he finally says, dragging the vowels longer than necessary. He stops, frowning.
“We don't have an intro!” he screams, jumping on his feet and miraculously managing to remain on his chair, “Harley, we need an intro!”
At that, another teenager enters the frame. This one is tall, definitely taller than his partner, with blond strands in a man bun and blue eyes. He wears a Stitch onesie, the hood down and the zip open enough to see the Black Sabbath shirt he has underneath, and Spider-man flip-flops paired with violet sparkly fuzzy socks, a cut separating the big toe from the rest Japanese-style. Peeking from his onesie collar is a dark blue choker with a rose gold pendant and three lines of the same oily dark stuff on the other's forehead are visible on the underside of his jaw, like he scratched himself with dirty fingers. His hands are stained with red ink, but his pads are black. His eyes holds the same manic glint and he's smirking.
“We could always leave it to FRIDAY” he tells his companion, who solemnly nods before jumping down, chair skidding behind him.
“Well, then. FRI, roll the intro!” the still unnamed teenager shouts.
The screen turns black and the words Impossible Science BF fades in. The scene changes to the same bit of room from before, only tidied up. Two rolly chairs are in the middle, both occupied. The people on them swivel around at the same time, revealing themselves to be the same two teenagers from the first few minutes. Floating above their heads are the names “Potato Gun Boy” and “Cryptid Kid TM”.
“This is Peter” says Cryptid Kid TM.
“And this is Harley” adds Potato Gun Boy.
“Welcome to Impossible Science, where we do stupid shit that occasionally works for both yours and our entertainment” they finish together.
“An' now, the intro” Harley drawls in an exaggerated Southern accent.
The screen turns black again, Peter's name written in the middle in red MV Boli font. A series of short clips follows, all with no audio and the Mii theme in the background:
Peter running through a door, sliding on the wooden floor of a living room and falling flat on his face when his socked feet meet the carpet. Peter bent over a desk, fiddling with something unseen, a screwdriver in his mouth and a focused but relaxed look on his face that turns into panic half a second before the thing in his hands explodes. Peter ugly crying as Mufasa dies on an unnecessary huge TV, wrapped around an Iron Man body pillow. Peter wearing a Spider-man blanket as a cape and pink bows in his hair, striking a heroic pose just as something small and orange topples him over. Peter with a pair of scissor in one hand and the end of a heavy-looking expensive curtain in the other, obviously threatening to cut it and sending smug looks to someone out of frame. Peter asleep with multiple objects balanced on his body, including but not limited to: four cans of tuna, a book, a banana, a phone charger, a shoe box, a Play Station joystick and a Wii controller vertical on his forehead; a hand striking a V pose in the space above his head.
This time, when the screen turns black it's Harley's name that's written in the middle in blue Verdana font; like it had been for Peter a series of silent clips begin to roll, but with the Mario Kart OST instead of the Mii theme in the background:
Harley with a crazy looking gun in hands, aiming and firing at the window, lips saying not to worry since the windows were bulletproof to Peter, who is visible through the reflection on the glass, only to pull the most ridiculous shocked expression when the potato he just fired shatters said bulletproof window. Harley drinking a glass of clear golden apple juice and chocking on it, liquid spraying all over the kitchen counter. Harley working under a broken car and rolling out, only to miscalculate the distance and hit his head of the bottom of it. Harley jumping up and down on a precarious stack made of a desk, a three-legged stool cranked to his maximum height and a cardboard box, trying to reach an arrow embedded on the wall, his fingers just barely closing of it before his tower topples over and he's left hanging with nearly two meters between his feet and the ground. Harley wearing a too-short princess dress above gym pants and a plastic tiara, looking dead inside, two inches heels on and gripping the doorway he stands in like a lifeline, very clearly failing to walk on them.
The screen goes dark one last time, both their names in the center, still in their personalized fonts, with explosions sounds going on in the background. Two unmuted clips follow, featuring both of them:
Peter and Harley screaming at each other while a desk is on fire, a robot spaying foam on it.
“Do not mix water and alkali metals! Harley, you know that!”
“Shut up! I'm a mechanical engineer, not a chemist!”
“It's the first thing they teach you in chemistry, idiot!”
Peter and Harley curled up on the couch, the already seen Spider-ma blanket around both of them, yelling very creative threats at the TV playing a children cartoon.
“I will use ya spine like a fucking xylophone if ya do that, don't test me, bitch. He did it. FRI, where do we keep the metal chopsticks?”
“Oh, c'mon! You parasite infested starving vulture, how could you do that? I will turn you into a sad knockoff of a Thanksgiving stuffed chicken!”
The intro finishes at just over a minute long and the video shifts to an out-of-focus shot of the lab. The focus snaps back on and the two teenagers figures appear, in the exact same positions they were when the intro started, indicating that they initial bit of it was shot before everything else.
“So, what do we do now?” the now identified Peter asks. Harley looks at him like he's stupid and Peter bristles.
“What? We didn't decide exactly what we were working on. You just said anything from Star Wars and I agreed, because Stars Wars. Is. Life” at that Harley looks a little sheepish, which means that Peter's right.
“Okay, fine. We did not get into the specifics” as he's talking he moves towards the clean desk and nonchalantly climbs it. Standing on the desk he surveys the rest of the room and, after a few seconds, he makes a victorious noise.
“Ah-ah. Darlin', how far are you with the chemistry bit of the lightsabers?”
“Fairly far. I'm pretty close to figuring it out”
“Perfect! Lightsabers shall be” he smacks his lips together before climbing down the desk.
The scene cuts to a different location, still in the same room, considering the wall in the background and the desks of the same style as the ones from before. The two are now behind their own desk or, rather, a long table fashioned into two separated work spaces. Peter's is filled with vials, beakers and other chemistry looking equipment. Harley's has an open tool box by his feet, pieces of metal and other materials spread all over the top and a collection of different screwdrivers in a corner. They don't waste time as they start to work, a speedy montage showing each station and the corresponding voice illustrating what they're doing. The explanations a both helpful and not, since they only talk about the process rather than materials; it's the kind of explanation that let's you understand what's going on but doesn't give enough information for you to replicate what they're doing. Sometimes, entire steps are skipped over or it's explained, but never shown. Peter's voice over is a lot more expressive than Harley's, filled with sound effects and movie references as he mixes dangerous chemicals like he's baking a new batch of cookies. Harley speaks calmly and tends to finish his sentences with variations of “like this”. The montage ends with a dual victorious yell and fireworks exploding on the screen.
The location changes again and now it shows a huge desk with four beakers full of different colored liquids, three round plastic containers with fine powders in it, the dissected handle Harley was building earlier and various tools of different size and material. Both of them are sitting at the desk behind their materials. One might think that watching two people assemble something that requires a lot of procedures most people can't even begin to understand might be boring, but words flow easily between them as they engage in idle conversations raging from bitchy classmates to robot pets to what to eat for dinner. They bicker like they've know each other their all life, no heat behind their banter. Harley has just finished recounting an hilarious meeting Peter had with a cow, Peter unsuccessfully trying to make him stop, when they reach the second step of the lightsabers building. While mixing the chemicals in front of him Peter takes revenge on the other as he launches on a painfully detailed tale of the first time Harley went on the subway alone, claiming that it couldn't be that difficult and then promptly getting lost for six hours. Harley glares at him from his position, but does nothing physical to interrupt Peter; still, he glowers and grumbles, aware that Peter picked this exact moment in order to limit his moves. However, the second Peter raises his hands from his solution, Harley pouches and they go toppling on the floor, disappearing behind the desk. Peter lets out an outraged quack that dissolves into laughter, immediately joined by Harley's own.
There's a cut and the new scene features them back in their seat, semi-assembled handle in front of them. The multiple beakers and containers are nowhere to be seen, now substituted by a tall glass full of clear liquid and a small open circular box of fine blue powder. Reaching for a tiny screwdriver Harley starts to speak:
“So, we have only two steps left before we can say this is ready for testing. First, we need to make sure the handle can contain and make the chemicals flow like we want them to. Second, we need to pour the chemicals inside with the catalyst and stabilizer”
“Third” Peter chimes in, “make sure it does not explode” Harley points at him with his screwdriver and nods.
“Third, make sure it does not explode” he repeats, “but how do we do that? you may ask. Well, this is the time were you have absolutely zero power. It either explodes or it doesn't. The timing is also out of your sphere of control. Does it suck? Yes, very much so” by his side Peter shudders and looks behind the camera, the words war flashbacks appearing on his forehead as the video zooms on his eyes and ominous music plays in the background.
After the video returns to normal, Peter says:
“Well, the goal is not making it explode, since Mom is defo gonna kill us if we singe our eyebrows again and explode the lab again. So, fingers crossed it works. Let's do this” and then he pumps a fist in the air, a completely deadpan expression on. Harley lets out a bark of laughter at that, but doesn't negate the claim. He passes the tiny screw driver to Peter and he reaches out to take another one. They bend over the handle as the conversation start to flow again, now less focused on snarking each other up.
“By the way, what did Dad ask to keep you busy for so long?” Peter questions as he carefully twists his screwdriver. He doesn't specify a timeline, but the other understands anyway. Harley, who's keeping the pieces steady, sighs and it's obvious by they way his eyebrows move that if he wasn't he would shake his head.
“Yah think that being a genius also gives you great memory. Apparently not” his tone is dripping with sarcasm and the start of the rest of the sentence is equally drenched in it, “Esteemed Father asked me where he left Momo's present. A present I was unaware of, since it's nowhere near her birthday and not a holiday” hearing that Peter frowns, before interrupting the other.
“Wait, couldn't he have asked FRI?” he asks, confusion painted on his face. Harley barks out a sound that fluctuates the border between sarcastic and incredulous, his chin shooting up.
“Oh-oh, you're gon' love this, darlin'. Esteemed Father” again he underlines the term with enough emphasis that it becomes very evident he's calling him that to annoy him, “shut FRI down before hiding it so Mo could not ask her, no matter what she tried. Which make sense since Mo's more resourceful than any two-year-old should ever be, but ONLY if he does it while well-rested and awake enough to actually remember where he put it” Peter's definitely laughing, given the way his shoulders shake. He gives up keeping it down as Harley lets go of the handle and starts to act his words in the middle of his monologue. He giggles and he manages to croak out a “When he is ever?” after Harley's said “well-rested and awake”, which makes the other gesture at him with both hands rather forcefully without stopping.
“I told him that and he must have knew I was right because he only glared at me, he didn't even threaten me a little. I was then forced to look for it with him for the next half hour, which was not in my plans”
“Did you find it, at least? Dad didn't give Mo any presents, of that I'm sure” Peter's laughter calms enough for him to ask that. He promptly loses it again at Harley's answer:
“No. We did not find. And ya know why? Because it didn't exist in the first place!” he nearly shouts at the end, annoyance and exasperation coloring his tone and expression. He doesn't laugh, but Peter's uncontrollable giggling make a smile appear on his face. The video rewinds a little a zooms on Harley's face, an edited explosion making his head fume while his face turns an alarming fake shade of red.
The scene cuts and some time must have passed since now they are both serious. They are in the middle of a conversation about the pro and cons of ordering food versus raiding the mini fridge they have in their lab. As they bicker a time stamp appears in the middle of the screen, font size growing at a steady pace until it's so huge the screen cuts it off. It reads 00:43 a.m., which means that the amount of places open and doing delivery is almost zero. Neither Peter nor Harley seem to realise that. Luckily they settle in eating whatever food it's in the fridge. Peter disappears from the frame and reappears two seconds later, the abrupt change in Harley's position indicating the time Peter spent rummaging the fridge got edited out. In Peter's arms are: a can of syrup peaches, a tub of mint chocolate ice cream, a Tupperware full of assorted cookies and a greasy paper bag with french fries peeking from the top; clenched in his hands are a pair of spoons, a fork and disposable napkins. Peter puts his goodies down on the tabletop and Harley is quick to steal the canned peaches. Peter swats his shoulder, but he's smiling. He gives Harley his spoon and the fork while setting the napkins in between them. Then, he sits and grabs both the ice cream and the fries. He opens the tub and stabs his spoon in it as he frees the french fries. He proceeds to eat his fries after scooping a little bit of ice cream on each one. Harley looks at him with mild disgust and resignation, while he bites into his overly sweet slices of fruit. It's Peter turn to look disgusted when he opens the Tupperware and dips a frosted vanilla cookie into the syrup.
The video freezes and a numbered list transitions into the still-frame from below: “1. Do not try at home. Very hazardous for your health; 2. Yes, the boys were told multiple times by multiple people to stop eating sweets and/or junk food in the dead of the night; 3. They were also told to sleep at night; 4. No, they did not listen, even with the looming threat of Real Consequences TM”. The screen goes black and another time stamp fills it, this time reading 1:21 a.m.
When Peter and Harley reappear the food is nowhere to be seen and they are working on the handle again. Selecting a wench, Harley asks Peter:
“So, darlin', why did you tumble out of the elevator this morning? I forgot to ask” Peter grimaces and he looks at the ceiling. Harley smirks at him like he knows something the audience does not. They work as Peter speaks:
“Okay, so. Remember two days ago when I lost that round of rock paper scissors and I had to go downstairs to the organic lab?” at Harley's sound of affirmation Peter continues “I went in with no fuss and started going around collecting what we needed. I had just found the last thing on our list, which was also the last bottle of Salicylic Acid the lab had, by the way, so I sang my little victory song – like I always do when I'm winning something but without the dance, since I was chest deep in the cabinet and couldn't move without accidentally killing myself. So, yeah, I extracted myself from the cabinet and gathered my stolen goods to come back and then I made the mistake of looking up. And nothing, there was this guy in the middle of the room – I swear I neither hear him enter or saw him when I first got in, which is strange since I usually notice this type of things. And, like, we stare a each other silently, both not knowing what to do. And then I spy a steaming cup of coffee in the guys hands – which, same bro same – and I had an idea. In hindsight, that wasn't really smart – especially since Mom told me to stop doing shit like that – but at that time I was running on the cat nap from three hours before, two Redbulls and pure, unadulterated spite so it sounded like a legit idea”
“Oh, God, what did you do?”
“Don't worry, it's nothing dangerous, just embarrassing. So, going back to my ridiculous idea. Okay, now picture me with my harms full of chemicals and a flabbergasted employee in front of me. I look at him dead in the eyes while shifting the weight so one of my arms was free. And then I just, snap my fingers in front of his face, swaying my arm a little, and say something like “You didn't see me, I was never here” in this deep, whimsical voice, like a total idiot. And before he had the chance to even process what the heck happened, I fled”
“Wait a sec, darlin'. Do you mean you just tried to use the Mist like in Percy Jackson?” Harley asks, at Peter's miserable nod he bursts laughing. Peter looks even more miserable before admitting:
“That's not even the worst part” Harley laughter turns into giggles as he motions the other to continue with his tale. Peter does so, miserable look gone.
“So, I obviously totally forgot about this happening until I was forcibly reminded. This morning I went down again to steal – I mean get – one of their centrifuges. It was like five-twenty a.m, so I thought the lab was empty. It was not. I exit the elevator with the plan of going in and out in like two minutes, but life had other plans. When I went in, there were three people inside, including the guy I saw, not that I knew at that time, like I said, I completely forgot that interaction even happened. Contrary to me, the guy did remember me, considering he went white when he saw me. I didn't say anything because the only thing floating in my mind was “Hi, I'm here to steal your centrifuge” and no matter how sleep deprived I was I somehow realized that saying that was not good. The point is, the guy looks at me and, white as a sheet, goes “Oh my God, you're real. I'm seeing things again” in a little hysterical voice, and apparently not blurting out my criminal tendencies took all of my brain-to-mouth filter because my answer was along the lines of “Yes, you are”. I still had no idea of who this guy was, so the “again” confused the hell out of me, I mean, I was pretty sure I'd never met him in my life, and considering he was poc with blue eyes I would've remembered meeting him. And then my eyes fell on his mug, still steaming and full of coffee, and the memories just reappear like they were never gone. And I'm like, super embarrassed 'cause the guy saw me ransacking his lab in my pajamas at two in the morning and then pull a crazy stunt taken from a YA urban fantasy book. The point is, I did not sleep a wink in between that cat nap and now, so I was still running on that little sleep and spite, only with way more Redbulls than two days ago. The only two braincells assigned to resolve this situation thought that sprinting to the nearest centrifuge and then sprint back to the elevator was a good idea. So I did that, I run to the only unoccupied desk with that fancy self-spinning centrifuge, stole it and then started to make my way out. By the time I was going back the people inside the lab had metabolized the shock and started to speak. I did not stop to listen to what they were saying and just... nosedove into the open elevator with my stolen centrifuge, yelling “up, up, up” at FRI” as Peter finishes his story, Harley is already howling with laughter, tools forgotten on the desk. Peter himself doesn’t seem too mortified and even has a small smile on his face, in contrast to the embarrassed look he sported seconds before.
“Oh God, this is too funny, why was I not told of this earlier?” Harley manages to wheeze out; then, he lights up like a Christmas tree and looks towards the ceiling, “hey, FRI, tell me you have footage of that”.
Before his inquiry is answered Peter tackles him out of chair screaming. They roll around on the floor in a mock fight until Peter pins Harley to the ground, a victorious smirk curling his lips. Harley grumbles about cheating and being unfair, but Peter doesn't release him until he admits he lost.
The scene cuts to them working on the desk, their appearance still a little disheveled. They have matching grins on their faces and they discuss the next step in the building process, which is pouring the chemicals in. Peter slowly adds the powder to the liquid and mixes the solution, whose only reaction is to turn blue. Both boys whoops in joy, indicating that this was a delicate part they didn't have the certainty would work. Calming down Harley holds the handle vertical to the desk while Peter, very carefully, adds a funnel and slowly pours the solution in it. Closing the opening with a little click they stop breathing; when nothing happens in the next ten seconds they beam at each other.
Suddenly a voice calling the boys' names is heard in the background. Harley and Peter's heads turn so fast it is a miracle the camera does not pick up any cracking, they look at each other with eyes as wide as sources, panic painted all over their faces. Half a second of silence and then they scramble up, the newly finished lightsaber falling with a dull clung on the floor; there's a faint click before the lightsaber sets itself on fire, which starts a chain reaction of other fires. They jump away from the flames as a robot zooms in frame, nozzle already spraying foam.
“ABORT MISSION! I REPEAT ABORT-” Peter screams before his abrupt collision with Harley cuts off his voice.
The video finishes as they hit the floor, littered by objects on fire and foam.
THE VIDEO ORIGIN
The idea came to them unbidden and to their ridiculously sleep deprived brains it sounded like the best idea they ever had. Which was... debatable. But they had a collective sleep time of six hours in five days, so their ability to determinate good from not good was in shambles. They had excitedly listed what they needed to make it real. Things like: a channel name, what kind of content they wanted to post, if and how they needed personas, how to film, who did the editing. In the next half an hour they decided their name (which took twenty-five minutes by itself), their first video's content (kind of, they looked around the lab and picked the first not-classified item they saw) and who will take care of filming, editing and posting (thank you, FRIDAY). They had elected to not have personas and just be themselves, considering Peter was a shitty liar and Harley was a shitty actor (he could lie just fine, but putting on a character? They tried once and never did it again). Having finished their very brief brain-storming session, they instructed FRIDAY to record until told not to, then edit to make the video an acceptable twenty minutes max and post it on their brand new YouTube Channel (linked to their shared e-mail). FRIDAY, true to her programming, did just that. She recorded their shenanigans as they tinkered with their Star Wars lightsaber design. Peter took care of the chemistry of how the fuck shall we make light solid, while Harley took over the more mechanical engineering part of the handle. Luckily it was something they were already working on so it didn't take too long for them to figure out how to bring the schematics to life. After that came the assembling, which they worked together on. It was near the end of it, when they were close to finish their first prototype that Tony's voice filtered in from the door. In their panic, because they were not supposed to be there, goddammit, it was two and half in the morning of a Sunday night, Peter and Harley dropped everything they had in their hands, including the prototype lightsaber that promptly caught fire as it hit the floor. Jumping away from both the flames and DUM-E Peter started screaming:
“ABORT MISSION! I REPEAT ABORT-” he was cut off by Harley's chest as he smashed right into it. FRIDAY took that as the signal to stop recording and start editing. And, since nobody told her otherwise, she ended up posting her finished product as previously instructed.
THE CONSEQUENCE
When the video was uploaded on the newly made YouTube Channel it was 3:23 in the morning and the two stars were snoring, tangled up, in their bed, blissfully ignorant of the fact. It was posted by FRIDAY with the title WE MADE WORKING LIGHTSABERS FROM STAR WARS! (FOR REAL!!!), which matched the manic and exuberant energy of the video itself.
When they woke up, fifteen hours later, they did it to hysterical laughter and general yelling. Confused, they made their way to the living room, eyes barely open and sleep still clinging to their heavy limbs. Once there, they found Tony laughing his ass off, rolling on the floor in front of the TV, while Pepper glared at him with blue-tooth earphones on, clearly on a phone call, a tablet in hand and three different screens on the low table in front of her. FRIDAY was running some sort of control, given the various numbers displayed on the TV, and occasionally chimed in with an information that Pepper needed. Even more confused than before Peter and Harley looked at each other, then at the chaos taking place in their living room, only then noticing Happy passed out on one of the smaller sofas.
“What the hell is happening here?” at Harley's shout both Pepper and Tony stopped doing what they were doing to look at them. Tony managed three seconds of silence before starting to wheeze again. Pepper gave him the stink eyes, but it did nothing to quench his giggling. She hung up her call and rose from her place on the couch. Still with her tablet she made way towards the teenagers, a mixture of feelings on her face.
“That is something you could tell me, PR nightmares” she said with a stern look.
“Why would we know what's happening, we were asleep till three minutes ago!” Peter exclaimed, indignant.
“No, seriously, Pepper. We have no idea” Harley continued. Which was the truth, they truly had zero clue.
“So, you had no idea that posting that video would bring a PR storm?”
“What video?”
“The YouTube video you guys filmed last night and instructed FRIDAY to post once she finished editing”
“THE WHAT WE WHAT?”
And that's how Peter and Harley became internet famous with no real recollection of ever filming the video that skyrocked them into fame. The funniest thing? People didn't realize that the voice at the end had been Tony's until after the video went viral.
THE INTERNET REACTION
When the video first hit the web people didn't immediately make the connection between two genius teenagers in a lab far more advanced than anything most viewers have ever seen and a certain Billionaire Superhero. And why should they? Neither Peter nor Harley name dropped anyone publicly connected to the Starks and, while it's common knowledge that Tony Stark had a super fancy AI, nobody actually knew her name, so them talking to FRIDAY didn't give anything away, especially since she never actually responded to them. It took the video going viral and people starting to break it up and analyze it for the Internet to realize that there's more to the Peter and Harley than two smart, rich teenagers. All social media platforms crashed for three hours when the news was revealed. Everyone was freaking out and theories came in so fast it was hard to keep track of them all. There was no one on the internet willing to leave with no answers. Which was the reason why Peter and Harley walked into the chaos in their living room, nearly fifteen hours after the video was posted.
When the platforms started to connect again, they risked another crash before stabilizing.
The craziness of the situation was very easily summarised by the comments under the video, which reached four digits mere hours after it went up.
COMMENTS UNDER WE MADE WORKING LIGHTSABERS FROM STAR WARS! (FOR REAL!!!) [Extract]
@Sam the cat
IS THAT TONY FUCKING STARK, AT THE VERY END OF THE VIDEO [most relevant]
839 comments
@Sceince Fiction
Are we even sure this is real? * skeptic face *
345 comments
@Charlie Southtimber
I clicked bc of STAR WARS. I DID NOT EXPECT THE CHAOTIC ENERGY
@Granny Smiths
@Charlie Southtimber I KNOW, RIGHT?!
@NedInTheChair
PETER?!?!?!?!?!
@Molly
So, question of the century. WHAT THE FUCK DOES BF STAND FOR? Boyfriends?? best friends??? brothers forever or brothers [insert surname that starts by F]?? who the fuck knows, the clues are alL OVER THE PLACE, GODDAMMIT
@WoW
@Molly I support the brothers theory, they look nothing like each other but like they may be half brothers or step brothers, or even take from different parents (my brother is a copy of my mother and I look like my father, which means that we do not look like siblings at all). Peter used the terms Mom and Dad like he and Harley shared them and Harley uses a different term but it's definitely the same person referred.
@CarolPrince34
@Molly @WoW They do not feel like brother AT ALL, they look like me and my girlfriend do when we hide in plain sight right in the middle of her living room full of obsessively religious folks. That said, the pet names and the comfortable air they share has to be romantic
@iceking
@Molly @WoW @CarolPrince34 BEST FRIENDS
@whypeopleneedsleep
@Molly The nature of their relationship it's not our business. Leave them alone
@YAOI4321
@Molly @WoW QUEER GENIUSES IN SCIENCE
@D3
@Molly
Dude, who cares what they are to each other, I want their relationship
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