#and i can't pinpoint where the line is which is funny to me

[everyonehatestherisotto]

i think one of the hardest parts (lighthearted) about being in the stranger things fandom is keeping quiet when i want to scream “that wasn’t a thing in the eighties!!!” or “that’s not how that thing worked”

[kerubimcrepin]

Episode 47 - Indie

It is cute to see that indie is still friends with all the people he met during his adolescence.

Cough-cough. Unlike certain other people.

His and Kerubim's life stories are in direct opposition. If one of them ever spoke of their childhood, chances are, the other one would be like, "You have no parents? Well MINE was controlling so you have it better, WET-NOSE" or "You had a shit parent? WELL, AT LEAST YOU DIDN'T HAVE HIM DIE IN FRONT OF YOU WHEN YOU WERE 5."

No wonder they hate each other's asses.

Though, it is funny how both of them had fathers who had always acted like no matter what they do, they will never be good enough.

It's a shame we hadn't seen these friends of Lou's during the series. They have nice designs, especially the yellow one.

Not a Jurgen-Crepin food moment, but this might be useful for pinpointing which fruits exist within the setting.

Patafiks is so funny to me, like... Guys there are 5.5 characters in the animated shows who are canonically queer in some way. One of them fucking sucks, one of them dies within the 20 minutes of being introduced, the 0.5 of them is Kerubim Crepin's ambiguous gender dysphoria, the normal two are Simone and Julie, and the last one is a dogboy yandere (who briefly dated("dated") Kerubim Crepin).

We live in a society.

Indie talks about Kerubim the same way I talk about him on this blog. We are so alike...

Insert "this bitch always starting shit" meme here.

Even though Ouginaks and Ecaflips both follow the same god, — albeit his different sides, — this perfectly showcases the difference in ideology that makes them hate one another.

While Ecaflips are all about mysticism, destiny, prophetising, and simply letting the current flow, Ouginaks are all about making their destiny.

Though I will be real, considering the things Ecaflip puts his demigods through, — like the, uh, son leaderboard within his dimension, or his treatment of Kerubim, (and his hatred of women, I guess, since there is no daughter leaderboard?) — as well as the Ecaflip City and its Ecaflip Psychward, I think his two personalities are more alike than we are led to believe.

It's just that the kitty personality has more glitz, and is better at masking being just as sadistic.

This line really puts how long they've known each other into perspective. God.

It also makes me think hard about the tendency of Ankama to not make distinct visual designs for characters aging, — like in Waven. Despite 30 years having passed between season 1 of Wakfu, and the start of Waven, characters like Miranda and Kabrok still look exactly the same.

I had always associated young Kerubim's design with the age range of 19-30 at best, but who's to say he can't, in this episode, be in his 40s-50s? How many years did he and Lou live together for? And how large is the gap of that unaccounted for part of Kerubim's life, the one that he never opens up about, after Lou had left him?

...I think I hauve covid.

Y'know what, I think I will be insane for a minute, and say this:

Joris, Atcham, and Kerubim really are like platonic soulmates. It feels like every single thing in their lives somehow rhymes, — like every single step they took simply brought them close to the inevitable conclusion of being together.

Sure, whatever, just tell me things like "Atcham knew, and worked with Julith, and they had a pretty amicable relationship", "Yeah Kerubim and Indie rescued the Ivory Dofus that would one day lead to Joris's birth, and then would lead to his orphanhood", "Yeah Kerubim has always wanted to be a father, and felt a certain way about kids being orphaned the same way he was", "Yeah Atcham and Kerubim went to the same war where Julith and Jahash fell in love and were probably their seconds-in-command."

Tell me that. Expect me to be normal about it. I promise I won't disappoint you.

Anyway,

I always found it very interesting that, despite becoming the Champion of Bonta, it was not Indie who went to that war, but Kerubim.

Perhaps Indie was long happily retired by that point, — perhaps he veered from adventuring into archaeology, for his museum, — while Kerubim was old, with no friends, and not much to live for anymore.

It probably was a self-destruction thing, in the "Atcham, and The Butcher of Brakmar herself, will be there. I'm so bored, and tired... It will be poetic if I defeat them, or die trying to. Then I'll be a legend. Also, there are a lot of people at wars, maybe one of them will be friendly to me :3" way.

World of Twelve heroes are always doing this shit. 💀 though considering he can't die, this isn't even suicidal ideation. It's ideation-ideation. God.

Despite everything, Kerubim does care about Indie, a lot. Indie seems to have cared for him too, — but, at times, I really do wonder if Kerubim's feelings for him ran much deeper than Indie's.

Every sign of genuine emotion is laughed at, and a genuine "I had always respected you" gets a downright haunting "yeah, and your taxidermied head will look nice in my museum when you die".

That must hurt, doesn't it?

It's funny, how life works out. Just like Kerubim, he ended up raising his kid in a completely opposite way than how he was raised. And then he dies, and his kid gets taken in by Kerubim, — who has already taken in the child of his another enemy.

...The implications of Lilotte's life make me sad. Unlike Joris, she didn't grow up in a hazardous, infested, hoarding environment. Indie was likely not mentally ill to the shits. Yet Joris's worst nightmare, — his father passing away, and him being forced to fend for himself, — actually happened to her, immediately ripping away the normal, maybe even privileged, life she had. And it just compounds the sense of loss she already had for her birth parents.

Unlike Joris, who grew up wondering vaguely about his birth family, it seems like much more of a sore spot, with her attachment to her bell...

(Off topic but, god, it's so Bonta-core, that the adoptive daughter of a previous champion of Bonta, who had a museum and was rich, ended up on the streets like a stray. I hate that city so much, it's unreal.)

She uses some pretty dark humor to cope with that. I mean, she already lost two families. No way in hell she's losing a third one. Which kinda harkens back to Kerubim's own backstory, and his own loss of the entire Crepin family, save for Atcham.

I think it's cute that, just like him, — she becomes a mother at some point in her life. Maybe it's because she looked up to Kerubim, who had a similar life story to hers, and that inspired her. Maybe it's just something she wanted, even without thinking of Kerubim's own orphan to dad pipeline.

But either way, it's like poetry — it rhymes.

[stingraywipe]

What’s your top three beloved Pokemon? And if you have them— your top three most hated Pokemon?

omg hi Sofie!! :0 Get ready because I have a whole lot to say about this.

Most Beloved:

Number 1: Squirtle

My absolute favorite is squirtle. What's funny about this is I can't really pinpoint a specific reason why I like him so much. My first pokemon game was alpha sapphire, and I didn't play gen 1 until Let's Go Eevee, so it's not a nostalgia factor. I think my brain just subconsciously selected him back when I was watching the Indigo League anime in middle school. The squirtle squad showed up and my brain was like "Yeah. This guy. He's awesome. This is the one." And he has been my number 1 favorite fella ever since then, and as a consequence he is the pokemon I have the most merch of and it isn't really close.

Please keep in mind this is just what I have in my apartment where I live for college, and that I have even more stuff in my bedroom back at home. Now that I think about it, Koopa Troopa is my favorite mario character, so maybe I have an affinity for characters that are just little turtles. Either way, water is also my favorite type, which means even more bonus points for squirtle.

Number 2: Riolu

Riolu's high ranking has been somewhat of a recent development for me. I've always liked lucario, but I didn't see the light that was riolu until after I watched Pokemon Journeys. Ash's riolu was so silly and adorable, and I always felt so bubbly inside when he was on screen. This shift in my preference is probably due to me developing a major soft spot for cute characters/creatures over the past few years. Most of my favorite pokemon at this point are just little guys because of it. Anyways, the reason I like him so much is because of the aura control him and lucario are capable of. I've always loved aura as a power system; the idea of being able to harness one's own life energy and see it in others is just so cool to me. I especially like how it's established as its own concept outside of moves in pokemon, making it something super unique that only riolu's evolutionary line can take advantage of. I have a lot of lore/worldbuilding ideas for PMD that would utilize aura. For example, Milo, the protagonist of the PMD verse I've been brainstorming, on is a riolu with much stronger aura than normal due to him being a pokemon with a human soul. I have a lot of ideas for how I could use this concept to drive plot points or character arcs, and I might share more in the future if I ever get time to start solidifying a story.

By the way, Milo's partner, Lilly, is a squirtle. No way I don't give both of my two favorites the spotlight.

Number 3: Sprigatito

My love of sprigatito is really quite simple. I love cats. So much. They are easily my number one favorite animal of all time. My Instagram feed is covered in them. So imagine my excitement when I saw that one of the new generation 9 starters was a kitty. My violet team is my favorite team I've ever used in a pokemon game, and the sprigatito line is a massive part of why I love it so much. Sprigatito is adorable, and my meowscarada was so much fun to use after he evolved. On top of that, sprigatito's depiction in Pokemon Horizons makes me love it even more. It's literally just a cat. It loafs. It makes biscuits.. It gets annoyed at the mildest inconvenience. Liko squishes its beans. Plus it releases a super sweet scent when you cuddle it as a bonus. It's so perfect. It's like Game Freak was like "Yeah this is the perfect pokemon for Ray, put it in the game." I have a sprigatito character in my PMD verse named Mayple, but I can't share much about her because it would mean dropping pretty big spoilers for a plot point I have planned.

Honorable Mentions: Greninja and Ceruledge

I love ninjas. I love frogs. Greninja is both. And ceruledge is just objectively one of the coolest pokemon designs ever.

In terms of behated pokemon, I don't have many that I personally despise. It's more so that I feel indifferent about them, and I would simply prefer not to use them on my teams. Usually I don't have any real reason to dislike the ones I do hate; I think it just stems from a gut feeling. The biggest one off the top of my head is the tepig line. I don't know what it is, something just feels off about them. I also dislike incineroar. I like litten and torracat a lot, but they really dropped the ball with the final evolution for me.

That's about all I have. This was really fun to do! Thank you so much for submitting this ask. I look up to you and your work a lot, and it made my night when I got the notification. I'm still pretty new to Tumblr, so I don't know exactly how I'm supposed to do things around here. I want to try to meet more people here, but my social anxiety and tendency to overthink online interactions usually shuts down anything before it can happen. Because of that, being able to answer something simple like this means a lot!! Thank you!! :D

[ofmermaidstories]

"You always do this, he thinks bleakly. Why do you always do this? Try to laugh at yourself—you’re not even that funny."

Pleaaase I snorted, scoffed and cackled so hard my roommate woke up (I was reading at like 3 am). Who does he think he is‼️‼️‼️‼️he is such a little shit lmfaooo

It is so in line with his character tho😭 He is so understanding most of the time but when irritated he goes straight to where it hurts!!!! Mineta wouldn't have thought that of me😤

Also I love how you subtly added the freak deku in this lol. He is so possessive ( his his his), protective, to the point where he can't think straight when it comes to reader. Like he has to keep the sketchbook, which he views as an unfiltered representation of our mind with him 24/7... So much is happening around him that we kinda look past the fact that he knows our address, the "bridal white", his jealousy spreads to his friends -his friends!- and that his need to both give us everything and have our everything borders on obsession. .. then again was there ever anything he loved that didn't turn into an obsession? It truly is just in his nature.

Lucky for him that's how I like them.

I was suspicious of his arm bc of the constant mention and I was right!! Sadly

Also

"desperate to press into you everything he’s wanted to say: that he wants you. That you’re perfect. That it’s this he wants, something just like this—his lips against your skin, the sharpness of your gasps."

I see the title drop!!!!!

Sorry long ask I just needed to ramble off here for a sec.

Magnificent writing as always. It's the first time I identify so much with a reader lol "vicious, fragile" yeah......

Thank you for the time you took! I know this one was hard on you and your efforts truly shine through this work!!

LMFAO STOP, you know Mineta would say something heinous like, “Baby you’re the funniest person here, and you know what they say about laughing 😏” (no one ever says anything weird about laughing, he’s just opportunistic!!!)

But you’re right though. 😭 All that pinpointed astuteness of Izuku’s means he could be absolutely devastating in his observations, if he cared to be. 😭

My favourite thing about Izuku in fanon though is how quickly his canon personality can be, like, dangerous LOL. The only thing that tempers it is his natural sweetness, his sheer determination to do good!! Like he is absolutely hyperfixating on Scribbles, and maybe if he didn’t have access to like, idk, government power then maybe it’d be more the harmless sort of limerence we can all tend to experience. But he does, so it’s not, LOL. Idk I’m joking but I’ve gone into these fics (and indeed, just canon on the whole) with a certain sort of expectation that not one of the Hero cast (or villain!) would ever do a relationship normally. The stakes would always be high from the get-go; from the moment they realise they care.

You also hit the nail on the head with this, though—was there ever anything he loved that didn’t turn into a obsession? Because how true is it? All Might, Heroics, Kacchan to an extent (probably not as much as we like to make fun of him for, in fandom, but absolutely enough to make him grateful when their relationship starts to get better). I dunno, I resonate with that because I also get obsessive over things I like (heyooo); it’s easy to see it him, too.

RIP Izuku’s arm. 😔🙏🏽 It’ll be fine. Probably. 😌

And LOL, look, I love a good title drop. 🥹 Especially ones that flow nicely; they’re like a lil reward. 😌

But thank-you; please don’t apologise for length or rambling or saying hello!!! I get anxious with big chapters because I’m always like oh no it’s too much, no-one will like it, i’ve missed something stupid in it, etc etc etc so it’s reassuring when people like yourself pop by. 🥺 Thank-you for your kind words. 🥺🌷📖 I hope can do Reader and Izuku and you some justice with the last chapter. 🥹 Fingers crossed 🤞🏽🌾

[putyourreddresson]

I’d die for any snippet from you my dear!!

But this one is calling my name:

lavender bruises and forget-me-nots

I’d love to know everything, please! ❤️😍🥰

HI MY LOVE!!!! i hope you know that the feeling is mutual and i can't wait to dive into your wips folder <3

lavender bruises and forget-me-nots, contrary to the title, is actually my silliest work. it's a birthday gift for a friend of mine who requested a scrappy physical fight between max and charles as a result of an on-track crash AND the subsequent reflections and reconciliations, orchestrated in parts by seb and kimi (acting in their roles as grid dads).

my vision for it is to keep it equal parts lighthearted and fun (which has been the biggest challenge for me because i am just not a funny person) and tense and reflective. besides the banter and silly little 'the grid as a family' moments, i want to highlight how even if you make progress in a relationship, a single moment can still exacerbate things to a point which you never though you'd find yourself at again; how it's easy to find yourself shackled to old habits when you haven't really learned to put effort into kindness, letting the natural flow of time take the wheel instead.

(no idea if this makes any sense, but anything i say rarely does.)

a gritty snippet

He thought they were better. He knows they got better. This is why he feels unbalanced when he touches the string of tension between them and feels it brimming with something swollen and volatile.

Charles is not a stranger to their brand of tumultuous relationship; he can map out the arguments and the chasms with his eyes closed, can pinpoint the divots in between the parallel lines of their lives with expert precision. He knows where his fingers will snag on uneven terrain, where they will slide over a glossy sheen of incongruous understanding, surviving despite the predatory jaws of teenage grudges.

But now, there is a shadow that bears an exoskeleton of years past – the midnight blue turning into nightshade, the red turning into blood. Distorted, pulled out of its sockets and exposed like live wiring.

and a tender snippet

They are also shades of lavender and phantom cruelty that bloom in rosettes across their skin. Charles raises his hand, reverently this time. He brings it up to the highest point of Max’s cheekbone and lightly cups his face, making sure to not dig into the bruise there.

Max leans into the touch anyway, even if it must sting.

It’s easy to fall back into old habits when these old habits are so much more ingrained in them, in the nature of what they are to each other than kindness ever has.

And it’s not like they have given kindness opportunities to flourish either. They have watered the seeds with rushed smiles and half-moon embraces given in between the latticework of asphalt and smoke, but they haven’t learned to be kind to each other with intention, with purpose.

so yeah! (lame ass ending sentence)

[paulcatania]

HOLY FUCKING SHIT, TUMBLR?!?!?!

Dear Tumblr, I am so sorry for everything. Really. I am part of the problem.

First off, I am sorry for the #PornVibesStrong moment that Twitter ROBBED you of during and prior to the Trump Administration (and who knows, perhaps now). Didn't Trump shut you down? Something happened. I can't remember. But I know that wow, what a time. This time however? This is another time. A time which feels like no time or space are we existing. Just maybe. If anyone can understand what that means of feels like to think or say. The post Covid existence being this constant alternate universe, time warp fuckery I can't quite seem to pinpoint with a term defining. Listening to "Head Over Heels" right now by Tears For Fears feels appropriate. It just has that sound to it ya know. Especially when it shows up in Donnie Darko. OMG. DOES NOT THE POST COVID WORLD FEEL LIKE DONNIE DARKO???? I know this much. Wait hold on..... Ok I had to go and quickly skim the lyrics to that song as final line of the song played... "Funny how time flies....". It really is all connected.

I haven't written in forever. Not like this. Not through the vessel that is you dearest Tumblr. I have abandoned my original venting/creative space-preferred via the digital realm. It's all beyond a bit much; to say the least. As of this exact moment, trying to rid myself of the physical foot print being my last four years. A mental health decline in late 2018 where life didn't seem one worth living, yet still trucking through creative projects and feeling connected to "the muses" whoever they are. Entities undisclosed, yet carrying me. An overpowering of dark forces bringing me to feelings of wanting to simply NOT EXIST. I wouldn't say I was suicidal, but how many steps can we possibly be before thoughts turn transcend actions. So I kind of acquired an art gallery of my friends in the earlier months of 2019 which then turns into my quite literally manifested 2nd Hand Shop which I simply called "Paul's Closet". In this post Covid world I am left with what seems to be endless items now making up my brand name switch to a less than desireable to some "2nd Hand HoE". I know right. Who doesn't want to shop there?

2nd Hand HoE is a less than acceptably managed resale shop out of my office space in my hometown of Gloucester, MA. Yup. This is where I'm at. I mean it's not THAT bad. I'm working the sidewalk/vestibule/stairwell which leads to a second-level office building consisting of office space for commercial use. It's been a long and wild 3 years being back and forth between here and my apartment in Peabody just about 15 miles away. A shared space with my ex partner. The poor dude. Sorry Alex. Haha. Yeah, No. It was a great 3 years. A wild learning experience with a friend unlike any I'd ever had. Relationships can be intense. Cohabited relationships even more so if not the right time and place. And space. Hold this space my dear lover. Ugh I'm gonna shart my jorts. Honestly. I'm so lost. Like what am I doing. WAIT, I know....... DUH. I'm reintroducing myself into the strong relationship I once had with the Tumbz. I see you Tumbzi, and I know you see #metoo.

Anyhoozers, I was all up in my feelitos, and I don't even know what the fuck made me think of it but I was like, what should I do? Just sit here anal cav deep in my iPhone swiping between apps slash doom scrolling and being envious of others' shit???? NO. Ufck That dumb stuff. I need to recreate my life. Will I this time? Well, hope the fuck so. The universe will always work out the shit it needs to but I would like to be a little bit of a commander in this simulation as well. I mean that's only fair right? Most would say so. I have discipline issues. I'm afraid to take chances. I'm afraid of what everyone thinks of me. It's ridiculous. I hate the internet, and all these things I hate and am afraid of are the things I'm supposed to connect to and through to be anything worth anything in a capitalist world right? I don't even know what I'm saying right now. I just know that I need to speak or type or write or whatever the fahhhhhk is on my mind or else the wheels will turn and spin right off the track. Or shall we say, Tumbl off course.

of course.

[nothorses]

hey! looking for a bit of advice. i recently made a terf critical post that got immediately into terf circles and my notes + inbox is just full of them making their same shit points at me. mostly i’m finding it funny, since their points suck and they cannot tell which way to misgender me, but i’m also wondering; is there any actual point to attempting to debunk where they’re wrong or how they’re taking my (to my mind obviously jokey) post at face value in a missing the point in such a classic way i’m tempted to reply to most with r/whoosh? or should i just let it run its course and more or less ignore them

I have never seen engaging with TERFs end well.

There's that saying, "you can't reason someone out of a belief they didn't reason themselves into"; TERFs don't actually give a shit if whether what they believe is true or not, or even whether or how it hurts others. They're grasping as ways to justify their bigotry and gain and exert power over others, and those goals are not compatible with reason.

If they eventually get out, awesome! That is very possible for lots of people, and lots of people have done it. I would like all of them to get out, heal, and find acceptance.

But you, the person they can and will only see as The Enemy, are not going to be the one to get through to them.

It can be helpful to explain to onlookers why and how they're wrong, in case anyone is being swayed by their arguments- but it's also likely to invite more harassment, and it's often not necessary, either.

My best advice, after having dealt with this more than a few times, is to just block every TERF who reblogs or likes your post. Block every single one of them you can find, delete their replies, block their asks (maybe save screenshots of them, but block them after), and wait for them to get bored and leave you alone.

It's exhausting and it might seem endless, but it'll only be more exhausting and more endless if you directly engage. It's also likely that your post will see some resurgences in TERF circles down the line; be ready for that, and start blocking again as soon as you see a TERF in your notes.

You might also want to turn off anon, and if you can pinpoint the blog that found your post and blew it up originally, try to report them as well. Tumblr might not do anything, and if they do they're likely to remake, but if they had the power to draw that kind of attention to you, it's worth a shot to take it away from them.

Good luck, and stay strong! There's no shame in just turning off notifications for a post, either. Take care of yourself. 💙

[nekrophoria]

Music asks for @drawing-way-outside-the-lines

Thank you so much 💙

(Sorry for the weird format. Started writing this in my drafts and copying everything over on mobile is annoying as shit)

Mel

6. a song from before you were born

"I think this one...?"

The Cure - The Same Deep Water As You

"Don't quote me on that though. "

7. a song that reminds you of yourself

Emery - Churches and Serial Killers

14. a song you didn’t like at first but warmed up to

Good Charlotte - I just wanna live

"Funny...i didn't like the song when it came out...and now it's the only Good Charlotte song I can still listen to without cringing like hell. "

15. a song from one of your favorite artists

"Uhh...not really sure if I have a favourite at this point...

Probably... Keith Flint - Laughs"

19. some of your favorite lyrics (explain why if you want to)

Keane - Somewhere Only We Know

"Oh, simple thing, where have you gone?

I'm gettin' old, and I need something to rely on

So, tell me when you're gonna let me in

I'm gettin' tired, and I need somewhere to begin"

"Pretty...self explanatory."

22. a song from this year

(although Volatile technically plays in 2016 imma break the fourth walk here and pick a song from 2022 that I know he would like)

Korn - Lost in the Grandieur

Mabon

2. an all-time favorite song of yours

"Don't have one."

("The Legend Of Zelda Majora's Mask OST - Song Of Healing" he listens to it to calm down/drown out noise)

4. a song in your native language (if english, choose a song from your country)

"These guys are English, least they kinda sound English I dunno."

Kasabian - Reason is Treason

7. a song that reminds you of yourself

"No."

(Slipknot - Dead Memories)

11. a song that makes you wanna dance

"For fuck's sake..."

(actually none that I can think of)

18. a song from a genre you usually don’t enjoy

"...why do people even give a crap about the genre?

If I like something I like it, if I don't...I don't. Simple."

(He hates pop music but Madonna - Devil Wouldn't Recognize You he strangely enough doesn't mind at all. Maybe it's the piano, or a positive memory connected to it he can't quite pinpoint....You didn't hear that from me though. )

Simon

3. a song from your childhood

Tasmin Archer - Sleeping Satellite

"I think it was one of my sister's favourite songs for...quite a while actually. It was on pretty often and...I've just grown to subconsciously connect a lot of childhood memories with it."

7. a song that reminds you of yourself

Highly Supect - My Name Is Human

10. a song that makes you tear up

"Okay this one was hard. There are a lot of songs I absolutely adore but they don't really make me visibly emotional.

There was this one time. My dumb ass decided to do dxm on my own which was a damn bad idea because I was in a pretty vulnerable mental state all around. I was teetering at the edge of a bad trip throughout most of it, constantly trying to kinda pull myself back so...at some point I put on some music and got stuck on this one: IAMX - This Will Make You Love Again and the flood gates opened. I wasn't even really registering it, but it helped."

11. a song that makes you wanna dance

"Depends on the mood...Grendel - Harsh Generation is a pretty safe bet though."

21. a song that makes you nostalgic

Tool - Parabola

"That was the first Tool song I ever heard. Tool was the first band I really got into and...listening to this song really makes me miss this feeling of discovering a style of music you never quite heard before and this euphoric rush that comes with it.

That feeling's gotten rare these days. "

[mindibindi]

Hi. I just read your last anon post and wow. I was wondering if you were aware that the actress who played Kathy wrote something about the hate Kathy/she is getting. I honestly don't know anything about her and since I haven't seen anything nasty directed her way (her character, yes. Her, no) I decided to read her thoughts. Now I feel crappy for shipping Bensler, quite honestly. To me, it came across as passive aggressive. Basically she has a life and anyone who cares if Bensler gets together, needs to get one. I don't understand why she needed to inject herself into this now. She said she doesn't watch the show. Doesn't care what's in the letter. Doesn't care if Bensler gets together. And like I said, most fans were angry with Kathy. Not the woman who played her. So now Mariska and Chris are tweeting about this woman being mistreated (?) and I feel like crap for shipping them. Since when can't fans dislike a character without fear of insulting the actor who portrays her?

Hey Anon, I did not know about this but I can't say I'm surprised. Twitter is a cesspool, which is why I don't spend a lot of time over there. I much prefer the weird subterranean culture of tumblr, despite its occasional dramas. I scanned what Isabel Gillies wrote though, and she's a writer so she is going to make some sense. I don't think some of the comments she quotes are that bad ('Good morning to everyone except Kathy Stabler's ghost' -- that's fine, that's funny, that's a well-known meme) but I also doubt they're the worst of what she's received. (Maybe she doesn't want to proliferate the worst of the hate she's been on the receiving end of...?). Ultimately though, I think the piece is an indictment of (the worst aspects of) social media culture rather than an indictment of Bensler shippery. So let me just assure you of a few things:

1. It's completely okay to ship Elliot and Olivia. They are written, framed and portrayed as shippable. The people behind the show want you to ship them. The people playing these characters want you to ship them. Chris and Mariska have always leaned into that aspect of their relationship. And they are without doubt one of the most legendary, long-running ships in TV history. Some folks, like Gillies, are not super engaged with this ship. Some fans of the show may even try to shame other fans for shipping EO, calling the relationship toxic. But you're not reading anything wrong or doing anything wrong. Shipping is about love, not about hate. And you’re completely entitled to love Elliot and Olivia’s love. I do too.

2. It is completely okay to engage in fandom discussion, speculation and critique. That’s half the fun of fandom. As I said in a previous post, I am not going to knock myself out trying to understand Kathy’s actions re: the letter, but I fully support anyone who wants to. What’s more, literary criticism is one of my areas of study so I don’t understand it as a negative thing. Critique is a function of deep engagement, sometimes even of love. It attempts to pinpoint where the integrity is present or absent in a narrative. It looks at the places it might do better. When people try to draw a line between Kathy’s actions and her character, it’s because this show, its characters and narratives matter to them and they want them to be the best they can be. But just as Elliot and Olivia have been written inconsistently, so has Kathy. I do understand the frustration of some fans when they find a lack of integrity in the writing of a character or narrative that they have been deeply engaged with, possibly for decades.

3. The problem is when this frustration turns into hate. And if Gillies says that she has been on the end of some fandom hate, then I am inclined to believe her. Because that just sounds like something that would happen, especially on Twitter. And yes, I imagine that would be super upsetting for the person in the firing line. But I’m not sure it’s the show’s fans that have single-handedly put her in that position. Now, I do NOT in any way condone the behaviour of any SVU fan or Bensler shipper who has sent hate this woman’s way, whether public or private (I’m betting that’s where the worst of it is). That sort of behaviour is NOT OKAY. I want to make that perfectly clear before I say that I do understand the emotion behind the behaviour. I do understand getting all hot under the collar about a show or ship, because I have done it. You can say It’s just a show! (which is minimising) but narratives matter to human beings. Why do you think we keep on making ‘em? They provide meaning, continuity and comfort. And with the world in the state it’s currently in, we need this meaning, continuity and comfort more than ever.

Unfortunately, a lot of us turn to television to fulfill these genuine human needs. We do this because we are idiots. Hopeful idiots but idiots nonetheless. Because somehow we forget that TV is a medium that feeds gleefully on our frustration. It traffics in manipulation, deferral and shock. It tells us one thing then gaslights us into believing that that thing we saw with our own eyes never happened. It constantly withholds, creates tension and treats its audience like they’re stupid. Frankly, if a person treated you how television writers treat their audiences then you’d leave that toxic son-of-a-bitch in a heartbeat. I can think of a few shows on streaming services that do not adhere to this model. Because they rely on binge-watching, they don’t have to draw people back every week. So they can concentrate on storytelling rather than ad revenue and ratings figures. But SVU is of the old school television model. It is still stuck in the past and, in trying to stay relevant, it has used every TV trick in the book. Which means every week, viewers are treated to greater and greater doses of frustration, manipulation, deferral, shock and tension. We get character arcs that don’t make sense, revisions of previous plotpoints (the letter) and twists purely for the sake of the online outrage they will cause.

Outrage is what drives people to platforms like Twitter to vent. Outrage is often what creates a trending hashtag, as it did in this instance. Write a story that is consistent and meaningful and you will not get all of these hot-headed responses. Write stories that retain their intelligence and integrity and maybe you will trend for the right reason, rather than the wrong one. Once again, I don’t endorse hatemail, that’s not my point here. Do not send actors or writers or showrunners hate. If, however, you are one of those fans who feels exhausted by the discourse or confused by its emotional impact or powerless against the weekly wave of tension, shock and manipulation, I want to assure you that you’re having a perfectly human reaction to a narrative that lacks integrity. It’s okay to feel that way. It’s okay to react that way. You were meant to. They created that reaction in you. It’s up to you what you do with it. You can funnel it into fanfic. You can ask questions/discuss on tumblr. You can step away if you need to. I would recommend not blaming an actor who is completely powerless as to the direction of their character. But I would likewise recommend that you not blame yourself.

TLDR: 1. It’s okay to ship 2. It’s okay to critique 3. It’s okay to feel manipulated when you’ve tooootttaaaally been manipulated                             

[tinyboxxtink]

"Caught In The Storm" *Part 9*

So....did y'all like that cliffhanger?

Because...HAHAHA JK THAT'S NOT THE ENDING.

No, but actually...it was the original ending, but the original ending ended up being REALLY short. So, I wrote an ALTERNATE ending, that actually I really would prefer being the ACTUAL ending, but it had to go a different direction BEFORE the cliffhanger, so....you see my dilemma.

SO---

Here's what we're gonna do:

I'm going to put the ORIGINAL ending first, and then space it out, and put the ALTERNATE [better tbh] ending.

That way, you can have both. And I don't have to backtrack to undo my mistake due to my ADHD brain changing things 24/7.

Kay? Cool.

Also no neither of these are the ACTUAL ending, I refuse to have an odd number of chapters. REFUSE. So chapter 10 will be like an epilogue. Don't look at me like that.

Tag List

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@word-scribbless

@milkshqke

@wanniiieeee

@aprildecker-blog

@gibbs274

@lolliepopsicle

@objection-argumentative

Part 10 (Epilogue is here!)

(This Gif is For the FIRST ending, there's a 2nd GIF that would be SPOILERS.)

Short Simple Ending #1

Raphael sat in his loft drinking scotch, for which he had done most of the day. He wasn't dressed, he hadn’t showered, he was a mess. He didn't know if he could ever come out of this. He sat there wallowing in his regret and sorrow, going over every interaction you two had ever had in your entire lives of knowing each other pinpointing everything he could have done differently. What he should have done differently, and the fact that if he had, you'd be there with him right now instead of getting married to someone you didn't love. He's just in the middle of chastising himself again when he heard a knock at the door.

“Liv, I told you I don't need your help; You can't help me right now!” he yelled to the door

“It's not Liv…”your voice came softly through the door.

His eyes lit up, he raced to the door and threw it open. Revealing you and your wedding dress, sopping wet.

“Well I hope you're happy!” you stomped into his apartment angrily.

“...What would I be happy about? Where is your husband? He asked half jokingly.

“I Don't HAVE a husband,” you spat.

“Really now?” He was enjoying this too much.

“No, I don't. And you just made me humiliate a poor, generous, loving, caring, amazing man. And I just dumped him in front of all of his friends and family, and in front of a million fans on a live stream and now everyone knows and I'm probably laughing stock right now!!!” you screamed angrily, pacing the apartment.

“I did all that?” He smirked.

“Yes, you did!” you crossed your arms as you walked back to him.

“And how did I do that?” He took both of your hands and pulled you closer, still smiling like a Cheshire cat.

“By telling me you love me!!!” you kept your angry face stoic. “How could I marry Nathan when I knew that I was supposed to be with someone else?”

“You couldn't,” He smiled.

“I couldn't…” You whispered as he pulled you even closer and took you in his arms.

“I love you Rafael,” you looked right into his big green eyes. It was the first time you had actually said it to him in those exact words, with all the love and emotion you had always meant it to be.

He stared at you for a moment, running through the words in his mind. He had yelled them so angrily and upset at you last night, not the way you needed. Not the way you deserved.

“I love you too, Y/N,” He smiled, cradling your face before pulling you into another mind blowing kiss; it had only been the second time you had ever kissed in your lives but it felt like you had done it a million times, like it was supposed to be this way. Like it was always supposed to be this way.

You were so glad you stayed through the storm.

-----

Actual" Really Long, Detailed, Funny Ending #2

-----

"But you don't love him,'' Rafael pointed out.

"You don't know that!" You snapped.

"Yes I do!" He shot back.

“How could you possibly know that?”

"Because you have never looked at him the way you look at me!" He exclaimed.

Your face went from upset and sad, to absolute rage after hearing him say that.

"You arrogant, selfish, son of a bitch…" you growled.

"How DARE you say that to me?! How DARE you use my own feelings and how much I loved you against me? Get out," You grabbed his arm and dragged him to the door.

"No look I'm sorry Y/N, but it's true. You don't love him and you're only marrying him to spite me!" He continued to dig himself a hole.

"So what?!” You said without thinking, making you both go wide eyed and silent.

“Are-- Are you serious?” He stammered.

“What if I was?” You now had an idea reeling.

“Wha...why would you…?” His eyes narrowed.

“Let’s say that I don’t believe you right now, which I don’t. And I kick you out of here, and I go through with my wedding in the morning? After ALL of this?” You gestured between the two of you.

"You're drunk, aren't you?" Rafael asked as he eyed the two empty bottles of champagne.

"Don't even-- Maybe," You stood in front of the view of the bottles. You waved it off, trying to focus.

“What if I told you that the ONLY way that I will believe that you are completely serious and NOT just drunk, is if you try and stop my wedding?” You smirked.

“You’re not--” Rafael started to laugh, but you kept a serious face on. “Seriously?”

“I don’t know Rafael, I guess we’ll see tomorrow who’s ‘serious’ and who’s not!” You slammed the door in his face, leaving him dumbfounded.

-------------

The next day you were in the bridal room getting ready; It was pouring rain outside, it seemed appropriate.

Amanda, Kelsey and Olivia were helping you polish your tiara, ironing your dress, fixing your makeup and all that jazz. Hundreds of fans lined outside the church since someone had leaked where you were getting married. Everything came down to this moment. It was supposed to be the biggest day of your life, and you were terrified. But not for the reasons normal brides would be worried about. For one you were hungover, and for two you had made the most idiotic ultimatum to Rafael last night. Why would you DO that?! Why did he bring out the absolute snarkiest, competitive side of you?

“You're shaking,” Amanda noticed.

“It's just nerves, you need some champagne'' Kelsey grabbed a champagne flute and shoved it in your hand; you downed it.

“You're doing the right thing,” Kelsey assured you, as if she knew what you were thinking. You looked at Olivia and Amanda.

“And what do you say?” You genuinely asked them both.

“I think that whatever you want to do is the right thing,'' Olivia replied, squeezing her hand. You smiled thankfully, glancing at the door.

He hadn’t come yet, maybe he was just drunk. Maybe he was lying in his bed hungover, wondering why he went and made an ass out of himself for no reason. Then again, maybe he was waiting for a big crowd for a huge display of affection, God WHY did you do this...

------

When it was time, you walked up to Finn who was waiting at the doors of the chapel. He was dressed in a tuxedo with a baby blue tie.

“You look beautiful, baby girl,” he smiled. “Are you ready to do this?”

“Now or never,” You smiled, still glancing at the exits. You noted the cameras that were set up to livestream this to millions of people; you had totally forgotten about that. Oh god, now if there was a “public display” it wouldn’t just go to the guests, it would be broadcast around the world!

The Wedding March began to play as the chapel doors opened. You proceeded to walk down the aisle and looked at everyone watching you. All of your past and present family from the SVU squad was there. Grandpa Kragen and Grandpa Munch, Uncle Brian, Uncle Tucker, etc.

Then you looked at Nathan's family, a bunch of white rich stuffy but welcoming people. You noticed all of the crowds lining outside the windows of the church cheering you on, some crying, some holding signs. Then you looked at Nathan waiting for you at the end of the aisle smiling proudly. He really did love you.

You reached the end of the aisle and took Nathan's hands.

“Dearly beloved, we're gathered here today…”

The Preacher went on through the normal wedding exchanges until he got to “the” line..

“If anyone here has any reason that these two should not be wed, please speak now or forever hold your peace,” The preacher announced as you held your breath.

You anxiously looked around the chapel, looking for any sign of Rafael. Maybe he had snuck in the back, or was hiding behind a lady with a hat. He was going to come, wasn’t he? Maybe you were right, maybe you were right along.

….Nothing. He wasn’t there. He didn’t come…

You felt your heart shatter, you were officially dead inside. And now the husk of you was being married off to this poor man.

“Do you Nathan Lee Price, take YN to be your lovely wedded wife, now and forever, through richer and poorer, sickness and health, before and after you both shall live?

“I do,”

“Y/N, do you take Nathan Lee Price to be your lovely wedded husband, now and forever, through richer and poorer, sickness and health, before and after you both shall live?”

You looked to Nathan, then you looked to your side of the wedding, then you looked to his side, you looked to the fans outside again, you looked to the sky, looked to the ground and then you looked back at Nathan.

"I…"

“NO SHE DOES NOT!!!!”

The chapel doors swung open revealing Rafael dressed in a tuxedo. The entire room gasped in horror, and you tried your best not to run to him right then and there. He ran down the aisle until he reached the altar.

“I’m sorry sir, we’ve already past the--” The preacher started to talk but Rafael put a hand in front of his face.

“I don’t care, padre,” He chortled.

"Cutting it a little close there, counselor," You muttered.

"You're the one who chose to get married during rush hour in New York City, carino," He winked.

“Man, are you serious? Really? You’ve had all this time, and you decide NOW that you want my fiancé?” Nathan asked him in a hushed voice, trying to be discreet.

Rafael however, was NOT trying to be discreet.

“This woman told me last night, if I really loved her, that I would come and stop this wedding,” He was addressing the crowd. “That I would stop her from making the biggest mistake of her life,” He turned to you and Nathan. “Marrying someone she does not love,”

The room gasped again, Nathan’s family looked horrified. Camera phones began filming, fans outside were going NUTS.

“...Is that true, Y/N?” Nathan asked you with the most pitiful look.

“I mean I--” You looked from him to Rafael, who had a huge grin on his face. Well, you DID ask for this.

“I didn’t use those exact words,” You shrugged apologetically. The pastor closed the Bible, the guests were chattering like mad, cameras flashed, the mob outside began to force themselves inside to see the drama.

“I..I can’t believe this, I can’t believe you…” Nathan shook his head in disbelief.

“Nathan I’m really sorry, I just--” You looked at Rafael again; his grin wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. “I had to be sure that he really loved me,”

“So he had to PROVE his love to you, when I have shown it to you EVERY SINGLE DAY?” Nathan started to yell, forgetting about appearances.

“I mean, no-- it’s a whole thing, you wouldn’t understand--” You started to laugh unintentionally, thinking of how you and Rafael had your own twisted sick sense of humor.

“You’re goddamn right I don’t understand!” He continued to yell.

“...She’s a flair for the dramatic Nate, what can I say?” Rafael smirked as he stepped up on the stair you were standing on and wrapped an arm around you. You really hated that you were enjoying this at Nate’s expense but-- Rafael was right. You wanted him to publicly admit it, and he delivered. And you were ecstatic.

“Yeah well, I hope you’re both happy in dramatic HELL,” Nathan spewed before stomping off out of the chapel with his groomsmen quickly tailing him. His side of the wedding began exiting the chapel furiously grumbling and yelling profanities at you.

You glanced at your side of the room, the entire NYPD. They all surprisingly looked very pleased, although some people like Kragen were skeptical about this suave ADA coming in here and sweeping you off your feet. They shook their heads and a few applauded, especially your current family.

“Oh we’re not done folks,” Rafael announced as he grabbed the preacher before he could leave.

“Wha...what now?” You were confused but growing more excited by the second.

“You wanted me to be sure that this is what I wanted,” Rafael took both of your hands. “And I want you to KNOW that this,” He gestured between the two of you. “This is all I will ever want, for the rest of my life. And I want to prove it to you,” He smiled at you and pulled something from his jacket pocket.

“Oh, Rafa you really don’t--” You started to say that stopping this wedding was proof enough for you, but he was already down on his knees.

“Y/N….Will you marry me?” He asked. “....Right now?” He added, gesturing to the preacher. Now it was your side’s turn to gasp loudly again, as you stared at the huge diamond ring Rafael was holding out to you.

Where did he get that? WHEN did he get that? Had he been planning on proposing to you before? A zillion questions ran through your brain but you did your best to quiet them all so you could focus on the ONE question that mattered right now.

“....DUH!” You finally slapped him over the head playfully and grabbed the ring from him. He laughed and slipped it on your finger before pulling you into a beautiful, perfect kiss. Everyone on your side laughed and cheered, happy their baby girl was getting her happy ending.

“Well alright then, I guess let’s start this thing over!” The preacher laughed, opening his Bible once again.

“Rafael Barba, do you take Y/N to be your lovely wedded wife, now and forever, through richer and poorer, sickness and health, before and after you both shall live?” He asked Rafael.

“I do,” Rafael beamed at you.

“Do you--” .

“WAIT,” You put up a hand to stop him, making everyone start to mumble curiously again. Rafael’s face fell.

“...Are you serious? You’re changing your mind?” He muttered anxiously.

“No!” You shook your head. “No I…” You looked at the floor. “God this is so stupid…” You laughed to yourself nervously, not really believing you were actually going to admit this.

“....What?” Rafael raised an eyebrow.

“I um…” You bit your lip. “Oh God…” You turned to the preacher. “Sorry!” He brushed it off.

“Baby what are you--” Rafael was seriously starting to worry.

“Please, please don’t freak out,” You begged him. His eyes remained confused, but soft and understanding.

“Okay…” He gave you a look.

“I um,” You took a deep breath. “I may or may not have learned this...just in case,”

You took another deep breath, and recited the words you had practiced in front of your mirror for MONTHS after you had first met Rafael.

“Yo, Y/N, te tomo a ti, Rafael Barba, como mi esposo,”

Rafael immediately broke into the biggest smile you may have ever seen on him, tears instantly wet his eyes as you spoke.

“Prometo serte fiel en lo próspero y en lo adverso,” You continued, vowing you were NOT going to break down crying.

“en la salud y en la enfermedad, Amarte y respetarte todos los días de mi vida.,” You finished successfully without shedding a tear, unlike Rafael who was a full on hot mess of tears in front of you.

“Baby I…” He shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you did that,” He whispered, tears still catching in his throat.

“I told you,” You bit your lip. “I have always been in love with you,”

“And I am so in love with you,” He grinned, pulling your face into his for “the” kiss.

“Well I guess you can kiss the bride!” The preacher laughed sarcastically as everyone broke into cheers.

You glanced up at the cameras as you walked down the aisle with your new husband. God you hoped that hadn’t blown up in your face, but if it did-- you had your Rafa to hold you through the storm.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs  “Teenagers.”

Hello everyone, sorry for vanishing for a few days, but now I am back and ready to write.

I would ask for any prompts or ideas you guys have for stories. Sometimes I go through times where I can't think of any ideas, and this is one of those times. Your help is appreciated 

Somewhere between Mars and the asteroid belt

The Delta-5 passenger transport had fallen out of warp rather violently. Granted, with a delta class warp engine she could only make jumps inside the solar system, but at any range, coming out of a warp unexpectedly is violent.

The brightly painted yellow of the passenger ship was a streak in the darkness for a single moment before the emergency engines kicked in and pulled her to an abrupt halt. Inside, the ship was filled with startled screams and cries of pain, from the twenty person class of Martian students on a return trip from the asteroid belt.

Not all schools have the funding for their own spaceship, mind you, but as one of the most prestigious boarding schools on the solar system, there were some perks. However, violent whiplash wasn’t appearing to be one of those perks, and in the commotion, no one noticed as a lone student silently slipped back to their seat, handily concealing a shiny silver object in the pocket of her pants.

A distress signal followed the sudden loss of warp, and it was almost an hour that the students sat there before a call of awe came out from the back of the ship, and all the students piled together to see out the cramped side windows at the massive military warship bearing down on them from above. She was massive, almost the size of two football fields from end but reaching skyward. It’s rear engines glowed with blue power as it gently slid next to them despite it’s cumbersome bulk.

A single line of white lettering could just be seen at the spine of the ship reading

 U.N.S.S Harbinger.

***

Krill and Sunny accompanied Commander Vir from the bridge, arriving in the docking bay just as the small, yellow passenger transport was pulled in from the airlock and gently dropped onto the deck. Once secured, the doors were opened.

As Krill and Sunny stood next to the commander, they couldn’t help but notice his uncharacteristic lack of good humor.. In the light of the docking bay his arms were crossed, his mouth had been pulled into a deep brown, and his single eye was narrowed with distrust at the little yellow ship.

The doors were opened, and the students came spilling out. Krill didn’t have much experience with this sort of human…. Teenagers. Physically, they had smoother faces, and the males and appeared skinnier with reduced muscle tone, but other than that, he wasn’t likely to be able to tell the difference.

“Look at them.” The Commander muttered under his breath, “Little Vultures.” 

Krill and Sunny exchanged a confused look, and rill ventured a question, “I’m sorry Commander, but I…. don’t follow.”

The Commander’s expression remained dark, “Behold my inhuman friends, the worst kind of human, the bane of earth, the very incarnation of Evil itself. They have the magic ability to pinpoint whatever insecurities you have and used it in psychological warfare against you.”

Krill and Sunny turned to watch the humans. Some huddled together in small groups, others standing alone shoulders hunched looking down at the floor, and still others gazing around the docking bay in wonderous amazement 

“Sure…. Commander…… Evil.” Sunny said watching two of the humans hug each other, in a clear attempt to find comfort, “I’m shaking.”

The commander glowered at her, and then turned on his heel to march towards the line of humans.

Sunny chirped an approximation of a laugh, “Wait, hold on commander, my knees are weak, I can’t keep up.”

He continued to ignore her as he marched up to the line of students. Of course, with the clanking of his mechanical leg, they noticed him coming long before he made it, and as they strolled up, Krill couldn't help but notice as a group of them broke out into a fit of giggling as they watched the commander approach, a fact that was not lost one the man, not that the students would have been able to tell.

However, Sunny and Krill knew him well enough to see the stiffening of his back , and the slight redness at the base of his neck, “Alright, the lot of you, quiet down.” His voice was loud enough, and commanding enough to get partial attention, but even as they looked at him, there was still ore snickering, giggling, and students checking their personal devices. A couple of them continued to whisper quietly in the back of the group. Of course quietly actually meant one grade below a normal voice.

Sunny was able to pick out the word “eyepatch.” from the conversation.

The Commander’s frown grew deeper, and he turned to Sunny. 

She was happy to oblige the request, quickly clearing her throat, and then releasing a screeching battle cry that made the walls and floors rattle. 

That got their attention.

“About time you all shut the hell up.” He growled. Sunny shifted uncomfortably not entirely sure what had gotten into the commander. 

Krill watched the students, and quickly became aware that many of them only had one default setting, and that was the continuous rolling of their eyes, often accompanied with a deep sigh.

“Now, I find it very unfortunate that your ship broke down, mostly because now I have to babysit you, which I would rather not do. But here we are, and there are a few ground rules you need to follow.”

More eye rolling, which was not lost on the captain.

He turned his eye on one of the worst offenders, “Go on, roll your eyes again, see what happens.” The stare the commander gave him could have coagulated blood, and the student looked away as his classmates snickered, “That a bunch of disrespectful bullshit, and they don’t pay me to tolerate it. If you want to be a little shit while I explain life-saving rules to you, than I won’t feel bad when you wander somewhere you shouldn't and radiation causes all your skin to deglove. Yes, that is exactly what it sounds like….. am …. I ... clear?”

The group of them nodded rather slowly, and Krill noticed a couple of eyes twitch. A couple others looked back and forth between each other exchanging looks.

“I am Commander Vir, and this is the UNSS Harbinger, this is my weapons specialist Sunny, and my chief medical officer Krill. I am in charge of the ship, and while you are on board, you will follow my orders just like any member of my crew. I will not tolerate shenanigans, whining, complaining, arguing, and any other accompanying bullshit that you may be likely to bring aboard my ship.”

He turned his head in another wide circle making eye contact with each and every one of them. 

As his eyes passed over a group of the students, Krill watched them burst into another fit of giggling turning to look at each other.

The single eye snapped around to glower at them, “Something Funny!” He demanded 

The girl in question went bright red and then stammered out a, “N… no.”

More giggling erupted from somewhere in the back.

The commander didn’t look pleased. A rope that was already beginning to fray snapped, “Alright, that’s it, the brig,  the lot of you.” 

A gasp rose up from the students, and the teacher as she protested.

The commander turned, “If you cannot take the rules seriously than you go exactly where you belong. The brig. You may leave when we reach Mars.”

Sunny and Krill exchanged a glance as the commander stormed off.

“Changeling, brain injury, or mind control.” Sunny wondered 

Krill shrugged, “Search me.

No one noticed a form slipping away quietly as the rest of the students were  shepherds away.

***

Sunny and krill sat quietly in the darkness of the bridge watching their friend, as he leaned against the upper platform railing glowering out at the field of stars, and the small red dot that was Mars.

He had been like this all evening sullen and silent withdrawn into himself.

Sunny noticed the figure in the doorway before krill, and quietly stood not recognizing the figure.

“I thought I sent you all to the brig.” The commander said, his voice echoed eerily in the darkness. As far as either of them had seen, the commander hadn't turned to look, so there was no way he could have known who was at the door. The figure paused, and then deciding against running stepped into the room.

It was one of the teenagers. 

She was somewhat muscular for her size with short dark hair colored half purple. She had a squarish jaw and long legs despite being well over half a foot shorter than the commander. 

She did not appear bothered that she had been caught. 

Wandering inwards, she paused next to the captain’s chair, and then in a shocking breach of decorum, she took a seat throwing her legs over one of the arms.

Krill was pretty sure “teenagers” had no sense of personal safety.

Commander Vir turned slowly to face her frowning eyes narrowed.

She locked eyes with him blowing a large pink bubble which popped loudly in the intervening silence.

“Get out of my chair.”

Another bubble, “Why.”

“Because if you don’t I'm going to rip off your arm and beat you with it.” To her credit, she withstood his gaze for longer than your average person might half before finally signing and sliding form the seat and onto the floor. The commander watched her go, as she crossed the ten feet to the navigators chair and made herself comfortable there.

It was the Commander’s turn for a deep sigh.

Krill and Sunny watched in fascination. Like watching a puppy chew on the tail of a wolf.

The commander glowered at her, and she glowered back.

He looked about to say something but was cut off as the student opened her mouth, “Why do you hate teenagers so much?” 

That caught the commander off guard, and whatever he had been planning to say died on his lips.

“I mean I saw you once or twice on the TV, and you usually aren't this much of an asshole, so you must hate teenagers.”

silence .

“Where you bullied in school. Because I-”

He cut her off, “You think you’re edgy don’t you.” It was her turn to be cut off, “Let me guess edgy teenager with some sort of tragic backstory. Maybe mommy is dead, maybe daddy is mean perhaps they are both fine, but they don’t pay attention to you, and so you act out, pretend like you don’t care about anything try to look edgy so you can be different because no one understands you or something, right.”

“Don’t pretend-”

“Don’t pretend to know you, want to know something kid- I WAS you, and let me give you a little secret.” He leaned in,  “You aren’t special, your problems aren't personal. You are exactly like every other kid in there who thinks no one understands them and their problems are special and that the world is unfair, well guess what your problems aren't special, of course the world is unfair, but it’s unfair to everyone. So quit the edgy bullshit because it doesn’t make you cool it makes you an asshole.”

She remained quiet. Krill and Sunny looked on in fascination. Some of the wind seemed to have been taken out of her sails, but she remained quiet, “My turn?” She asked 

“Go ahead, I would like to hear it.”

“You aren’t special either, lots of people were bullied as kids difference is not all of us grow up to be successful. So you don’t even have anything to be mad about.”

He took a seat in the captain’s chair to look at her, “I’m under no illusion that I’m special. I am also under no illusion that I try to be different, just like you. Difference is, I can admit what I’m doing. I’m just like everyone else, a normal guy who got lucky and am now in a place to do something good for once. As for the difference between you and I, I NEVER ruined public property to get what I want. What did you do cut the power outlet to the fusion cables.”

She was quiet.

“It’s either tell me or face jail time, you’re call.”

She sighed and leaned her head back on the seat, “I just….. Wanted to see your ship, ok.” There was silence in the room, “Yeah, I get it was stupid, but my life isn’t likely to go anywhere, but i saw my chance and I took it to at least SEE my dream, and maybe get lucky enough to meet you, but low and behold, I get aboard the ship, and my hero turns out to be a masive Dick, so i guess we both lose.”

There was silence.

Turning to look at Sunny Krill found an expression of shock on her face eyes wide mouth slightly open. She hadn’t gotten up from her seat.

His voice had softened, and Krill watched as the look of anger melted from his face replaced with some mix of shame, “I….. what makes you think your life is going nowhere.”

She kicked her feet, “I’m not exactly good at the whole school thing.”

The commander shrugged, “So what, join the UNSC, and then you can see space all you want, that’s what I did.”

She shook her head, “No can do chief, I’m sick, they wouldn’t take me.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. Maybe they won’t let you join the marines, but a support position is fine. As far as medical equipment, we practically live in a flying hospital, so whatever you need could be done for you on a ship.” He got up from his chair and stopped to stand next to her staring out at the darkness. With a sigh, his shoulders slumped, “You’re right, I’m sorry. I had a bad time in school and I’m taking it out on you and the others…. It’s not very adult of me…. Or very professional for that matter.” 

She waved a hand, “Its ok most of them belong in the brig anyway.”

He gave a dry chuckle, “Even so, I should probably go apologize.”

“Wow, not every day I meet an adult who can admit when they’re wrong.” 

Commander Vir turned towards the door, “Yeah, if you’re going to join kid, you need to get rid of that hatred for authority complex. Most of us are just doing our jobs and occasionally…. We actually care.”

I wouldn’t go as far as the commander and say that teenagers are the incarnation of evil, but I would, perhaps, suggest that they are the incarnation of the devil’s advocate. They have questions queries and demands that are designed to challenge older humans. If the exchange is met correctly, both will learn something. The younger will gain knowledge from the older, and the older might just understand their own reasoning better than they had before, or even identify issues with their own logic.

If the exchange goes wrong there will only be anger and enmity between the two parties. Young humans need a lot of direction, but they also need the ability to choose their own path. It is an older human’s duty to impart the knowledge allowing the younger human to make the best decisions, without trying to control them.

However, Despite the philosophy, I think there is some argument that can be made for the devil incarnate…. 

[heartbreakerholland]

lunchtime losers [p.p.]

Summary: Peter Parker was one of your best friends in high school, but there were moments that made you question who exactly he could be to you. Here are a few of those moments you spent in Midtown, trying to figure things out year by year.

Word count: 6.8k

Warnings: mentions of underaged drug use, mild swearing, open ended. . . ending(?), unedited

Disclaimer: i cannot stress enough that you shouldn't do drugs/alcohol while underaged. i know high school is weird and everybody might seem to be experimenting with new things, but i promise there'll be a time and place where it's appropriate to do so. i am in no way glamorizing/romanticizing (underaged) drug use, even if it's such a small portion of this fic. drug/alcohol abuse is very serious, even as a teenager when it doesn't seem like you're abusing it.

A/N: i have some pointers! this is a different writing style compared to what i've posted before. i've written like this back when i first started writing fanfiction years ago and quite frankly, i don't even like it that much, so i'm very iffy about this. this is based off of my own experience with getting to know my feelings about a good friend, and a lot of the scenes in here are closely accurate to what's actually happened in my life. the only part that i can say is 100% pure imagination is the ending, which i know will probably make a lot of you frustrated ☺️ (it's because i still haven't told this person my feelings for him oops) ANYWAYS this is written in a very one sided perspective, but i tried to write in a way that you can read between the lines and get a little idea of what peter’s feelings are too. a lot of peter’s and the reader’s feelings are told merely through action and dialogue and less of actual explaining, but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless 💞

feedback is greatly appreciated and feel free to request a part 2! enjoy reading!

[masterlist] [join a tag list]

•••

Freshman Year

"This has been going on for weeks," Michelle muttered to you. "If the tension at the table gets any worse, then I'm not sitting with you guys anymore."

You stepped out of the lunch line with your tray in hand, following MJ to stand away from the crowd of students. Looking behind her, you watched Peter and Ned enter the lunch room and sit down at your usual table.

You rolled your eyes. "I already told you. Maybe Peter likes me and maybe I like him back, but he's always been one of my closest friends. I don't want to ruin that."

She scoffed and began walking towards the table with you at her side. "So? You can date and still be friends—"

"But what about when we break up? We either stay friends or never talk to each other again. I'm not risking it."

You knew she would have said more, but the two of you already made it to your table. You took place in your usual seats, Michelle next to Ned and you across from them, next to Peter. You set your backpack on the ground underneath the bench where everyone sat. Without thinking about it, you handed Peter your chocolate milk carton and apple sauce, while he slid over his fruit snacks that May always packed for him. It was a routine; you always got those because you didn't like eating it but you knew Peter did, and Peter never told May that he doesn't like fruit snacks because you loved eating them.

MJ narrowed her gaze at you during the interaction, but you chose to ignore her. It was nothing more than a routine.

"Y/N, Michelle," Ned said. "Please tell Peter that he's being stupid.”

Without missing a beat, you and MJ repeated Ned's words at the same time.

Peter glanced between the two of you with mock surprise. "You didn't even know what we were talking about!"

MJ shrugged, taking a bite out of her food. "Don't have to. You're always stupid, Parker."

He put a hand over his chest. "I'm hurt, guys. I really am."

You chuckled but said nothing more, allowing your three friends to carry the conversation while your mind wandered.

You tried your best to pinpoint the moment you began liking Peter as more than a friend, but your heart wasn't into it.

All you could really tell was when you became more conscious of how close you always sat with him, thighs glued to the side and elbows never coming apart. You blamed it on the lunch table crowded with other students on either side of your friend group, giving you absolutely no space for Jesus in between.

You would catch yourself staring, taking note of his mannerisms and how his light brown hair always seemed to bounce whenever his head moved. You decided you noticed those things because of how long you've been friends with him.

You realized you always watched for his reaction first before seeing the others' after you said something funny, but you told yourself it was only because you valued his opinion the most.

You tried taking note of his flaws in hopes that it would get rid of whatever those feelings were. His hands were always clammy, his backpack was so big that you weren't sure how he didn't topple over when it was on his back, and sometimes he'd spit a little when he talked a lot. (For some reason, those things didn't push you away like you wanted.)

You felt a kick from under the table, bringing you back to the cafeteria. You looked up to be met with Michelle's glare, who signaled you to check your phone. Reaching into your pocket, you took your phone out and looked at the screen under the table.

Michael Jackson: if u keep staring at peter then he might actually notice for once

You gave MJ a look, who was the one who sent the text, and put your phone away. You didn't realize you'd been mindlessly eating until you felt full. You slid your food to Peter, who began eating the rest of it without second thought. (He always ate his lunch first then whatever you couldn't finish as well.) Routine.

Before you could actively participate in the conversation, the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch.

The four of you rose from the long table, gathering your trash to throw it away. You slouched over to grab your bag from where you put it.

"Here ya go," Peter said from behind.

You turned around to see him holding up your backpack for you.

"Oh, thanks," you smiled, swinging the backpack over your shoulders.

He returned the smile. "You going to your locker?"

"Like always, Pete."

"Alright," he slowly backed away. "See you in five?"

You nodded and began walking the other direction, where your locker was. Michelle followed Peter to the band room while Ned decided to accompany you on your short walk.

"Soooo, Y/N," he said suggestively. "That dance is coming up."

You groaned. "I thought the four of us were just going to sleep over at MJ's that night?"

You stopped in front of your locker, opening it to grab a textbook for one of your classes later in the day. You grabbed one of Peter's hoodies that he left in there, knowing it would be cold in the band room. (You had a locker in one side of the school while Peter had his own in the other side. You both agreed to share both, merely for convenience and nothing more.) Ned leaned on the locker next to yours, facing you.

He fiddled with his backpack straps. "You know how the school's making it a 'girls ask guys' kind of thing? Well, Michelle was thinking that maybe we should go! Like, she'll ask me and you can ask Peter—"

You raised a pointed finger at your friend. "I see what you're doing now," you accused him. You shut the locker and began walking towards the band room with Ned beside you. "I don't condone meddling, Leeds."

"But Y/N!" he said excitedly. "MJ and I know that you two like each other. You know that Peter likes you. He knows that you like him. You know that he knows that you like him. He knows that you know that he likes you. It's a win-win!"

You sighed. "You're making it sound more complicated than it actually is."

The two of you made it to the band room and Ned opened the door for both of you to walk in. You both headed to retrieve your instruments, with other students swarming by.

"You're making it actually complicated! Look, Y/N. I'm not supposed to tell you this, but," he lowered his voice, "if you don't ask Peter to the dance, then he's gonna ask you."

You froze, holding your instrument case in the air. "What?" You regained yourself and set the case down, facing Ned. "No, Ned. No. Listen. I'll tell you what I told Michelle, okay? I just want to be Peter's friend—"

"But you like him!"

"But I don't want to do anything about it. It's just a crush—it'll pass. I treasure our friendship more than having a crush that won't last forever."

Ned raised and dropped his arms exasperatedly, giving up.

Michelle popped up, seeming chipper than usual. "Hey guys, we're practicing for contest today," she said. "What're you talking about?"

"It's not gonna happen, MJ," Ned sighed. He grabbed his instrument and trudged away, leaving you two alone since the rest of the students seem to have gone in their respective practice rooms already.

Michelle put her hands on her hips and stared at you, her attitude changing back to normal. "Why not, Y/N? Are you scared or something?"

You sighed. You turned around and headed the same direction Ned went, with MJ following closely behind. "No, I'm not scared. Can you guys please stop meddling? I just don't want anything to happen, and that's it."

The two of you stopped in front of your designated practice room, the door closed. You peeked through the small window in the door, seeing the boys were already in there, oblivious to you and MJ on the other side.

"Why not?" Michelle asked. "You'll regret not ever knowing what could have been—"

"No, that's the thing," you interjected. You were tired of hearing these talks about Peter, and it was beginning to show. "I know that I won't regret it. I can daydream about 'could-have-beens' with Peter all my life, and I'll be fine with that. I don't want to lose him, and if that means that I can't be with him romantically, then that's what I'm gonna do. Having a crush is always temporary, Michelle. Peter's the kind of person that I want permanently in my life. Do you know what I mean now?"

She stared at you with a hint of sadness in her eyes, like she could see right through your words. See what, you weren't sure. After a skeptical moment, she took a breath, surrendering. "Alright, fine. I'll let him know that."

You took a breath of relief. "Thank you."

Michelle turned to open the door to the practice room, Ned and Peter welcoming the two of you in.

-

The practice room was small with the four of you and your instruments in it, meaning you'd be in close quarters with them—Peter specifically.

It was easy to pretend your feelings for Peter weren't there. It was easy to act like yourself despite the elephant in the room. Before the complications, you and Peter were glued together, so why treat him differently now?

Maybe you noticed him noticing you, watching your moves when you pretended you couldn't see where his line of sight was directed. Maybe you took note of him flinching back whenever you accidentally brushed against him, and how the sweat from his palms were more prominent on his instrument.

But it was easier to ignore those things, which is what made it easier for you to act like it never happened in the first place.

Sophomore Year

You weren't usually one to gloat, but damn it you were right about the situation with Peter and you told yourself that you should be happy about it.

Crushes were always temporary. Friendship could last forever.

Could.

Michelle and Ned eventually stopped bringing it up freshman year, and you figured Peter eventually stopped liking you as well.

The whole ordeal wasn't something any of you talked about, an unsaid truth never to be spoken. You refused to even think about those weird few months and how you felt during that time. You told yourself that having a mutual crush on your best friend wasn't something to think about.

You were just glad that you weren't the center of Peter's attention anymore. You knew this was true, mainly because his attention drifted to Liz Allen. The intelligent, breathtaking, lucky girl: Liz Allen.

Besides Peter's obvious crush on her, nothing changed.

"If you three weren't my only friends at this school," MJ said, "I'd stop eating lunch with you guys."

You followed her out of the lunch line after paying, just like the normal routine since last year. The two of you began walking across the cafeteria and towards the same table you've always sat at, with Ned and Peter already there. (The only difference nowadays was Peter sat next to Ned, and you and MJ sat across from them, so Peter could helplessly drool over Liz across the lunch room.)

You chuckled. "Me too, I think. . . It's because of Peter, huh?"

She groaned. "Duh. All he does is gush about her."

You laughed as you sat down next to Michelle, having finally made it to the table. Before even being able to look at your food, Peter began talking.

"She straightened her hair today, guys! She looks so different but still. . . so good."

Ned followed where Peter's eyes were, seeing it was true. Michelle faked a gag, which only you noticed.

The two of you ate your food in silence, which was something different compared to before Liz came in the picture. Peter also stopped bringing you fruit snacks and eating the food that you couldn't finish, as well as denying to take chocolate milk and apple sauce from you.

Sometimes you'd catch yourself missing those little things, but you told yourself it was only because of the change in what used to be normal. Before, normal was getting squished next to Peter and enjoying it, oddly realizing the days he switched between his cologne, and endless banter between the four of you. Now, normal was having to think of what to say to strike a conversation with him, rolling your eyes at his comments on Liz, and being vaguely aware of the few times he looked your way.

You would find yourself hurting, and you'd have to correct your thoughts and say it was only missing the past. There was no use in feeling sorry for yourself, though. Things happen, feelings change, and that was that. You were still friends with Peter in one way or another, and that's what you wanted, so clearly you had to be happy about things going your way.

"You guys are losers," Michelle told the boys, who were still fawning over the senior girl in the cafeteria.

Peter didn't seem to hear her, (he didn't seem to hear anything you and MJ said, nowadays), but Ned shrugged. "You're still friends with us," he replied.

That was true. You were still friends and that's what mattered. It was weird having to remind yourself of that fact, but it was still that: a fact.

"Hey, Y/N?" Peter spoke out of nowhere.

His voice fazed you. It was odd hearing him say your name now, especially after realizing he used to say it almost as often as he breathed.

"You know about girls, right?"

You and Michelle shared a glance, knowing where this was headed.

"I mean, I am a girl, so yeah," you said. You looked at him, but his eyes never seemed to have left the special girl seated somewhere behind you. You paid no mind to it, your eyes going over how his head was dreamily rested on his hand.

"Okay, so," he began. "Hypothetically speaking. . . If you're a senior, would you date a guy that's a sophomore?"

You rolled your eyes, but decided to mess with Peter. "Well, what's the guy like?"

Michelle snorted.

"He's, uhm. . . He's pretty smart. Really nice, I think—"

"He's a cutie!" Ned chimed in.

You shrugged. "Well, if that's all he has going for him. . ."

"No!" Peter retaliated. "He's really cool, and uh, thinks you're pretty! Yeah, you're pretty."

You felt your face heat up and you were glad that none of your friends were looking at you for once.

-

You were warned that the people you walk into high school with would never be the people you'd walk out of high school with. People grew apart and that was life, apparently. You didn't think those warnings would actually apply to you, though. You thought the four of you were too strong together to separate.

By the time sophomore year was halfway done, you were proved dearly wrong.

You thought Liz would be the only strain on your friendship with Peter, but his behavior drastically changed out of nowhere then suddenly he got an internship with Stark Enterprises. Peter was one of the smartest people you ever met, so you weren't surprised. If anything, the real surprise was he not only quit the only class he had with you—which was music—but he stopped even trying to talk to you.

You and Michelle decided to stop sitting with Peter and Ned during lunch.

"There he goes again," Michelle pointed.

You followed her gaze and saw that Peter was fawning over Liz again, which was weird considering he rarely showed up during lunch anymore.

It hurt. You knew that now. Missing Peter wasn't something you'd expect to feel, but lately? It's all you've felt.

You didn't have to miss MJ or Ned, because you still saw them and talked to them regularly. It was only Peter. Always Peter freaking Parker.

Maybe you took him for granted. You'd never thought that there'd come a day that you'd stop sharing food, sharing classes, sharing a conversation.

"No point in regretting it," you said aloud.

It was more for yourself than to Michelle. You made your decision on who Peter was to you, so it would only be a waste of time in wondering who he could have been.

Junior Year

Something changed sophomore year. Ned told you that Peter ditched the academic decathlon which resulted in him getting detention. That was something you never expected to hear, considering Peter was the perfect example of Midtown High's star student.

The beginning of junior year, you saw him in music. He stayed this time.

He seemed to be taking advantage of "conveniently" getting the same class like before. He made a point to talk to you again—during class and lunch—and it was like he never ditched you and MJ.

"Oh my God," you rolled your eyes. You aggressively turned your body to face Peter who sat beside you. "You just want to win! You're not even right!"

He looked at Ned and MJ sat in front of you two for help, but they only stared back with clear amusement. (The four of you assumed your usual seats from freshman year, so you would always get squished against Peter's side at lunch again.)

"It doesn't matter if I'm right!" he exclaimed with big hand gestures. "A debate is a debate! You could be right—I'm not saying you are—but I'm just better at debating than you."

Ned did a terrible job at hiding his laughter from the argument you were having with Peter.

This was something that you were happy you had the chance of getting used to again—not that you'd ever tell Peter that. As soon as the school year began and all of you sat together, not so playful yelling was all that accompanied the lunch table.

The dorky boy loved proving himself right, and you loved proving people wrong. As soon as the second week of sharing lunch in the cafeteria passed by, it would have been weird not to bicker with him like before.

Michelle slammed her book closed, startling the three of you to silence. "Look," she said, giving you and Peter a death glare. "Y/N, Peter has some good points—all only technical, but still good."

Peter thanked her and you huffed, upset MJ wasn't on your side.

"Shut up, Peter," she said. "Peter, Y/N's still right, and you're just gross."

"Ha!" you yelled, then rose from the table's bench and reached over to high-five Ned. (You were sure he'd side with either of you, but it was the thought that counts.)

Peter scoffed. "It's not that gross," he said, refusing to take Michelle's answer. "If you were on a deserted island with a bag of frozen chicken nuggets and no microwave, it would still be safe to eat them—"

"The directions say to microwave them for a reason, Peter!" you interrupted.

"It's already cooked!" he brought up, which was something he pointed out earlier in the conversation. "It's cooked before it's frozen, then you can just warm it up in the microwave—but that doesn't mean you have to—"

"Y'know what, fine," you said, slamming your hands down on top of the lunch table. "You can eat frozen chicken nuggets all you want, Peter. But I am going to warm mine up in the microwave like everybody else. And if you get some weird disease, don't come crying to me because I was right—"

"I won't come crying back to you! Because I'm still right!"

The bell rang, signaling the end of your lunch before you could put another word in. The four of you immediately rose, with MJ and Ned heading straight to the band room.

You reached down for your backpack, only not to find it where you left it. Turning around, Peter held it in the air for you to shrug on. Just like before.

The two of you silently walked side by side to your locker so you could switch out textbooks and get one of Peter's sweaters that he always "forgot" in there.

"How's that one guy doing?" Peter asked, one hand in his jean pocket with the other gripping his backpack strap.

You shrugged, opening your locker. He leaned against the locker next to yours, staring you down with his usual grin.

You'd be damned if you didn't say puberty was doing Parker well. You wouldn't have noticed it if he hadn't ditched you last school year, but he definitely got. . . toned, to say the least. He also learned how to use hair gel and walked around school with clothes that seemed to make him more confident.

You cleared the thoughts away. Those things were only noticeable because you were friends with him. Obviously.

"You mean Carlos?" you replied. You reached into the locker and sorted out what you needed to.

Peter nodded then grabbed the textbooks you had in your arms. You shut the locker and the two of you began your walk to the band room.

"I'm pretty sure he was flirting with me, which was nice," you told your friend. "But he stopped talking to me out of nowhere and hasn't even opened my messages since."

He scrunched his eyebrows. "Here, lemme see the messages."

Before you could reach in your back pocket for your phone, Peter beat you to it with his free hand. He unlocked it and went to the messages. While reading it, he chuckled.

"Seriously, Y/N?" he said, amused. "That's why he stopped replying! You called him 'dude!'"

You gave him a shocked look. "So what? I call everyone dude."

Making it to the band room, you opened the door and followed Peter in. He spoke while the two of you set down your belongings. "You friend-zoned him."

You scoffed. "I did not!"

He gave you a look. "Y/N. I've been friend-zoned enough times to know when somebody else is getting friend-zoned."

You rolled your eyes and turned around to get yours and Peter's instruments, but something felt off about what he said. You didn't really care about talking to Carlos, but what Peter said felt like it was partially directed to you. You didn't blame him, because you technically did friend-zone him. . . but that was two years ago! Clearly he let it go by now, because you definitely did.

Senior Year

You and Michelle stumbled inside her home, waving a goodbye to Peter—who dropped you two off—before shutting the front door.

"Dude," you turned to her. She looked at you with glazed eyes, but was still able to keep her focus. You continued, "I am so gone."

Both of you giggled, leaning on each other to take off your shoes and put aside your bags. MJ led you to a couch, retrieved water from the kitchen, then sat next to you. She chugged the water down with a hand clearly steadier than yours. "What do you mean?" she asked. Her eyes were bloodshot and droopy, but she looked put together for the most part.

You shrugged lazily, taking a sip of your water. "You've seen me smoke," you said to her. "I've been. . . chill, buzzed, whatever. But right now? I am high." Laughter interrupted whatever you could have said next, though you weren't sure if you had anything to say.

She laughed with you, still clearly having a good time despite being more sober. "Really?"

"Yeah," you nodded. "Like," you looked around the room, searching for the right set of words. "I haven't been this high in a while. . . Like, you've never seen me this gone."

"Ooh," she rubbed her hands together comically. "I'm excited."

You rubbed your eye, forgetting the makeup you had on. "Why?"

"Because!" she chirped up. "You know what they say? Drunk words are sober thoughts. Well, high words too, maybe."

You shook your head with a smile before drinking more water. You didn't mind letting loose with Michelle; you trusted her, which was why you smoked as much as you did in the first place. You were comfortable enough to allow her to see this side of you, even if there was the chance you might not remember any of it in the morning.

You helped each other up the stairs, having decided you should at least take off your makeup and change your clothes. (Thank God her parents weren't coming home that night.) By the time you both finished, you were seated comfortably on the couch once again, this time underneath one large blanket and with the television playing late night cartoons in front of you. A single lamp as well as the TV were your only light sources, which kept the living room in a dim glow.

"Can I be honest?" you spoke over the cartoons, startling Michelle. Neither of you were sobering up at all, but that fact didn't stop anything.

She nodded and turned off the TV. MJ turned to completely face you, giving you her attention. "Yeah," she said. "What's up?"

You began rambling without hesitation. "You know how Peter was at the game? Well, of course he was. He had to be because the band was playing for the football team and he's in band. . . But anyways, I didn't talk to him at all—he always seemed busy with somebody else—but I couldn't stop. . . I don't know. I caught myself looking for him a lot, like, to see if he moved around the bleachers or something."

Michelle nodded, allowing you to continue.

"Okay, well. . . I don't know, dude," you continued. "You remember how we had crushes on each other freshman year? Well—I don't think I have a crush on him, I swear—but I feel something. . . It's weird. He's one of my best friends but I know there's something stronger there."

She looked around the room thoughtfully, searching for a reply. "What do you feel?"

It was hard to think clearly and how to explain yourself; the only word that stayed in your head the entire time was his name. Peter, Peter, Peter.

You began rambling. As soon as the words left your mouth, you instantly forgot what they were, but that didn't stop you from talking. "Michelle, it's so weird. I've never really told you this but, remember when he had a crush on Liz? And when he ditched us for a while after that? I—I think I missed him. And not just as a friend. You know what, I don't know."

Peter, Peter, Peter.

You shook your hands in the air as if you could shoo your thoughts away.

You continued. "I care about him as a friend and stuff, but I don't think how I've felt about him is how I feel about other people, like you or Ned. It's different. Like, I don't want to lose him. I don't want him out of my life."

Peter, Peter, Peter.

You sighed. "When he was gone for the whole Stark Internship thing, it felt like I really lost someone. I mean, I don't have to talk to you or Ned for days—weeks, even—and I'll be fine. But when the same thing happened with Peter? I would feel so. . . lost."

Michelle nodded, staying attentive the entire time. There was a part of you that knew she wasn't high enough to forget any of this, though you were sure you wouldn't remember much.

"What do you want me to say?" she asked.

You shrugged, looking down at your hands. Peter, Peter. "What does it sound like to you? I don't know what I'm feeling is called, but it's definitely not just a friendly thing."

She stared at you for a moment, contemplating what to do next. "I'm not sure if this has anything to do with you two," she began, "but I think you should know. . . You know how you'd leave during lunch sometimes to go to the bathroom?"

You nodded, recalling the multiple occasions.

"Well," she continued. "Ned and I talked about it, and we noticed that Peter's not the same when you're gone, either. Like, he'd look so bored and would play games on his phone compared to when you're at the table and he'd never stop talking."

You imagined him doing so. "Huh."

"Yeah. . ." she said. "Let's just go to sleep, okay? Sleep on it, and I'll remind you whatever you forgot you said in the morning, alright? Then we can figure out what to do."

As soon as MJ said the word "sleep," you instantly realized how heavy your eyelids felt. You nodded at her proposal, and laid yourself down on the couch with her.

You weren't sure if your eyes were closed or if it was just that dark in the living room, but you were definitely thinking. You imagined the feeling of being brushed against Peter's body, whenever you sat next to each other or walked side by side in the school halls. He started driving recently, and for some reason you always got shotgun while MJ and Ned didn't hesitate to sit in the back. You could nearly feel your elbows touching when you both leaned on the console at the same time. You remembered the times he'd laugh around you, uncaring about how loud it might've been, as well as the fact that he said your name more times in one day than anybody else did in a whole month.

His absence sophomore year definitely put a strain on you. You loved Michelle and Ned to bits, but you were pretty sure you might've loved Peter in a different way.

Him being out of your life for that period of time was confusing but, at the same time, clearer than looking through a window. You managed to keep tabs on him even if it meant only scrolling through his Instagram or seeing how he'd hold himself across the hall. You knew then that you cared about that boy more than you ever cared for anyone else.

You were terrified of you two becoming more than friends because that meant you had a chance of it ending badly and never talking to him again. Staying friends meant staying safe.

It meant that you had more of a chance of him being with you, which is what you knew you always wanted. You knew you'd be happy, crush or not, as long as Peter was in your life the rest of the way.

Is that what it feels like to love?

-

You nervously rubbed your hands together, which gained odd looks from other students due to the warm New York weather. It was a few months after that fated night with Michelle, the day of the senior field trip. The entire senior class got to go into the city and do whatever they wanted for an entire school day.

Michelle coolly stood beside you, her hands in both her jacket pockets. "I'm excited," she admitted.

You squinted at her. "For what?"

An uncharacteristic smile broke her face. "You know! You're finally gonna confess your feelings to Parker. It's about time, honestly. Ned and I were beginning to think about calling off our deal we started freshman year—"

"Hey guys!" a voice chimed in from afar.

You gave MJ a look to stop talking about the subject, watching Ned and Peter walking towards you two.

"I am so excited," Ned said. You caught him giving Michelle a wink, which told you that she informed him of the "plan."

You would've groaned if Peter weren't standing right next to you.

"Me too!" Peter said obliviously. "I really want to check out that new pop culture museum."

A teacher announced for everyone to gather up and get inside the bus. The four of you sat in the back together, you and MJ sharing one seat while Peter and Ned were seated right in front of you.

"I'm scared of getting lost, honestly," Ned confessed a bit after the bus began moving.

Peter huffed his chest. "Don't worry, man! The internship," he winked at the three of you, "really let me get to know the city, so I'll know everywhere we go."

You and MJ rolled your eyes together. Peter had shared his secret about being Spider-Man with the two of you not too long after he got his license, only because his "spider senses were tingling" right before avoiding a crash.

"By 'everywhere' do you mean all the port-a-potty's?" you teased him.

Peter made a face. "That was one time! Ya use the bathroom once and that's when the paparazzi show up," he whispered to himself.

-

You were nervous for nearly the entire day due to the anticipation of confessing to Peter. It was hard figuring out when and where to do so; should you make a big deal out of it like one big crush proposal or just bring it up out of nowhere as if it were the most normal thing to say?

Decisions, decisions.

The four of you were inside the new Museum of Pop Culture, wandering around aimlessly with offhand remarks for everything in the exhibits.

"Guys," Ned said. He walked beside Michelle while you and Peter were behind. "The horror exhibit actually looks pretty scary."

You peeked through the glass doors, the exhibit on the other side. All you could see was red glowing from the ceiling, which did make Ned seem correct.

"Never fear," Peter whispered to the three of you. "Spider-Man is here."

Your group walked through the doors, instantly being met by speakers blasting screams and haunting music. The red lights from above were your only source of light, leading the way deeper into the exhibit.

"Oh," MJ said softly. "Y/N, don't look up."

Not many things scared you, but you knew that Michelle was well aware of what did.

Trusting her, you instinctively gripped onto Peter's upper arm and watched your feet move on the ground. You noticed he instantly tensed at the contact, his bicep tougher with your fingers barely able to wrap around it.

"It's alright, Y/N," Peter said, looking up to see what MJ was talking about. "It's not even that ba—ohmygod we're not walking that way."

He redirected you to the left after the exhibit opened up into a large room. You heard Ned and Michelle chuckle at Peter, who allowed the two of you to move in front of them.

"Dude," you heard Ned from behind. "It's just a bunch of hanging bodies wrapped like. . . mummies?"

Knowing you were well past whatever MJ told you not to look at, you raised your head and took in your surroundings.

"Oh," you said. "It's not that bad."

You looked to the right side of the room where Peter made a point not to cross and saw what Ned was talking about. You laughed, letting go of Peter's arm. "You call yourself Spider-Man? It's not even that scary."

All of you stopped and stood with one of the walls behind you, scoping out the exhibit.

"That's the one thing I don't like!" Peter complained.

Michelle walked over to the small area of fake bodies hanging from the ceiling, all of them covered with cloth and net. She poked it.

"It's fake, you dork," she said.

You and Ned followed her and saw the bodies made a maze, leading to an explanation on what movie that section was about. The three of you taunted Peter, walking into the maze.

The brunette puffed his chest. "Yeah, whatever."

He was last to go inside, the rest of you well ahead. There was a line of bodies between you and him, so you pushed the one closest to him.

Peter screeched.

"One thing!" he screamed. "That is the one single thing! I hate you guys!"

The rest of you broke out into laughter.

-

You were all seated in a McDonald's booth, leisurely eating your shared meals. You had assumed the same seating as you always did for lunch at Midtown.

You felt a kick from under the table. Looking up, Michelle gave you a pointed look.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom," she announced.

She scooted out of the booth and stood up.

"Oh yeah, me too." Ned said.

The two of them walked towards the back of the fast food restaurant.

So this was it.

How the hell were you going to do it? You didn't even know if Peter had any feelings more than platonic for you. What if all he felt was platonic? You would make things awkward, ruin your friendship, waste all that time for the past four years being one of his best friends for something non-mutual.

You could hear your heart beating through your eardrums. Your hand shook a little every time you raised a fry to your mouth.

You were terrified. You weren't sure if confessing would even be worth it. In a few months, high school would be over. You'd have no good reason to see any of your friends everyday again, nonetheless Peter by himself.

Maybe you've just been overthinking everything. It wouldn't have been hard to believe that your feelings came only from convenience of going to the same school, having the same class, eating at the same table.

You cared for him, but maybe that was all there was. It could just be an unconditional love, like loving a brother.

You shook your head at yourself. That wasn't it; you definitely did not think of Peter as a brother. Even a little graze against him made your senses go wild. Every time you had eye contact with him, you'd force yourself not to look away despite thinking he'd always have been able to look straight into your soul and know what you felt.

You always knew what he would say if he saw you do something stupid, and you were always excited to hear what he'd think about something that happened to you when he wasn't there. You'd be able to recognize his laugh a mile away, and being the cause of his smile made you feel light.

You knew he'd tell you the truth on which shirt looked better with which jeans and not just say you looked good no matter what. He'd make sure to take stray lint out of your hair and point out if you had something in your teeth.

You've had short crushes on other people, and you even dated some of them for an amount of time. They never made you feel the same way Peter did.

You remembered the feelings you had when you found out he went to homecoming with Liz Allen sophomore year. When you learned of his crush on her, it was a dull ache. But when you even saw them at the dance together? It pierced.

But you were still able to get back to the groove of your feelings after that.

Yeah, you might've been in love with Peter Parker. What took you four years to realize that?

"Hey, Y/N?"

Your head jerked up and you looked at him beside you. God, what were you going to do? Could you bring yourself to say it?

Shut up,you thought to yourself. Eventually, it'll be too late. Say it now.

Peter continued talking after you stayed silent.

"I know this is really out of the blue," he said. He put down the burger in his hands and faced you completely. "But I just want to say thank you for everything. We're gonna be graduating pretty soon and. . . I don't know. I just really appreciate you—and MJ and Ned—for sticking around."

You nodded your head, urging him to continue, nervous to hear what he had to say next.

"Things were really weird after I got bit by the spider and I still feel like shit for ditching you guys for a while. . . But thanks for letting me come back. I couldn't have ever imagined getting better people in my life than you three. Even if we go across the country for college or something, I really hope we can all stay friends. I love you guys, you know."

Oh.

You smiled at him like he did to you. Friends.

You cleared your throat. "I love you too, Pete."