#peter exposite

[demigod-of-the-agni]

Spider-Man India, but... where from India?

A SUPER long post featuring talks of: cultural identity, characterisation, the caste system, and what makes Spider-Man Spider-Man.

I’m prefacing this by saying that I am a second-generation immigrant. I was born in Australia, but my cultural background is from South India. My experiences with what it means to be “Indian” is going to be very different from the experiences of those who are born and brought up in India.

If you, reader, want to add anything, please reblog and add your thoughts. This is meant to be a post open for discussion — the more interaction we get, the better we become aware of these nuances.

So I made this poll asking folks to pick a region of India where I would draw Pavitr Prabhakar in their cultural wear. This idea had been on my mind for a long while now, as I had been inspired by Annie Hazarika’s Northeastern Spidey artwork in the wake of ATSV’s release, but never got the time to actually do it until now. I wanted to get a little interactive and made the poll so I could have people choose which of the different regions — North, Northeast, Central, East, West, South — to do first.

The outcome was not what I expected. As you can see, out of 83 votes:

THE RESULTS

South India takes up almost half of all votes (44.6%), followed by Northeast and Central (both 14.5%) and then East (13.3%). In all my life growing up, support towards or even just the awareness of South India was pretty low. Despite this being a very contained poll, why would nearly half of all voters pick South India in favour of other popular choices like Central or North India?

Then I thought about the layout of the poll: Title, Options, Context.

Title: "Tell us who you want to see…"

Options: North, Northeast, Central, East, West, South

Context: I want to make art of the boy again

At first I thought: ah geez. this is my fault. I didn't make the poll clear enough. do they think I want them to figure out where Pavitr came from? That's not what I wanted, maybe I should have added the context before the options.

Then I thought: ah geez. is it my fault for people not reading the entire damn thing before clicking a button? That's pretty stupid.

But regardless, the thought did prompt a line of thinking I know many of us desi folk have been considering since Spider-Man India was first conceived — or, at least, since the announcement that he was going to appear in ATSV. Hell, even I thought of it:

Where did Spider-Man India come from?

FROM A CULTURALLY DIVERSE INDIA

As we know, India is so culturally diverse, and no doubt ATSV creators had to take that into account. Because the ORIGINAL Spider-Man India came from Mumbai — most likely because Mumbai and Manhattan both started with the same letter.

But going beyond that, it’s also because Mumbai is one of the most recognisable cities in India - it’s also known as Bombay. It’s where Bollywood films are shot. It’s where superstar Hindi actors and actresses show up. Mumbai is synonymous with India in that regard, because the easiest way Western countries can interact with Indian culture is through BOLLYWOOD, through HINDI FILMS, through MUMBAI. Suddenly, India is Mumbai, India is a Hindi-only country, India is just this isolated thing we see through an infinitely narrow lens.

We’ve gotten a little better in recent years, but boy I will tell you how uncomfortable I’ve gotten when people (yes, even desi people) come up to me and tell me, Oh, you’re Indian right? Can you speak Hindi? Why don’t you speak Hindi? You’re not Indian if you don’t speak Hindi, that’s India’s national language!

I have been — still am — so afraid of telling people that I don’t speak Hindi, that I’m Tamil, that I don’t care that Hindi is India’s “national” language (it’s an administrative language, Kavin, get your fucking facts right). It’s weird, it’s isolating, and it has made me feel like I wasn’t “Indian” enough to be accepted into the group of “Indian” people.

So I am thankful that ATSV went out of their way to integrate as much variety of Indian culture into the Mumbattan sequence. Maybe that way, the younger generation of desi folk won’t feel so isolated, and that younger Western people will be more open to learning about all these cultural differences within such a vast country.

BUT WHAT DOES THIS HAVE TO DO WITH SPIDER-MAN INDIA?

Everything, actually. There’s a thing called supremacy. You might have heard of it. We all engaged with it at some point, and if you are Indian, no matter where you live, it is inescapable.

It happens the moment you are born — who your family is, where you are born, the language you speak, the colour of your skin; these will be bound to you for life, and it is nigh impossible to break down the stereotypes associated with them.

Certain ethnic groups will be more favourable than others (Centrals, and thus their cultures, will always be favoured over than Souths, as an example) and the same can be said for social groups (Brahmins are more likely to secure influential roles in politics or other areas like priesthood, while the lowers castes, especially Dalits, aren’t even given the decency of respect). Don’t even get me started on colourism, where obviously those of fairer skin will win the lottery while those of darker skin aren’t given the time of day. It’s even worse when morality ties into it — “lighter skinned Indians, like Brahmins, embody good qualities like justice and wisdom”, “dark skinned Indians are cunning and poor, they are untrustworthy”. It’s fucking nuts.

This means, of course, you have a billion people trying to make themselves heard in a system that tries to crush everyone who is not privileged. It only makes sense that people want to elevate themselves and break free from a society that refuses to acknowledge them. These frustrations manifest outwardly, like in protests, but other times — most times — it goes unheard, quietly shaping your way of life, your way of thinking. It becomes a fundamental part of you, and it can go unacknowledged for generations.

So when you have a character like Pavitr Prabhakar enter the scene, people immediately latch onto him and start asking questions many Western audiences don’t even consider. Who is he? What food does he eat? What does he do on Fridays? What’s his family like, his community? All these questions pop up, because, amidst all this turmoil going on in the background, you want a mainstream popular character to be like you, who knows your way of life so intimately, that he may as well be a part of your community.

BUT THAT'S THE THING — HE'S FICTIONAL

I am guilty of this. In fact, I’ve flaunted in numerous posts how I think he’s the perfect Tamil boy, how he dances bharatanatyam, how he does all these Tamil things that no one will understand except myself. All these niche things that only I, and maybe a few others, will understand.

I’ve seen other people do it, too. I’ve seen people geek out over his dark brown skin, his kalari dhoti, how he fights so effortlessly in the kalaripayattu martial arts style. I’ve seen people write him as Malayali, as Hindi, as every kind of Indian person imaginable.

I’ve also seen him be written where he’s subjected to typical Indian and broader Asian stereotypes. You know the ones I’m so fond of calling out. The thing is, I’ve seen so much of Pavitr being presented in so many different ways, and I worry how the rest of the desi folk will take it. 

You finally have a character who could be you, but now he’s someone else’s plaything. Your entire life is shaped by what you can and can’t do simply because you were born to an Indian family, and here’s the one person who could represent you now at the mercy of someone else’s whims. He’s off living a life that is so distant from yours, you can hardly recognise him.

It shouldn’t hurt as much as it does, yeah? But, again, you’re looking at it from that infinitely narrow lens Westerners use to look at India from Bollywood.

AND PAVITR PRABHAKAR DOESN'T LIVE IN INDIA

He lives in Mumbattan. He lives in a made-up, fictional world that doesn’t follow the way of life of our world. He lives in a city where Mumbai and Manhattan got fucking squashed together. There are so many memes about colonialism right there. Mumbattan isn’t real! Spider-Man India isn’t real!! He’s just a dude!! The logic of our world doesn’t apply to him!!!

“But his surname originates from ______” okay but does that matter?

“But he’s wearing a kalari dhoti so surely he’s ______” okay but does that matter?

“But his skin colour is darker so he must be ______” okay but does that matter?

“But he lives in Mumbai so he must be ______” okay but does that matter?

I sound insensitive and brash and annoying and it looks like I’m yapping just for the sake of riling you up, so direct that little burst of anger you got there at me, and keep reading.

Listen. I’m going to ask you a question that I’ve asked myself a million times over. I want you to answer honestly. I want you to ask this question to yourself and answer honestly:

Are you trying to convince me on who Pavitr Prabhakar should be?

... but why shouldn't i?

I’ll tell you this again — I did the same thing. You’re not at fault for this, but I want you to just...have a little think over. Just a little moment of self-reflection, to think about why you are so intent on boxing this guy.

It took me a while to reorganise my thinking and how to best approach a character like Pavitr, so I will give you all the time you need as well as a little springboard to focus your thoughts on.

SPIDER-MAN (INDIA) IS JUST A MASK

“What I like about the costume is that anybody reading Spider-Man in any part of the world can imagine that they themselves are under the costume. And that’s a good thing.”

Stan Lee said that. Remember how he was so intent on making sure that everybody got the idea that Spider-Man as an entity is fundamentally broken without Peter Parker there to put on the suit and save the day? That ultimately it was the person beneath the mask, no matter who they were, that mattered most?

Spider-Man India is no less different. You can argue with me that Peter Parker!Spidey is supposed to represent working class struggles in the face of leering corporate entities who endanger the regular folk like us, and so Pavitr Prabhakar should also function the same way. Pavitr should also be a working class guy of this specific social standing fighting people of this other social standing.

But that takes away the authenticity of Spider-Man India. Looking at him through the Peter Parker lens forces you to look at him through the Western lens, and it significantly lessens what you can do with the character — suddenly, it’s a fight to be heard, to be seen, to be recognised. It’s yelling over each other that Pavitr Prabhakar is this ethnicity, is that caste, this or that, this or that, this or that.

There’s a reason why he’s called Spider-Man India, infuriatingly vague as it is. And that’s the point — the vagueness of his identity fulfils Lee’s purpose for a character that could theoretically be embodied by anyone. If he had been called “Spider-Man Mumbai”, you cut out a majority of the population (and in capitalist terms, you cut out a good chunk of the market).

And in the case of Spider-Man India? Whew — you’ve got about a billion people imagining a billion different versions of him.

Whoever you are, whatever you see in Pavitr, that is what is personal to you, and there is nothing wrong with that, and I will not fault you for it. I will not fault you for saying Pavitr is from Central due to the origins of his last name. I also will not fault you for saying Pavitr is from South due to him practising kalaripayattu. I also will not fault you for saying he is not Hindu. I also will not fault you for saying he is a particular ethnicity without any proof.

What I will fault you for is trying to convince me and the others around you that Pavitr Prabhakar should be this particular ethnicity/have this cultural background because of some specific reason. I literally don’t care and it is fundamentally going against his character, going against the “anyone can wear the mask” sentiment of Spider-Man. By doing this, you are strengthening the walls that first divided us. You’re feeding the stratification and segmentation of our cultures — something that is actually not present in the fictional world of Mumbattan.

Like I said before: Mumbattan isn’t real, so the divides between ethnicities and cultural backgrounds are practically nonexistent. The best thing is that it is visually there for all to see. My favourite piece of evidence is this:

It’s a marquee for a cinema in the Mumbattan sequence, in the “Quick tour: this is where the traffic is” section. It has four titles; the first two are written in Hindi. The third title is written in Bengali*, and the fourth title is written in Tamil. You go to Mumbai and you won’t see a single shred of Bengali nor Tamil there, much less any other language that's not common in Maharashtra (Western India). Seeing this for the first time, you know what went through my head?

Wow, the numerous cultures of India are so intermingled here in Mumbattan! Everyone and everything is welcome!

I was happy, not just because of Tamil representation, but because of the fact that the plethora of Indian cultures are showcased coexisting in such a short sequence. This is India embracing all the little parts that make up its grander identity. This scene literally opened my eyes seeing such beauty in all the diverse cultures thriving together. In a place where language and cultural backgrounds blend so easily, each one complementing one another.

It is so easy to believe that, from this colourful palette of a setting, Pavitr Prabhakar truly is Spider-Man India, no matter where he comes from.

It’s easy to believe that Pavitr can come from any part of India, and I won’t call you out if the origin you have for him is different from the origin I have. You don’t need to stake out territory and stand your ground — you’re entitled to that opinion, and I respect it. In fact, I encourage it!!!

Because there’s only so much you can show in a ten minute segment of a film about a country that has such a vast history and even greater number of cultures. I want to see all of it — I want him to be a Malayali boy, a Hindi boy, a Bengali boy, a Telugu boy, an Urdu boy, whatever!! I want you to write him or draw him immersed in your culture, so that I can see the beauty of your background, the wonderful little things that make your culture unique and different from mine!

And, as many friends have said, it’s so common for Indian folks to be migrating around within our own country. A person with a Maharashtrian surname might end up living in Punjab, and no one really minds that. I’m actually from Karnataka, my family speaks Kannada, but somewhere down the line my ancestors moved to Tamil Nadu and settled down and lived very fulfilling lives. So I don’t actually have the “pure Tamil” upbringing, contrary to popular belief; I’ve gotten a mix of both Kannada and Tamil lifestyles, and it’s made my life that much richer. 

So it’s common for people to “not” look like their surname, if that’s what you’re really afraid about. In fact, it just adds to that layer of nuance, that even despite these rigid identities between ethnicities we as Indian people still intermingle with one another, bringing slivers of our cultures to share with others. Pavitr could just as well have been born in one state and moved around the country, and he happens to live in Mumbattan now. It’s entirely possible and there’s nothing to disprove that.

We don’t need to clamber over one another declaring that only one ethnicity is the “right” ethnicity, because, again, you will be looking at Pavitr and the rest of India in that narrow Western lens — a country with such rich cultural variety reduced to a homogenous restrictive way of life.

THE POLL: REINTERPRETED

This whole thing started because I was wondering why my little poll was so skewed — I thought people assumed I was asking them where he came from, then paired his physical appearance with the most logical options available. I thought it was my fault, that I had somehow influenced this outcome without knowing.

Truth is, I will never really know. But I will be thankful for it, because it gave me the opportunity to finally broach this topic, something that many of us desi folk are hesitant to talk about. I hope you have learned something from this, whether you are desi or a casual Spider-Man fan or someone who just so happened to stumble upon this. 

So just…be a little more open. Recognise that India, like many many countries and nations, is made up of a plethora of smaller cultures. And remember, if you’re trying to convince Pavitr that he’s a particular ethnicity, he’s going to wave his hand at you and say, “Ha, me? No, I’m one of the people that live here in the best Indian city! I’m Spider-Man India, dost!”

(Regardless, he still considers you a friend, because to him, the people matter more to him than you trying to box him into something he’s not.)

*Note: thank you dear anon for letting me know that the third title was Bengali, twas my mistake for literally completely forgetting

[mariocki]

New Scotland Yard: We Do What We Can (2.11, LWT, 1972)

"I have to be careful."

"You're big and ugly enough to look after yourself."

"Not with this little firm I'm not."

"Which firm?"

"Jimmy Sutton's. He don't believe in straighteners. Goes in for surgery."

"Surgery?"

"Amputation with a sawn-off shotgun."

"Ah. Well, you can always apply for a claim at the Criminal Injuries Board."

"I wouldn't have a leg to stand on, would I?"

[awhoreintheory]

Welcome to the Circus

check tags / ch1 / here / ch3 / ch4 /

ao3

The computers in the library were big and clunky, and honestly reminded Peter of the computers from his elementary school. Different brand, though. 

Peter pursed his lips, because… How is that name pronounced? Wayne? Like… Like Kanye? With a “W”? Way-an-ae? This is a terrible name. Why doesn’t this place have any Stark computers? They are way more efficient, plus a bunch of the older models just went on a huge sale.

Peter sighed, going to run his hand through his hair, but was immediately caught in all the tangles. He grimaced. He’ll definitely need to find somewhere to shower— and a change of clothes. And some shoes. Peter swallowed his groan of annoyance. While hygiene was, in fact, very important, Peter needed to figure out where specifically in Jersey he was first, and then where the hell Doctor Strange was. And then get Karen back up and online. 

Peter fidgeted anxiously as the computer booted up, the outdated fan spinning with all its might. Peter twitched at the squeak, the sound of someone grinding their teeth in front of him, and someone licking their fingers before turning the page of their book. Peter almost preferred the loudness of outside— at least then he wouldn’t hear every individual person's movement or annoying quirk in excruciating detail. It all blended together. Kind of. Fucking teeth grinders, Peter is looking at you. 

Peter’s eyebrow twitched in annoyance, the green only fueling his irritation. 

The computer lit up with the guest login, and Peter didn’t hesitate to open… Safari? Nobody uses Safari, what? And why did everything look so damn… Old? Jesus, Peter knew that Jersey sucked, but was their funding that bad? 

Glancing down at the bottom right corner, Peter got the time. It was twenty past one, and it was… February third? 2015? That can’t be right. It was December. Christmas was right around the corner. Not to mention, it was 2023, last Peter checked. Were the computers broken, or something? They need to put a sign up for that, honestly. If the date wasn’t even correct, was the time? 

Glancing up at the clock hung on the wall across the library proved that, yes, it was indeed the right time. His spidey-sense tingled lightly. 

Safari loaded up— after taking its sweet, sweet time— and Peter didn’t hesitate to type in; 

current location|

Several results popped up, all about Gotham, New Jersey. Bingo! Peter was in Jersey! He knew a damn Jersey accent when he heard one. That’s right, Peter’s that good. (Peter was bullied by a kid from New Jersey in the fourth grade. Screw you, Joshua Lopez.) 

Peter had never heard of Gotham, but he also could not tell you where Illinois was on the map if you put a gun to his head. Peter missed most of his geography classes while out Spider-Manning, so his chances were dashed right from the start. (Still passed with a B-, though.)

Feeling a little lighter now that he’d answered one of the many questions swirling in his mind, Peter typed out his next query:

dr strange current location|

[no search results were found] 

Peter frowned as the search yielded no results. He tried again, typing more carefully this time.

dr strange last sighting|

[no search results were found]

Still, the search came up empty. Peter's frustration grew. Where was Doctor Strange? He was supposed to be there, helping Peter figure out what had happened and how to fix it.

Right, fix it… They were fixing something. That’s why Peter was with Dr. Strange. 

What… What were they fixing? 

Peter’s eyebrows furrowed even deeper. That’s, like, super weird. The internet keeps better tabs on superheroes than S.H.I.E.L.D half the time. There should’ve been thousands of results, even with this clunky computer. 

Maybe his last fight wasn’t recorded. Maybe that would help. They could’ve just not gotten a hold of the most recent fight. Maybe it hasn't been long enough yet. 

spider-man last sighting|

[no search results found] 

No search results found…

What? 

What the fuck? 

That’s not possible. Spider-Man hadn’t been out of the spotlight in years. 

Peter’s heart thundered in his chest as his fingers flew across the bulky keyboard. His fingers kept accidentally sticking in his panic, ripping keys off in his haste. 

peter parker| 

Peter let out a small breath as the search went through, multiple links popping up. He expected to see his meme accounts, maybe May’s facebook page filled with pictures of Peter, Ben, and her, maybe even some stuff about how he interned with Tony Stark, Savior of the Universe, and… There was more. Peter should’ve been all over the internet. For some reason.  

Instead, the first thing that popped up was a news article by someone named Vicki Vale. 

“Child Abduction Epidemic in Gotham: When Will Batman Step In?” 

Questions swirled as green festered. Child abduction? And who the hell was Batman? A new vigilante on the scene? A furry? 

Peter had never read through something faster. 

This was… What? 

It was a pitifully short article, considering the severity and implications, but it seemed there was barely any information to even write about. It just addressed the surge in child disappearances, questioning when this “Batman” would step up and solve the case, before ending with a list of possible victims. That’s where Peter’s name was. Number twenty-seven of fifty-two. Peter clicked the link on his name, leading him to a separate site. 

There was a picture of him. Except it wasn’t him. 

It featured a dully smiling tween, with black hair and big brown eyes, decently tan and wearing baggy clothes. He had Peter’s same dimples and freckles, the same jawline and face shape, and wild curly hair, but his coloring was all wrong. His age was wrong. This was an eleven-year-old from foster care named Peter Benjamin Parker, but he wasn’t Peter Benjamin Parker. 

Opening a new tab, Peter had a new search. 

Clicking on anything relating to this doppelganger, the more Peter read, the more queasy he felt. 

Orphaned at five. Not from both parents, but rather from a single mother. No father in the picture, then. Instead of Peter’s dad and uncle being brothers, it was… Gotham Peter’s mom and aunt. May got custody of Peter after Mary’s death, and they moved from New York to New Jersey for Thor knows what reasons. This Aunt May never married, there wasn’t even a mention of Uncle Ben.

Peter pursed his lips in discomfort. What the hell kind of sick game was this?  

Clicking on the highlighted name of Maybelle Parker, Peter was disheartened when it led to her obituary. 

 May died in a building that exploded because of the Green Goblin— no, someone named… The Joker? 

Who the hell was letting a clown run around murdering people? And how had he not heard of a new up-and-rising supervillain? Peter would like to think, coupled with Karen and FRIDAY, that he kept well informed on the villain area. 

Peter clicked on the search bar again with a trembling hand. 

tony stark| 

[no search results found] 

stark industries| 

[no reach results found] 

the avengers|

[no search results found] 

thanos|

[no search results found] 

no search results found. 

nosearchresultsfoundnosearchresultsfoundnosearchresultsfoundnosearchresultsfoundnosearchresultsfoundnosearchresultsfoundnosearchresultsfoundnosearchresultsfoundnosearchresultsfoundnosearchresultsfoundnosearchresultsfoundnosearchresultsfoundnosearchresultsfoundnosearchresultsfoundnosearchresultsfoundnosearchresultsfoundnosearchresultsfoundnosearchresultsfoundnosearchresultsfoundnosearchresultsfoundnosearchresultsfoundnosearchresultsfoundnosearchresultsfoundnosearchresultsfoundnosearchresultsfoundnosearchresultsfoundnosearchresultsfoundnosearchresultsfound—

Oh. 

No search results found.

Peter’s throat was dry, eyes wide in disbelief as those damned four words taunted him. No search results found. Nothing familiar to Peter was here. It was like he was on an alien planet— 

Oh. 

Bile rose as Peter thought about those implications. 

Peter wasn’t just in a different state, he was in a different world. 

And, considering the likelihood of a planet existing, holding the exact same likeness to Earth, just missing a few key players, plus nothing on the blip and Thanos, Peter had a pretty good deduction of where he was. 

An alternate universe. 

Peter was in an alternate universe. 

The date wasn’t wrong. Peter was in an alternate universe, one whose timeline was behind his own. That’s why this body was eleven and not seventeen (and apparently dead). Because this timeline was six years behind his own. 

Which explains his father’s and Uncle Ben’s apparent absence in Gotham Peter’s life. A little weird, as Peter would’ve assumed that his life story would’ve stayed consistent. The other Peters’ had an Uncle Ben, and powers, and lived in New York. They didn’t have a Tony Stark, though. Or an Avengers. Peter #3 had a weird romance going on with someone named Death Pool or something, and Peter #2 had literally bonded with an alien symbiote-suit thing, so differences between Peter Parkers weren’t new news. 

 Although, who is he to say, out of the trillions of possibilities in the supposed multiverse, that his story would be the baseline? The standard for Peter Parkers across the multiverse? He had, what? Three Peter Parkers out of a trillion, statistics-wise? For all he knew, Peter could be the multiversal outlier. 

Peter looked down at his tan hands. Young, small, but still calloused. Still sticky with his powers. 

The longer Peter looked, the more differences he spotted. Was he even in his own body? Did he fucking… body snatch this kid’s body? What the hell? How would that even work? He’d need, like, magic or something. 

Hold on. Magic? 

Doctor Strange… 

Doctor Strange? 

Doctor Strange.

Holy shit. 

Doctor Strange had sent him here, to an alternate universe. 

Doctor Strange had sent Peter to an alternate universe because he made a mistake and now he can never, ever go home. 

Going home would rip the multiverse apart.

Going home would kill everyone and everything he loved. Everything Mr. Stark— everything everyone fought so hard to protect; Peter would ruin it all. If he went home, Ned, MJ, Harley Happy, Pepper, Morgan— everyone left, they’d all die. 

At least Doctor Strange hadn’t left anything of Peter behind for them to mourn.

Peter Parker was dead back home too, it seemed. 

Man, Schrodinger would’ve loved Peter. He’s the real-life version of Schrodinger’s cat. (A quick search showed that it was actually Schrodinger’s dog here, so there’s that.) 

Peter leaned back slowly, staring up at the ceiling. He counted all the dips and bumps from an uneven paint job. 

It’s wild to think the multiverse was just a theory a week ago. It really did exist. With alternate versions of heroes, new heroes, and some completely gone. They had names like Batman and Superman, similar to Back Widow and Captain America, but with so many differences. Peter wasn’t sure if he found solace in their similarities or their differences. It would’ve been amazing, 

Too bad this proof came at the cost of his home. 

The keys unstuck from his fingertips, clattering to the carpeted ground. Huh. 

The confusion, disbelief, hurt, disappointment, and anger all swirled together, leaving Peter feeling hollow and numb. Peter wasn’t sure if that was better than feeling everything he otherwise would be feeling. 

He needed to leave. 

Peter needed to clear the computer's search history thoroughly, first. He was in an unfamiliar place, with unfamiliar villains and heroes. He didn’t want to chance anyone finding out about his dimension-hopping dilemma before he even had a meal and a nap. 

He glanced at the mutilated keys on the floor and counter. At least he was still sticky. If he had lost his home, his body and his powers to top it all off? Peter would’ve had a mental breakdown to rival The Greats. (Like that time Clint and Sam decided to prank everyone by replacing all the sugar in the Tower with salt. The chaos that followed was legendary—Bruce’s smoothie exploded, Tony’s coffee tasted like the ocean, and Steve, bless him, tried to be polite about his "salt pancakes" until he couldn’t take it anymore and quietly passed out in the gym. Clint and Sam were on dish duty for a month.)

Accessing the computer's operating system, his mind working absently to navigate through the system's files and directories. He bypassed any security measures with a series of deft keystrokes. 

As he delved deeper into the computer's system, Peter located the browser history files. With a few more commands, he selected the searches about anything from his reality, things that looked out of place, and deleted it.

But Peter didn't just want to delete the history; he wanted to ensure that it was completely erased, with no trace left behind. He wrote a custom script to overwrite the history files multiple times, effectively scrubbing them from the computer's memory.

With a blank stare, Peter executed the script, watching as the computer's screen filled with lines of code cascading down the monitor. He didn’t stick around to make sure it finished; he knew it would. Mr. Stark had taught him almost everything he knew about hacking. (sans Ned’s impromptu lessons, but Mr. Stark.) 

Peter stumbled out of the library absent. Unthinking. Detached. 

Where was he going? 

He wasn’t sure.

It wasn’t home, though. That was for sure. 

He’d never be able to go home again. 

Well, one friend. He looked down at the metal bands on his wrists meaningfully, heart swelling with emotions. He rubbed the deactivated bracelets, trying to find an iota of comfort in them. Peter isn’t sure what he’d do if he couldn’t get Karen back online. The green promised something bad, though. 

Would he ever get another home?

He was a presumed-dead eleven-year-old in a crime-ridden city with no family or friends. 

He’d go back to the library another time. Peter would figure it out— he always does, doesn’t he? He’d just— he couldn’t, not right now. He needed to leave; to collect himself. If he’d stayed there…

The streets grew darker as the people dissipated. How long had he been stuck in front of that computer? 

Looking around, Peter was unsurprised to find he had absolutely no clue where he was. He could, however, feel the stares from people. Not the curious kind, either. Predatory. Which, fair. They didn’t know a full-force punch from Peter packed more heat than most locally sold guns. 

Peter could literally crush a grown man's head with his bare hands. 

Not that he would! He abstains from excessive violence. 

But he could. 

A couple of dudes across the street, all of whom had very rapey vibes if you asked Peter, oriented their body in his direction.  

Ducking into an alleyway, Peter, feet still bloody and shoeless, walked up the side of the wall. It seems, even here, the safest place was in May’s arms on a rooftop. 

Perching himself on the edge of the building, Peter let his abused feet dangle off the edge. The roof was slightly damp— it had probably rained recently. It’d likely rain again tonight, judging by the smell and clouds. 

Looking out, Peter caught as the last of sunlight left the city's sky, ducking below the horizon. Huh. That’s it? No sunset? Just— there’s light, then suddenly there’s not? 

Distaste, longing, and irritation rose up, thick and green. New York was dirty, but Gotham was downright disgusting. The sunset sucked, the architecture was old and outdated by at least a century, and it was so heavily polluted even the sun hid itself away behind clouds and smog. 

Peter clenched his fists, taking a chunk of concrete with him. He threw it as far as he could. It hit a billboard— something about Way-an-ae Enterprises— going straight through. 

Fat tears rolled down Peter’s cheeks. He felt bad, now. Someone was going to have to come up and fix the hole he made. They didn’t deserve that.

Once they started, Peter couldn’t stop them. 

Before long, tears turned into silent sobs that wracked Peter's body, his shoulders trembling with each heave of his chest. Hot tears streamed down his cheeks, tracing crooked paths over the contours of his face as they mingled with the blood, sweat and grime that clung to his skin. His chest felt tight, as if a warehouse was on top of him, crushing him, squeezing out every last drop of his sorrow and despair. 

He was stuck in an alternate dimension. His home dimension’s memory of him, of Peter Benjamin Parker, was completely wiped. It wasn’t even wiped with all of the people he loved still alive. Ben and May and even Mr. Stark couldn’t escape the curse of “all-Peter’s-parental-figures-will-meet-a-premature-demise-one-way-or-another”. Honestly, Pepper is lucky he left when he did; she was next on the curse’s chopping block. 

Pepper and Morgan, Ned, MJ and Harley, too, they were alive. Alive, with no clue someone named Peter Parker was even a part of their life. Maybe it was better that way. At least now they were more likely to live. Get into MIT. Have successful careers, even start a family, without the stress of being involved with some stupid, teenage vigilante. 

Just being a part of Peter’s life can cut down an individual’s life expectancy by more than half. 

The longer you’re around him, the more death lurks.

Peter gasped for air, clawing at his stolen ripped, and bloodied shirt. 

It’s why his parents died. It’s why Uncle Ben died. It’s why Aunt May died. It’s why Mr. Stark, Iron Man, genius of the century, Savior Of The Universe, died.

Dead. 

They’re all dead. 

And Peter was alive. He was their killer; their casket. 

And yet, he walked. 

Every day he woke up, and every day they remained dead. 

Every day, he breathed, while they remained silent, their voices forever silenced by the cruel hand of fate. Peter carried the weight of their absence like a burden upon his soul, a constant reminder of the lives lost and the emptiness that filled his heart.

Their memories haunted him, their faces etched into his mind like a ghostly tableau of the past. He replayed their final moments over and over again, wondering if there was anything he could have done to save them. Perhaps, if he had simply never existed in the first place, they would have been spared. 

But the past remained immutable, a cold and unforgiving master. Peter was left to navigate a world devoid of their presence, a world that felt colder and darker than his ever had before. 

Here, they had existed, but not as Peter remembered them. Peter couldn’t reminisce with a stranger in a coffee line about the amazing Tony Stark; he didn’t even exist here. May never ran F.E.A.S.T. Ben had been a firefighter instead of a police officer here. Not to mention his father wasn’t even in the picture. 

Peter alone held the flickering torch of his loved one’s memories here.

Peter looked out into the night, eyes trailing down toward the empty street below him.

But there were plenty back home who did.  

It was a shitty, horrible, and downright cowardly thought. 

Peter didn’t deserve that kind of peace. 

But, oh, how he longed for it. 

How he longed for May’s warm embrace. Ben’s comforting and wise words. Mr. Stark’s playful banter. His Star Wars nights with Ned. Watching MJ draw. Seeing who could make the dumbest invention with Harley. Morgen coming home from school and giving Peter three new glitter-filled art pieces of her favorite hero; Spider-Man. Pepper’s successor lessons and their quiet moments of reminiscing about Mr. Stark and May. He wouldn’t get to graduate with all his friends and remaining family present. Never get into MIT, like Mr. Stark. Like his Dad. 

He missed it all so, so much. 

Why did his stupid Parker Luck have to ruin it all? 

[whats-in-a-sentence]

"(...) We sat down and drank and we yarned about the old times, but the more he drank the less I liked the look on his face. (...)"

"The Illustrated Sherlock Holmes Treasury" - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

[oh-dear-so-queer]

"(...) Now I'll tell you the queerest part of the whole story. (...)"

"The Illustrated Sherlock Holmes Treasury" - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

[0ooi]

first chapter UP!

[c0rpsedemon]

the thing abt dysmas's design is that while i like to joke abt them being peak bc i don't have to deal with the accursed color and get to stay in my b&w sweetspot ultimately they are held back by the fact that you could make them in every picrew ever

[writiers-room]

So, I think I have OCD? this isn't a new thing, just some background for the content of this post. I get thoughts that distress me but I can't get rid of, and I get compulsions to do things with this feeling that I am in active danger if I don't do them.

The way this manifests in my innerworld (or the source of my outerworld symptoms, depending on how you look at it) is that... there's this entity up here (that I would like to name but I am getting The Feeling when I think about doing so) who brings with it an intense feeling of Dread, like I am About To Die. It creeps towards the control room, and when it gets in there I don't know what happens but I know that things get Very Very Bad. I can't see back there when it happens and trying to view it on "security cameras" (a way I can kind of see past events) is very fuzzy.

Peter is the writer who is mostly in charge of dealing with The Dread. He lets me and us know what things need to be done to keep The Dread away, and warns us when it is coming. He can also be a bit jumpy and overcautious, but I think that's very fair and expected of someone with his job. He's definitely a protector, to put it in common system language, though not a typical one I think.

This post doesn't really have much point besides exposition. I've been so stressed recently that the Dread has broken out again after a long time without it, and so this concept is probably going to be relevant to some future posts.

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ when i'm alone ]❜

━━━ .°˖✧ requested by @lokotrona11 ˚₊ ⊹

ft. peter pevensie x f! reader — the chronicles of narnia

╰₊✧ peter meets a bookworm who makes life in london a bit more bearable┊1.3k words (prt two coming soon)

setting: england after the golden age contains: exposition, first meetings, strangers to friends, minor blood & injury & mentions of fights

➤ author's note: the very first narnia request i received!! there will be a part two that’s further into their relationship and includes more of the request, so please look forward to that (it will be better than this one, trust me, i just thought this meeting would be cute)!

to say adjusting to life back in england was difficult would be an understatement. although it was nice to see his mother again and the familiar landscape of where he grew up, it doesn’t change the fact that it was a complete accident as a result of them exploring during a hunt and going back towards the wardrobe’s tunnel in nostalgic curiosity. all of the siblings would be lying if they said that home had the same magic spark that narnia did with the gray skies and the nauseous smell of pollution, but at least they had the wonders of modern technology here like lightbulbs rather than wax candles. it was even a shock for them to remember that they are no longer the only humans in the world, that animals didn’t talk anymore, and that mythical creatures like centaurs and griffins were only real in fiction. however, the most difficult change for peter by far was the fact that he was no longer the king of a fantastical land, instead he was now some nineteen-year-old boy who wasn’t taken seriously and was often told to go off and do literally anything else that isn’t meddling in adult affairs. it’s common knowledge that he was always very mature for his age since he’s constantly looking out for the younger ones, but it was such a drastic change for him to already be acting like he was in charge of everyone after just a few weeks in the countryside and even wondered what the eccentric professor must have taught him for him to come back acting all high and mighty.

he’s tried so hard to go back to being a normal boy, yet he struggles to hide the regality in the way he acts and the air of superiority he holds. the other former royals are used to his behavior even before being crowned, but soon he found himself isolated from others his age no matter how close they were previously and getting into physical fights with anyone crosses him. he was no longer used to holding his head low when disrespected and now that he’s had a taste for being held in high esteem, he would no longer tolerate it and was now known as a troublesome person whom most people steered clear of.

although his family was concerned for him, peter didn’t seem to have cared less about how quickly his reputation plummeted and he spent his days as a loner. he often found himself exploring the city’s largest library instead of playing sports or getting a job since no one wanted to hire a rebel, reading through overly complicated books about portals and other dimensions. he knew that science wouldn’t be able to explain the phenomenon that he experienced since it was magic, but studying up on the subject made him feel a little bit better that there were other people around the world exploring the subject.

the entire section dedicated to this field of knowledge was in a far corner quite a ways from the entrance, a dusty little space a tad bit darker than everywhere else, and never had a soul near it which made it the perfect place for him to brood and be alone for the most part. the only other person he saw there occasionally was you, someone he only saw through passing within school hallways and heard about receiving academic prizes all the time. while classes were out, he fully believed you had already read all the books in the building. you were there from the moment the sign was flipped to “open” until the moment the librarian told you it was closing time, never thoughtlessly roaming around since you always walked with purpose knowing exactly what you were looking for, and often seen carrying books that towered over your head threatening to tilt over.

despite seeing you every single day, he never really had the chance to talk to you. you seemed so… untouchable… like you didn’t have the time or place to spare for people who weren’t in your schedule. he wonders if he used to appear like that to others back in narnia when he was rarely approached by anyone who wasn’t one of his siblings, but at least he had the excuse of being a high monarch— what was yours? it was the first time he found himself curious and thinking about something else that wasn’t his former life.

turns out, peter’s chance came to him when he least expected it and when he was in his most vulnerable state: freshly bruised and cut up after a fight with a gang of middle schoolers over stepped-on toes. he’s landed himself in this situation countless of times yet still never learns his lesson to leave it alone before it escalates. fortunately, he got to witness the satisfying conclusion of the leader getting dragged away by his mother, but he was really the one with the egg on his face when he barely managed to get in a single punch while he ended up with a busted lip. to say he was pissed off was an understatement, but frankly, emotions that weren’t anger or longing didn’t come to him much anymore. he didn’t want to get a scolding from his family about he should have been more careful again so he wandered back into the library to take care of himself in his usual corner, unwittingly catching your eye on his way and leading you to him.

neither of you said anything when you walked up to him with a first-aid kit in hand as you used your eyes to ask for permission to patch him up and he simply nodded to grant it, the silence being more tense than awkward. you wrapped bandages around his aching knuckles, applied ointment to his wounds, and uttered nothing but a “hold still” when he hissed in response to the sharp pain of hydrogen peroxide on his lip. he didn’t even feel your skin against his, just feather-light touches that tickled him slightly as he intently looked at you while you were focused. he’s never seen you up close before so he took the opportunity to study your features, slowly realizing that he developed a crush on you at some point and immediately straightening his posture to act like he wasn’t staring when you glanced back at him.

“you’re… the guy who’s always reading about different dimensions, right? your name is... peter?”

“yeah… that’s me.” he's surprised that you knew anything about him at all, much less his name and the books he was reading. considering that you were always in your own little world, it meant that you paid more attention to your surroundings than he originally thought.

“have you visited any other realms lately?” your tone was serious, but the absurdity of the question made it sound like a joke.

“you wouldn’t believe me, it sounds ridiculous.”

“really? i’ve heard all kinds of tales, i doubt it would be even close to the worst one.” you weren’t sure why you were the first to start the conversation when you never cared for your peers or what they had to say before.

“well… it all started when we left for the countryside and my youngest sister wanted to play hide and seek…” he wasn’t sure why he was telling you about the wardrobe and narnia when he refused to open up about it to anyone other than his siblings, but it felt right to do it. at best, you’ll believe him and he’ll have someone to talk to. at worst, a cute girl will think that he’s crazy.

neither of you were quite sure about the reasons behind this conversion, but perhaps there didn’t need to be one as long as it felt like the right thing to do.

request [ I didn't find your requests so I'm writing to you here 😅 I wanted to ask Peter falling in love with a bookworm (they only see each other in the library in the last hallway and she's shy and all that) (in the second movie) in London, as if she were the one capable of removing his anger for a while and Peter felt calm with that little girl. (If you write smut with +18 at the end or just fluffy, whatever you choose) ]

[newyorkthegoldenage]

Edward Hopper, Conference at Night, 1949. Oil on canvas.

Numerous critics and exhibitions have documented the influence of stage sets and popular American cinema upon Hopper’s depictions of the urban scene, often citing this image as a prime example. Film historian Peter Wollen identified Conference at Night as one of many Hopper paintings that look like scenes in movies that one has come in on in mid-screening. The viewer feels that the vignette must have a before and after; it feels like a momentary flash in an on-going mystery. Writer and Hopper’s close friend Brian O’Doherty noted that Conference directly referenced the hallmarks of the era’s popular gangster movies, or film noir, in its lighting, bleak urban setting and hard-faced characters.

This painting is classic Hopper in its theme of voyeuristic glimpses of the city at night and its masterful exposition of such favored compositional devices as an open window, a near-empty room in a utilitarian structure, strongly-directed light from an unseen source, and anonymous figures engaged in some undefined yet intense social exchange to create an arresting psychological drama. Conference at Night furnishes one of the four superb examples of work in the Wichita Art Collection by an artist who is one of the greats of 20th century painting.

Text & photo: Wichita Art Museum

[slautertm]

the knocking upon the door had set to motion a throbbing in her head, a telling sign of just how far gone she is and how totally fucked she is tomorrow but more importantly right now. the very last thing she wants is for grace to see her this fucked up and get a lecture or worse, pete to see and get concerned. the last thing either of them or anyone that would be here needs is another thing to worry - hatchetfield is still on fire even though four of its residence know that everything will now come to an end. for everyone but four, life will go back to normal. stephanie, though, despite years and years of practice in pretending like things are okay in a time of crisis, steph isn’t sure how she’s going to be able to pretend-

she wasn’t ready to pretend either, the not so pleasant buzz of the liquor still in her head, but if it’s pete who is at her front door she's going to have to try and pretend to both be clear of mind and tipsiness. half assly steph had tried to quickly put the lid on the bottle and lowered said bottle to the floor. she digs her nails into the palm of her hand in attempts to sober herself up slightly, or at least to put her in her own mind. there is no denying the wobble in her steps, though, though her mind is barely focused on it despite how her eyes are locking to her feet. she leans on the wall when she comes to a stop, a witty joke, cool, calm on her tongue that is promptly stolen away the minute she hears the name.

that voice... does she know that voice? her head throbs as she tries to piece together the call of her name- the tone, the word- it's her name, she knows it's her name but even as tipsy as she is, she can hear the question of it. if it had been someone else, if it hadn't evoked... something in her, she might have let out the whine that is on the tip of her tongue but steph swallows it down as she instead looks up at the figure, blinking confused though she nods her head in answer, yes. that's her. but who is she and why is she here?

steph's mouth open as though she is trying to say something but nothing comes out but this soft barely audible breath as her mind reels, nails pushing harsher against her skin almost scolding herself for not piecing something that this quiet part of her brain is telling her is so obvious together but every part of her can't so for a moment, she leans more on the wall as she stares and stares waiting for something to bite-

...is that-? no.... no.... there's no way... but all the same, her feet pull her backwards ever so slightly in defense- things don't come back in hatchetfield right.

the girl swallows, her mouth feeling dry and suddenly feeling nauseous as she looks the woman over, partially in confusion, partially in fear, partially in doubt ( though the doubt is directed at steph and steph alone ) feeling all too small and vulnerable but trying to study her in her state all the same. " ...sorry. i thought you were my-" the word is stopped, she wouldn't call grace a friend and she does not know what to call pete. " can i help you? "

the return had been gradual , and then all at once. sensation returning over hours , like she was being rebuilt into a world that didn't quite know what to do with her. and maybe that's exactly what was happening. a rebirth , out from hell. sensations prickled then burned and with a gasp she was suddenly there. she wasn't used to that. being somewhere , though she couldn't remember why. every part of her struggled to become accustomed to being , eyes straining , mind dizzy , and limbs uncertain. weak. more like a newborn faun than a grown woman. it was another couple of hours before she managed to figure out where she was. the shadows growing and changing shape. mountains made small as she realizes their simply stored set pieces. unmoving figures shrouded in darkness turn to mannequins and costume racks. the starlight theater. though the name won't come to her until some time later.

instead , as if through a painful , overstimulated daze , she stumbles around the room. this... basement. tripping over boxes and trunks , arms hitting old risers and fake trees. thoughts are more like instincts , vocabulary stitching itself back into her distracted mind. leave... find... home... stephanie-- the last word , a name comes with it a sense of urgency that not even being trapped in the dark could have. afterall , she came from the dark. she can't remember much , but she knows that. screw the darkness , screw this place , screw the pain. she needs-- she has to find stepha--

mama who bore me

perhaps her auditory functions were the last to come in. or maybe the name is what finally anchored her back to this world , but suddenly she hears the muffled singing. strings vibrating down from the stage above.

mama who gave me

panicked now , overwhelmed by the sudden experience , and even more sudden clench of her heart , sylvia ( yes , that's her name , isn't it ? sylvia. it's been so long. it's been no time at all ) regains control of her legs , hands reaching out towards the wall , palms over dry wall until she feels a doorframe. desperate fingers clutching a doorknob. twisting and pushing until--

mama, the angels

-- the light blinds her. even the weak fluorescent tubes that lined the ceilings knocked the breath out of her. causing a sharp stumble backwards. hands up to her eyes. shielding out the light until it became bearable. inside her head , through the pounding pain and confused panic , there was still the name. stephanie. a distant memory of the five year old girl surfacing. overwhelming even the lights as a wave of nausea passed over and then through the woman.

who made me so sad

there's no way to tell how long it took her to find her way out the back alleyway of the theater. the vibrations of the music fading behind her. the cool michigan night air is like a balm over her feverish skin. time passing in snapshots rather than any form of fluid chronology. at some point , she knows she begins to babble. the words incoherent to her , but there are faces. some familiar , some not. some gentle , some confused , some cruel. she doesn't know how long she's been walking , or how she knows where to go , but eventually , as she approaches a sign for pinebrook , time begins to move more regularly. her tunnel vision expands. and grounded thoughts begin to compete with instinct.

my name is sylvia lauter. maiden name frankel. i was once an engineer. i am looking for my daughter , stephanie. why she's here , she can't remember. this isn't the place that is conjured when she thinks of home. but there's a tug , and for all the things she still can't quite piece together , she is certain this is where she needs to be. coming to a stop at a large , ornate home , for the first time , sylvia hesitates. only for a moment , but there's uncertainty there , still locked within her weak muscles as she summons the courage to knock.

it's uh... unlocked?

the voice isn't familiar , but then again , so much of her mind is clouded. synapses still reconnecting , electricity moving through cobwebbed nerves , as uncertain neurons try to piece together a life that shouldn't be. she follows the implication of the voice , letting herself into the strange home and walking in past the gaudy front door. she walks until she finds the source of the words. a teenage girl who stops her in her tracks. she knows her , but she doesn't. and yet , when she opens her mouth , the name follows-- even as her breath is taken from her lungs.

" -- stephanie ? "

[mariocki]

Shadows of Fear: The Death Watcher (1.4, Thames, 1971)

"I should like to have danced with you first, you know. It may sound frivolous, but I mean it. There's a certain communication involved there. Have you noticed how some couples have a much more highly developed intuition? They dance as one. There is instinctive anticipation. I used to be very good at ballroom dancing. These are my trophies. Once, I reached the county finals with a girl. Her name was Beryl Harcourt. We were completely in sympathy, you see. That's why I made her the subject of my first experiment. After she'd... gone, I used to play the gramophone in my bedroom for hours on end. We used to do a speciality tango. There's a lot of jealousy and backbiting in those competitions, you know."

[punkeropercyjackson]

Lore of Lex de los Santos,my Pjo s/i

As asked by @comfortabletogether !!

Lex's full name is Alexandria and their chinese name is Xiá,they're blasian because i implemented so many asian aspects into their character it felt right

Specifically they're black-greek because Demeter is one of the many black gods and their godly parent and their mortal parent is Emil 'Xiaoyu' de los Santos,a chinese-dominican man who works at a boba shop chain called 'Bubble Buds'

Lex was born and raised in San Francisco but moved to El Barrio,New York in the beginning of Botl due to Emil's job transfering him and grew up taking guitar lessons

Lex is the same age as Percy,with a December 27th birthday,and got to Camp Half-Blood at 12 too.This is one of the many things they have in common:Lex and Percy also have the same sense of humor,poor social skills,merciless tendencies,emotional regulation issues,self-eestem problems,boundless kindness and uncorruptability.The difference is their attitudes-Lex is soft and shy with a hardcore inside,Percy is tough and mean with a soft inside.Their nicknames for eachother are 'Blue' and 'Bubbles'

Lex's powers are ultra chlorokinesis,geokinesis,built-in botany expertesee and eventual terraportation and they're the strongest mortal Demeter kid.They're as strong as Persephone herself

Lex's special interests are boba,dogs,video games,pastel things,kidcore,swords,the sea,nature and anarchy and they love fucking around with their friends and they're also a mom friend,a rollerblader and a guitarist because they took lessons and their colors are pink and green

Lex got to Camp Half-Blood a month before Percy,during The Gym Incident at Marigold Middle School when earlier that day Zach Matthews got rumors to spread about them by provoking them into punching him hard enough for him to bleed and a basilisk attacked at gym class later so Lex's powers activated to kill it on instinct,their eyes closed tightly as they did.They finally realized they have plant powers and Nona Peters,another bully of their's,started shrieking about how it's proof they were a freak all along so blinded by rage,they choked her with their vines until Coach Wilson snapped them out it and she sobbed in apology as they commanded for her to be released but didn't mean it.Teary eyed,Lex dashed to Principal Gonzalez's office to call Emil to pick them up and ask about their powers since they knew he'd know

Emil drove them to Camp Half-Blood as he exposition dumped about the greek mythos world and his past relathionship with Demeter,who did divine intervetion to get them there in just two hours instead of two days,and the first camper Lex met was Katie as they approached her asking for help.Katie guided them to Chiron then to Cabin 4 to meet their siblings:Konrad 'Kon' Henders,Luke's best friend,Billie Ng,a nonbinary grunge kid and Miranda Gardiner,who came in a bit late due to her hatred of demigodhood.Kon did a little joke about his and Lex's names which flashed them back to the gym and he profusely apologized but they refused to touch upon it again.Lex's things were brought to them in a box the next day in the morning by Hermes as Emil had been in such a rush he forgot to pack for them and Lex learned the daily routine of CHB

With an extra for them:Isolation.Lex was ignored by almost everyone at Camp Half-Blood due to their quiet nature and 'off' looks(read:blasian)so they settled into hanging out by themselves in the forest.It hurt them a lot but it wasn't like there was anything they could do and at least they had their siblings.Percy finally arrived once the month passed and they met at the strawberry fields,just the two of them,where he jokingly asked if the strawberries came in blue and Lex responded they could make them blue if he wanted and he was taken back and asked if they really could so they placed their hand on a large bunch and they slowy changed color.He asked what the difference was and they said they weren't sure as they hadn't eaten one before so they eat their first bluestrawberries together,them being mostly the same as regular strawberries except sweeter and juicier,and Percy asked Lex to hang out and spar with him later and they enthutiastically agreed and once he was out of line of sight as they waved goodbye,they squealed and jumped happily as they reached for their hair to stim,only to feel yellow roses in it that had bloomed-Another Demeter kid trait,symbolic flowers that meaned their strongest emotions.Yellow roses mean 'friendship'

Percy and Lex became official sparring partners and after a week of best friendship,Percy asked about everybody's treatment of them to try to help them show everybody how great they are and Lex melted down and a huge wall of flowers appeared inbetween them to seperate them.Percy managed to talk them down after they revealed the Gym Incident and comparing it to his own problems with bullies did the trick and their feelings turned romantic after that convo.During the week,Lex was also sent a celestial bronze heart shaped hairclip transforming sword called Rhodon and they always wear it or as they got older,have it cuffed to their battle jacket,and they got Miranda to chill out by talking things out with her and it's revealed she's just upset at being away from her stepmom and dad and dosen't want to be a half-blood so they help her get along with their siblings and Miranda in thanks shares an Erika and Annalise from Barbie Princess and The Pauper dolls set with them

Post-Tlt Som Lex is a lot happier than the Lex before and Emil notices it and chalks it up to their demigod experiences,which is very true in a way but not entierly.Kon however is the reverse and is majorly depressed because of Luke's betrayal and private reveal of what he was actually like the whole time i.e His grooming of Silena and brewing plans to destroy everything out of his own selfishness.He refuses to say what happened but turns out he didn't need to as Luke puts Percy on blast and Kon blacks out in emotional distress,Lex screaming out his name in terror for him.Earlier that summer,they'd been helping Percy care for Tyson as the only people at camp who liked him(wtf was Rick thinking with having Percy not like Tyson,it makes zero sense??????)and later,they become Thalia's best friend,giving her a tour around camp with Clarisse's help and approaching her at the Zeus Cabin specifically to befriend her out of hating seeing her so dehumanized by the campers into a paragon instead of a teenage girl

Thalia had instantly assumed Lex was a perfect prissy popular girl because of their aesthetic,Lex always dressing in pinks and greens with feminine hairstyles and tween makeup,but after actually talking to them,knew they were just a weird black girly girl so as a weird black trans tomboy,she decided to open up her time to them and they nicknamed eachother 'Thunder' and 'Petal'.Campers were afraid to be mean to Lex now with her and Percy constantly at their side but did ask them invasive questions about her they informed her about and so they stopped.Lex's egg was cracked by Thalia and they'd been going by they/them for years but never thought to research their gender and as it turns out,they're transmasc genderfluid and bigender and they came out to her and Percy as they hung out by the creek and once to him,Emil hit up Demeter to ask Aphrodite to give Lex their ideal voice for the one thing they wanted for a physical transition with the rest staying intact(Lex's original voice was Stephanie Sheh but now it's Nika Futterman for that rocker girl vibe)

Lex stayed over for winter break in TTC and stayed in touch with Percy and Thalia over the phone,the former also true for inbetween Tlt and Som,but all of them were flip phones because 2000s LMAO(Lex's was a Barbie one,Percy's was blue and seathemed and Thalia's was black and all convered in edgy stickers).Kon wasn't able to properly lead Cabin 4 so Katie took over and this summer is when Drew had arrived so the heads of Cabin 4 and Cabin 10 had a flirtatious pretend hate rivalry going on that flew over the heads of most campers but not Lex,who instantly clocked them upon witnessing extended interactions between them pretty easily.Drew latched onto Lex after finding out they're trans like her and Lex offered to be Nico's new big sister after briefly meeting him and growing some lavenders for him and handing them to him as they sweetly asked him to be nice to Percy and he happily agreed to and finding him sobbing his heart out at the kitchen to comfort him.They also made him strawberry milk tea and they chugged several cups together

Him running away and Thalia joining the Hunters broke their heart and they felt like a failure and unloved and had a hard time enjoying their birthday party but did manage to,it being helped by Thalia sneaking in that night to leave them a gift:A bag of stolen junk they'd said they wanted but couldn't afford and a sticky note that says 'I still love you,Lex.Always will but right now,i need to be away from what could give me power.Please understand and i didn't say it to your face because it hurt too much to - Your girl best friend forever,Thalia'.We finally get to the moving to NY part and Lex arrives a month early to the core plot once again,reuniting with Percy and the de los Santos and Jacksons become close as a whole and Lex helps Percy fight and later save the empousi and befriends Rachel instantly and there's a running gag of Lex and Percy talking on their Barbie flip phone and sea flip phone throught the Labyrinth quest and Lex actually lends a hand on it twice as they also and the rest of the camp help Kon put himself back together.Nico asks 'Is that...blue birthday cake?A-And.....Is Lex here?' in the last Botl chapter so Percy tells him to come in and says it looks like the three of them have a lot to talk about and Lex bolts into a now taller than them Nico's arms the second they saw him again and Nico hugs them back just as fiercely,laughing as they pepper his face all over in big sisterly/motherly kisses

Percy,Lex and Rachel attend Goode High together and it's widely know how close they are so they get dubbed 'The Loser Trio' and they reclaim it for themselves as a friendship name.They do charity events,go to riots/protests,on beach trips both for fun and cleaning,to the skatepark,to Bubble Buds,to the arcade,to thrift stores,to underground parties and shows,on petty crime sprees,on platonic study dates,on aquarium visits,have cartoon/movie marathons and do meme challenges.There's always a romantic edge to Perlex's moments together that dosen't exist with Rachel and she's more than happy with that because she's out there having lesbian adventures and ironically enough Annabeth makes the same mistake she did in canon only Lex is the object of Percy's affections and she's oblivious to Perlex out of her own cisheteronormativity and internalized lesbophobia hence why she dosen't bully Lex ever.Rachel is also how they found out about solarpunk although Thalia was Percy and Lex's introduction to punk culture as a whole but Rachel is who got them to GO punk and The Loser Trio is an afrosolarpunk friends trio too

They have a shared instagram account they use both for personal posts and activism and The Loser Summer™️ included Percy posting him piggybacking Lex and them grinning and Lex doing a peace sign and a plain pink heart emoji in the caption,them at Dairy Queen sharing food captioned 'at Dairy Queen with my Dairy King' and even a slideshow of them swapping clothes and hugging.There's even more of all three of them together and Nico gueststars sometimes as him,Percy and Lex spent the year between Botl and Tlo reconnecting and some of their fans even think he's their kid because they didn't reveal their ages for online safety and Rachel posts her girlsaga and girlbossing and girlfailures all around.Zach and Nona reappear,now a couple,at a Goode High and their school Lex refuses to remember the name of vs basketball game and apologize to them and they respond they'll never forgive them but can let them go.Tlo had Lex,Katie,Miranda,Billie,Kon,Drew and a-just-quit-the-Hunters-Thalia working as a team against the Titans Army in Manhattan with Lex as the leader and earning the reputation across Camp Half-Blood as Percy's righthand and equal in strength as they worked together too and they near biblically unleashed their Demeter powers,getting to meet their mom face to face at the end too and were given a gift in the form of Demeter blessing Rhodon as they kissed Lex's forehead,calling them 'The Heroine of Olympus' and Luke had been slayed by Percy briefly beforehand as Percy was the actual hero of the prophecy

Lex is bubbling with happiness until they see Percy and Annabeth are together now and it shatters them for a long while as their insecurities spill over.They pretend to be okay for Percy's and their other loved ones sake but they really aren't and are kinda worse than ever in fact and wilted flowers bloom where they step.They try to appreciate what they do have though and that includes Percy himself,still best friends til the end with him.Post-Tlo but pre-Percy dissaperance,Lex and Kon are sent on a quest by Demeter for Persephone's sake and it's to travel to Greece to retrive their Roots i.e Unlock their powers to their full potential and calm their agitated and hurt minds.The quest is succesful and includes all your usual Percyverse quest beats,the humor,the mythos shout outs,the aesthetics,etc and Persephone starts visiting CHB in the summer thanks to developing real siblinghood with the other eldest child of Demeter and the daughter of Demeter most similar to her and this is it's own solo book titled 'Lex de los Santos and the Persephone Times'.Once Percy is kidnapped by Hera,Lex resorts to an Animal Crossing addiction to distract themself at the same time them and Annabeth take over camp as co-leaders

This is when Lex learns the full details of her and Percy's relathionship and realizes she's abusive to him and is shocked to say the least.They don't tell anyone because Percy should be the first to know and make sure to keep their guard up around her and Tlh comes along so Lex forms friendships with The Lost Trio:Piper(onsight click and Lex helps her embrace butchness and Piper admires Lex's self-confidence),Leo(silly4silly weird4weird latino4latino but platonically and Lex is Leo's hypemanwoman while Leo is super appriciative of Lex)and Jason(had a crush on them that was extremely awkward for everyone involved and Lex didn't have to reject him outright because he got over them as he saw how much they love Percy and moved onto Leo).The Second Great Prophecy said 'Eight Half-Bloods Shall Awnser The Call' and those eight half-bloods are Percy,Lex,Annabeth,Jason,Piper,Leo,Frank and Hazel and Lex hops onto the Argo || without anybody knowing who The Eight are officially.Drew got her redemption-healing arc completed in Tlh and the quest for Buford has Buford running into her and Katie on their first date and Clarisse and Thalia lead CHB while Lex and Annabeth are gonna but follow the praetor route iykwim(they end up together at last since they'd been flirting since TTC)

Percy didn't remember anything except Sally at the beginning of Son but Lex slowly came back to them,once they bit into a strawberry at Camp Jupiter and it didn't taste quiet the same,a sadness she didn't yet understand washing over her.Hazel instantly went to talk to Lex when she spotted them in Moa due to Percy's talks of them and brought her over to Camp Jupiter's cat cafe for coffee and kitty playing and chatting.Once the whole gang borded the Argo || was when Percy and Lex reuinited,at night as Percy took care of the stables and Lex went out looking for her because not getting to talk to her all day and she ran up to them,squeezing them up into a hug and they yelped but hugged back in surprise.'Hey Bubbles!!' 'H-Hey Blue!*Laughs*Together again!' 'And not apart again.Wassup?'so they flopped down onto the hay and caught up.Nobody caught them because they woke up before anybody else and Annabeth got mad at Percy and scolded him for not staying the night with her and almost everyone found it funny except Lex,cringing to themself the whole time in silent panic at what she'd do after.Percy is jealous of Jason's attraction to Lex as a turned tables moment for the Lex and Annabeth situation and his insecurities come how he's darkskin and Jason is lightskin and how Percy's always branded a troublemaker to the point of convincement while Jason's a lifelong golden boy

No Hazel love triangles and Sammy and her didn't know eachother so Lex accompanies them on their Echo quest and thinks 'Super Sized Mcshizzle' is peak comedy and actually gave themself a stomach cramp from holding back their laughter.Percy is determinated to save Nico as there were no useless retcons between them and Lex and Hazel feel the same so the three of them sneak off to save him and they succeed and the four of them are an official certified quartet by the end of Boo with how close they are,them being 'The Outcast Godlings'.Lex gets the chance to tell Percy what's going on between her and Annabeth in the pre-climax of Moa and Percy's first reaction is denial until Lex points out in explicit detail how abusive she is to her and he can't deny any of their questions to any of the non-existent improvement in how she treats her and this also leads to Lex confessing their own feelings on pure accident('You don't have to choose someone you DON'T want to!I'm happy you chose me as your best friend though.......That you chose me,even if it's not how i wanted you too')and Percy is shocked beyond words as her brain switches and connects the dots on her own Lex feelings.Hazel and Lex fall into Tartarus right after though so they don't have time to resolve things just yet

Lex does their best to protect and take care of themself and more importantly Hazel in Tartarus and Hazel is able to unlock her powers to the fullest as The Princess of The Underworld and The Unknown down there.Back on earth,Percy got the Hecate Mist storyline and is stressing out over Lex,over Hazel,over Annabeth,but does her best to lead and the Percabeth breakup comes when Annabeth insults Lex out of jealousy over how important they are to Percy as she realizes they're an actual threat the whole time to their relathionship and Percy is so infuriated she breaks up with her on the spot and stomps away(black and blue demonias gifted to her by Beckendorf pre-death btw).'I'm not letting anybody else tell me what path i should take anymore.I get to choose my own present and my owm future even if it'll never change the past.I was never meant to be restrained and now i know what really means'-Percy Jackson,House of Hades

Hazel and Lex get out of Tartarus and are instantly fussed over by Nico and Percy but also all the other Eight and Reyna except Annabeth,who keeps her distance.Percy and Lex spend Boo as a battle couple who flirt nonstop,subconciously on Lex's end and very intentionally on Percy's end,and after the final fight with Gaea,Lex dyes their bangs forest green as symbolism for their completed self-love arc and it's topped off by Percy asking them out right before lunch time as they sit at a unique table-The Poseidon table but with them,Nico,Hazel,Tyson,Grover,Rachel,Katie,Jason,Leo,Frank,Piper and Clarisse.Everyone can tell his intentions except Lex as they sideeye eachother as they follow him to the forest and they flop down on the grass together to eat the picnic he made and once they finish it all,Percy confesses to Lex and they're too stunned to interrupt him as he turns into a rambling mess of all he loves about them until they snap out of it and flop down on top of him,craddling his face and confessing back just as tenderly so they both grin and he initiates their first as they kiss back.Pink and blue roses bloombed around them

Sally adopted Nico and Hazel and Percy,Lex and Rachel went back to Goode High for their senior year together.A year passes and they manage to graduate but Percy and Lex also decide college isn't for them and Lex and Emil move into La Residencia Jackson due to Sally's eldest son dating Emil's only child and what good friends Emil and Sally already are.Instead of T.oa,we get Tales of Dead Seas aka Tods,a one year later Hoo sequel that's four books and takes place over four years for that og Pjo feel including the return of the chapter titles and has the Outcast Godlings as the mcs and the books are in order called:Elysium on Earth,Petallic,Arcane Rot and Unmythologizable.Nico and Hazel attend a Special ED school,Sally opens up a family bussiness called 'Familia Jackson Beach Shack',Rachel attends college but appears pretty often,Emil is the same as ever but in regular contact with Demeter and Persephone and Lex accidentally cracked Percy's egg as a transfem bigender he/she/they/neos femme and helps her transition.Eoe has it's plot with Percy killing Zeus in a fit of rage and kickstarting a greco-roman mythos world revolution,Petallic focuses on Lex's earthy bringings and self and heritage on both ends,Arcane Rot is central on the Underworld Siblings and exploring them even further,Hazel-Blood is a side bonus book that's a Hazel character study and full on kids horror with an ancient roman coating and Unmythologizable is the grand Percyverse finale and we're told in the future Percy and Lex have a daughter they name after Sally who goes by Sal.The Outcast Godlings' titles are 'Hero and Destroyer of Olympus','Prophecy Breaker','The Ghost King' and 'Princess of The Underworld and The Unknown'

Lex in the official Pjo art!!

Lex in the Pjo picrew!

An outfit Lex has canonically worn /srs

And Lexcore images!!

[snapscube]

So you mentioned the Amazing Spider-man movies, what are your thoughts on them? For me; I was pleasantly surprised by 1 AND 2. Like 2 is bad, real bad, but the jokes were legit, Andrew Garfield and Emma Stone are just...an amazing on screen couple and until the transformation Harry is a really fun villain....just sucks that most of the movie is exposition about peoples relationships to one another or experiments done mostly off screen.

TASM1 is perfectly serviceable as a standalone project and was definitely not the worst jumping off point, but it struggles to really properly understand Spider-Man/Peter as a personality. Peter absolutely doesn't have to be a goody two-shoes loser, all of the best adaptations of Peter imo can have some serious attitude and grit to their persona, but TASM1 kinda over-corrects on the Tobey Maguire "shy nerd" angle by making Spidey a bit too much of a dick. I remember the movie getting a lot of praise for finally making Spider-Man funny and quippy, praise I similarly gave at the time, but it really... doesn't do that nearly as much as ppl gave it credit for??? There's like ONE scene where Spider-Man is kinda jokey with someone he suspects to be Ben's killer, but that scene kinda stinks because he's not quipping as much as he's like actively cruel lmao. Andrew Garfield and Emma Stone had great chemistry though and you can tell Marc Webb knew his stuff when it came to directing that kind of romantic tension, seeing as how his previous project was 500 Days of Summer. All-in-all, it's a Fine movie but it's not a fantastic adaptation of the things I personally like about Spider-Man.

TASM2 is so much more intriguing to me to watch and to talk about. It's genuinely baffling how that movie ended up like it did, but in a way that almost anyone could have predicted. That movie STINKS. It's really really bad. But it also has kind of the opposite problem to TASM1 in that... TASM1 is a good movie that doesn't properly showcase the character of Spider-Man, whereas TASM2 is a garbage movie that features some of the best live action Spider-Man scenes/setpieces we had seen and would ever see to this day. It's sincerely tragic how many great INDIVIDUAL MOMENTS are in that movie, and how loosely connected they are by some monumentally stupid studio meddling. That movie has everything going in its favor with Andrew Garfield in the lead, the best live action Spider-Man suit to this day, the most thrilling and well rendered swinging sequences put to film, and the occasional glimpse of a true Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man that is down on the ground connecting with and watching over not just the city itself but the people within it. There's a montage in the middle of the movie that features Spider-Man on his daily patrol and he comes across as just so PRESENT and on the same level as the people he protects, meanwhile in the audio track you hear newscasters and interviews fiercely debating whether or not what he does is actually worthwhile. And that shit HITS. But unfortunately that kind of stuff is still too rare and it far overshadowed by Sony desperately trying to make a Spidey Cinematic Universe without earning it. Ultimately they had all of the pieces to make a truly definitive adaptation of Spidey that I feel like almost anyone could get behind, but they just... couldn't. Even Spider-Man PS4, commonly lauded as one of the most definitive Spidey stories of all time, uses SO MUCH of the same DNA of the Amazing Spider-Man films, but the difference is that it had the space to be only exactly what it needed to be. Nothing more, nothing less. Anyway I could talk more about this for sure but I'm looking at the length of this write-up and wincing already LOL.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Analysis: Cannery Row (Cultural References)

John Steinbeck’s Cannery Row (1945) opens with the following declaration:

“Cannery Row in Monterey California is a poem, a stink, a grating noise, a quality of light, a tone, a habit, a nostalgia, a dream” (1).

Set in a fictionalized version of Cannery Row in Monterey, California, Steinbeck uses his cast of homeless people, drunks and prostitutes to express profound truths about humanity. 

Abacus (6): A counting device that was used before the creation of calculators.

Belles-lettres (64): A type of literary work, one that is usually expressed in essays, poetry and deals with intellectual subject matter.

Beret (123): A soft hat that has no bill and no brim. Often worn in the military.

Billings, Josh (61): The pen name for Henry Wheeler Shaw, a respected humorist of the 20th century.

Black Marigolds (171): A poem written by E. Powys Mathers.

Bloomer League (140): A baseball league that was comprised primarily of women that started during the early 1900’s.

Carborundum (90): Another name for silicon carbide, which is the sole chemical compound of carbon and silicon.

Chalmers (154): A type of car that was created and sold during the early 1900’s.

Chorea (144): An illness that causes involuntary movement in various parts of the body.

Collier’s (magazine) (139): Founded by Peter Collier, Collier’s Once a Week debuted in 1888 and went on to become one of America’s most popular magazines.

Count Basie (114): A prominent figure during the swing period of jazz, as well as a good example of big band style.

Dadaist (122): An artist or a writer who practiced Dada, a movement that rejected traditional art and contemporary culture.

Daisy Air Rifle (104): A brand of rifle created by the historic Daisy company.

Distemper (134): An infection in dogs that can be diagnosed through symptoms of a runny nose, poor appetite, and coughing.

“Fighting Bob” (111): A reference to Robert M. La Follette Sr. fight against Washington and other politicians who choose to enter WWI.

Ford Model T (61, 106): A truck built by Ford Motor Company.

The Great Depression (16): A result of the 1929 stock market crash, which left many Americans without money or jobs.

Great Fugue (163): A musical work by Beethoven.

Goiter (97): The enlargement of the thyroid gland.

Influenza (89): An infection more commonly known as the “flu.” It was responsible for claiming the lives of millions worldwide before effective vaccines were created to treat and prevent it.

Knights of Columbus (130): A Catholic organization that seeks to aid family members within the organization who are in financial need.

Knights Templar (130): A group of knights who originated in Jerusalem during the year of 1119. Though shrouded in mystery, the Knights Templar are believed to have protected the Holy Grail.

Laudanum (107): A mixture of opium and derivatives of alcohol.

Masonic Lodge (104): A meeting place for Freemasons or former Freemasons.

Mastoids (89): The skull bones that house the ear.

Mastoiditis (90): Mastoiditis occurs when an infection in the middle ear spreads to the mastoids and then causes an infection that produces fevers and headaches.

Monteverdi’s Hor ch’ el Ciel e la Terra (119): A song by the Italian musician Claudio Monteverdi, who lived in the 16th and 17th century.

Novena (88): A prayer that is said over a nine-day period that requests a special favor from God.

“Panama Pacific International Exposition of 1915” (111): The 1915 Worlds Fair that was held in San Francisco, California.

Petrarch (119): A famous writer of the 14th century who is credited with being the founding father of Humanism.

Point Lobos (64): A state reserve on the central coast of California in Monterey County.

Prohibition (72): A move by the United States government to reduce the amount of alcohol consumed in the United States through limiting individuals and businesses who sold alcohol.

Purse Seiners (67): Fishing boats equipped to fish with a purse seine, a kind of fishing net.

“Remember the Maine” (111): The sinking of the U.S.S. Maine, which was the catalyst for the Spanish-American War.

Rimbaud (124): A 19th century French writer who is most remembered for his contribution to the symbolist movement.

Robert Louis Stevenson (61): A Scottish author who is most famous for works such as Treasure Island and The Black Arrow.

Saturnalia (112): The week of December 17th-23rd during which a feast was held by the Romans to celebrate their dedication Saturn’s temple.

Scarlatti (129): Last name of Giuseppe Domenico Scarlatti, an Italian harpsichordist born during the 17th century who later moved to Spain and continued to practice music there.

Sculpin (135): A kind of small fish.

St. Francis (of Assisi) (144): A saint in the Catholic church who is known for his great love for God, animals, and the sick.

Treasure Island (64): A book written by Robert Louis Stevenson.

Vaudeville (109): A form of American variety entertainment that marked the beginning of popular entertainment as a lucrative business.

“White Sale” (103): A sale either of household goods, or when a store drastically reduces their prices for a short period of time.

Source ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References