#why are we more interested in sweeping others' bad feelings under the rug where we don't have to see them than in actually dealing with them

[isfjmel-phleg]

😶

[aingeal98]

so, steph in the canon text choose to carry her pregnancy to term and give her child up for adoption. this is generally understood to be bc the writer of that issue/run was pro life, but taking the text at face value, what does it say that steph chose what she chose? is it coherent with her character? could it be read as another symptom of internalized mysoginy? or is it incoherent with her character/would it be more thematically interesting to have her have an abortion?

Really really good question I've been mulling this over in my head for weeks. To answer the last question first, I honestly think the issue with the pregnancy arc is less about the choices Steph makes and more to do with how clunkily anti abortion Chuck Dixon is. Like I do think it's very possible to be fully pro choice but also unwilling to abort your own pregnancy. I fought alongside my friends to repeal the abortion ban in Ireland but at the same time I can never picture myself ever getting one, because for me the second I become aware of it it's real to me, not just a clump of cells. But I know full well that's just my own sentimentality and there's no scientific backing, like logically it IS just a clump of cells and also there's a whole patriarchal society dedicated to stopping women from having bodily autonomy, which is why I'd never try and push that belief on others or discourage them from whatever choice they feel is best. So basically I would struggle hard to ever do it, but if you want to, hell yeah abort that thang! No judgement from me or moral reasoning needed from you.

And because of this I could see Steph being the same. I could even see certain story beats playing out the same if they were allowed just a bit more nuance instead of being a conservative after school special. Steph lashing out at her mom and counsellor for suggesting an abortion, not because it's a Bad Thing to do but because it feels to her like her mom is already trying to sweep this under the rug like it never happened, and Steph herself hasn't even come to terms with it. Steph feeling isolated from her peers, again highly plausible it just needs better dialogue than what we got in the original. We could even have scenes of Steph grappling with the idea of an abortion, and wondering how much of her aversion to it is her own choice and how much is internalized misogyny. I think her arc of deciding to have the baby and give it up works best, although a well written abortion au would be super interesting to read.

So basically for me the choices Steph makes in the original run are very coherent with her character, and what actually makes it fall flat is the clunky dialogue and heavy handed anti abortion writing. If Steph was written by someone other than Chuck Dixon during that time, I could see her being pro choice while also being unwilling to abort the baby herself. And it could have been written with a lot more nuance and acknowledgement of what teen mothers go through, instead of just what Chuck Dixon thought Good Teen Moms should do and say in this filthy world of liberal values.

From what we got in canon, I'd say Steph probably grew out of the anti abortion mindset as she got older. I don't think she'd ever regret her decision, but I do see her looking back and cringing at some of the ways she acted because wow the internalized misogyny JUMPED out. And if she ever came across another sobbing teenager with a positive pregnancy test, I'd say modern adult Steph would make sure they knew all their options with zero judgement. And helping that young girl would probably dredge up a million different emotions that she would struggle to name.

So tl:dr, taking the text at face value Steph has boatloads of internalized misogyny specifically around abortion. But I don't actually think her choices are out of character, more so that the entire narrative is written less as a story and more as a moralizing conservative rant on pro life where everyone feels like a caricature. It would actually be quite simple to tweak the dialogue and clunky scenes and end up with similar character choices just... better written. Where her mom and counsellors aren't evil for suggesting abortion but Steph still feels hurt and lashes out anyway. Where her peers say the wrong things and leave her feeling alienated. Where she weighs her options and gets more narrative space to mull over all the consequences. It would be my preferred way to rewrite the arc, but there are a lot of changes that could be made and I'm open to reading about all of them.

Thank you for the ask! Sorry it took so long to respond I was chewing over the whole concept haha.

[darcytaylor]

You know, the more I see this play out the more I wonder, was there a stupider reason for the pap walk? Like, does A have some sort of influencer power couple fantasy that she talked L into? Were they hoping to get invited to events as a unit, but miscalculated how disliked A would be? Did he panic about being seen just as Colin, so he felt the need to make a clean break from the show and quickly set up some sort of unrelated narrative for himself? It's all just so bizarre and I feel like we're missing crucial information here to connect all the dots. Honestly I feel like he's a bit naive and a people pleaser, it would make sense if he's doing things to further A's career without being asked or even realizing. L screams anxious-preoccupied attachment style to me. Like, maybe he took on the burden of delivering on her ambitions? There's no doubt in my mind that she'll show up as a dancer on the show next season, they've done nepo hires for small things before.

It was an interesting decision for sure. I obviously do not know who was behind it, or why anybody would have thought it was a good idea. I'm sure Luke and his team aren't happy with the results since it's still being talked about (and not in a good way) over a month after.

There isn't a single positive thing that came from that whole situation. It was bad for Luke's public image, for his career, it was even bad for Antonia (this situation made Luke's fans dislike her even more, and because of this I don't think she has any chance to redeem herself to the public).

I have said before that I think it is possible that Luke had wanted to come forward with his relationship after the New Year video was released. I think that his actions afterward showed signs of this. Maybe Luke was done waiting and wanted it to be officially out.

I have also said that maybe his team thought that since it was the day of the release, people would be happy about that and kind of sweep Luke's private life and actions under the rug. (an no I'm not saying this was a smart move, or one that should have been made, but it's possible)

I do find it weird that Antonia did leave the tagged photos on her social media for days. This screams that she was okay with the situation and wanted people to know, even though it was causing havoc on Luke's life. But maybe it just took them that long to realize the situation was only getting worse, people were not going to be happy and then that's when crisis management became involved.

But at the end of the day we know nothing. We don't have any solid facts other than it was an insane misjudgement, where the consequences are still being played out.

[reflections-in-a-critical-eye]

I find myself questioning why I'm still bothered and how I let it get to me the lack of nuance in fandom discourse. Especially with K-Pop and everything I've witnessed in the last 3 years. The bigger the fandom, the less chances for it to be cohesive and attract a specific demographic able to participate in a certain high level of discourse.

I remember a few years back I was lurking in the Black Sails community here on tumblr. I was usually someone who would read the weekly reviews to tv episodes and that would be enough. In the case of that series, it didn't feel enough because to me, the reviewers were missing or ignoring the complexity of that show. And to my surprise (although it shouldn't), the fandom on tumblr was one of the best I had the chance to observe. There was dedication, yes, but more than that, smart people were writing these amazing essays and analysis worth of getting published in established journals. Well beyond a simple review. They were media literate, which is something that gets lost more and more as time passes.

Of course I don't expect that same thing in a fandom like Army. They can barely be compared. Army is way, way larger. It covers a wide demographic which is good and bad simultaneously. Theoretically, there's a place for everyone, regardless of their identity/background. So in cases like that, people tend to choose their own corner, subsection depending on where they fit and their interest. Perhaps a teenager is more likely to spend time on tiktok making edits and looking at clips, without following each and every type of content out there. Because they don't have to. Fans using weverse are also their own category that exhibit a specific type of mentality. Twitter and tumblr are places that offer the platform for a more discussion-type of engagement, with twitter taking the first place.

So, we find our community and that's supposed to allow fans to live in harmony. I know, funny. It's never like that because we like to peak and invite ourselves in other spaces. And the places can easily become echo chambers. But what is interesting to note is observing what the fandom deems as an echo chamber. A solo stan account or a shipper is an echo chamber, but an account focused on the group as a whole and only their achievements and updates is not. It doesn't matter that the user feigns ignorance when confronted with weird hashtags trending because they had no idea. They curate their experience. It's perfectly valid, but the danger of creating/becoming part of echo chambers happens to all of us, regardless of our type of engagement. The longer we sit comfortably in our corner, talking to people who are of the same opinion as ours, the greater the risk.

Nevertheless, there is still this need of showing one's superiority based on the type of subsection of the fandom we are part of. Which automatically fails because it shows our ignorance and getting to what I wanted to talk about, the incapability of engaging in a nuanced discussion. Of course this is not something that we should expect from everyone. Like I said, we need to know our "audience". I won't go to the weverse/IG pages wanting to talk about Asian fetishization in kpop fandoms. It would be pointless. But we do touch on those types of topics on twitter and tumblr. Which is why I don't find it completely absurd to have expectations.

Shipping within the fandom has once again been under fire today, more than usual. And it showed, as each and every time, that there is simply no bridge, no way of finding a common language, of willingness to have that nuanced conversation without resorting to generalized statements. The result of that usually creates more harm, divides the communities even more and sweeps under the rug the normalization of a specific type of shippers who transform mentions of sexual assault into a weapon to attack and offend. As serious as this is for people who are not online 24/7 in fandoms, it has indeed become the norm for those who are part of it. So then why we ignore it? Why do we generalize it instead of addressing the exact person or community who does it regularly? Because it's the crazy part of the fandom and those who are not part of it consider themselves to be better than others. Feeling superior is the ultimate goal. In a fandom of millions, we all try to differentiate ourselves in one way or another. And that leads to our fandom identity and automatically our position towards issues within the larger community. Being for or against, wanting to engage or not, is sending a message. It's always more about us than the people or content we talk about.

I know I haven't touched on 1% of what this topic should cover, but these are just some thoughts. We can't all be the smartest and better than everyone else when we are completely fixated in some beliefs that come to exist based on how much we want to use our intelectual abilities or simply refuse to.

[grelleswife]

Hi! I wanted to ask your opinion on why you enjoy Kuroshitsuji if it isn’t too much to answer. Recently I have been feeling like I’m being ‘punished’ for enjoying Kuro because I always see people talking bad about it and Yana on twitter. 😅 I am well aware Kuro has a lot of issues but I really enjoy the characters and such but the opinions of people about the series kind of has been hurting me as a fan and thus I have been losing interest🥲 I was hoping I can talk to someone who is a fan of Kuro that can help give me some mindset or something. I have been drawing for Kuro for years so I’m quite passionate towards the series and Yana herself and but this has been bugging me. If you can’t answer this it is totally okay and you can delete this ask❣️

Hi, anon! That’s not too much at all! My apologies for the late response; I wanted to make sure I could sit down to properly get my thoughts in order before answering.

My love for Kuro was originally (and is to this day) rooted in the source material. The manga and anime introduced me to some of my most beloved fictional characters, including Miss Grelle—as attested to by my url! 😉 The story instantly had me hooked with its campy hijinks, tragic undertones, and forays into the dark corners of the human psyche. Even with the current lag in pacing, I’m excited to see where the Phantomfam’s adventures take us next! And, of course, I would be remiss without mentioning the artwork. In a visual medium like manga, aesthetics can make or break your enjoyment of a series, and Kuro’s Victorian steampunk flair is perfectly suited to my tastes, especially with the steady improvement in quality as Yana’s honed her craft over the years.

However, particularly during this dry season of short chapters and plodding plot progression, it’s the community that grew up around Kuro that nourishes my love for it the most. Naysayers condescendingly sneer that the fandom is dead, but the incredible art, funny memes, awesome animations, excellent fics (some of which outshine published novels I’ve read), insightful meta and more that I see across my dash and in the tags suggest otherwise. And when we come together (such as during past fandom weeks or @anewp0tat0 ‘s recent event to celebrate the 200th chapter) that display of talent burns even brighter. As a writer, building up lore in headcanons and fic or reading my mutual’s creative interpretations of Yana’s world is just as fun—if not more so—than engaging with the actual manga. That enrichment alone is enough to keep me invested in the Kuroverse for the foreseeable future.

The series also holds considerable sentimental value for me because it served as the catalyst for my queer awakening and brought friends and loved ones into my life who I would never have met otherwise. Even if the day comes when I put Kuroshitsuji on the shelf in favor of other stories, that positive impact will remain.

However, that doesn’t mean that the series or fandom are perfect. Yana’s sleazy past and irresponsible pandering to the gross side of the fandom are an unpleasant reality with which we must contend, as are the fujoshis, transphobes, and other creeps—some of whom proved to be a genuine danger to minors—who continue to give us a bad name. But those people who blindly label Kuro as wholesale trash and accuse all fans of condoning the problematic content merely betray their simplistic, black-and-white way of thinking. We cannot and should not sweep the objectionable aspects of the series under the rug, but we can interact with Kuro critically—recognizing and calling out the areas in need of improvement while also cherishing the best parts of this cursed butler manga. As long as you’re consuming media responsibly, and in a way that doesn’t actively harm others, then you have no reason to feel guilty. You sure as heck don’t deserve to be punished!

Ignore the haters as best you can, and try to focus on what first ignited your passion for Kuro; don’t let those jerks steal your joy. 😤 Alternatively, if you need to take a break from that onslaught of negativity and just rest for a bit, that’s fine, too! There’s no shame in stepping away to recharge, and you shouldn’t push yourself to participate in fandom if doing so is detrimental to your well-being.

I’m sorry to hear that you’ve been having a tough time over on the bird app, but I hope my answer was helpful and that Kurohell can continue to be a happy, welcoming place for you! 🖤

[riddle-me-ri]

k hear me out we NEED the directors cut for taking care of Jervis through his depression

It has already been a huuuge experiment with his character but maybe theres still smth left to say u know👀👉🏻���🏻

HNNGGG *vibrating with elated joy* IM SO GLAD YOU ASKED ANON when I saw this ask game I was HOPING someone would ask about Love and Suds! Because I HAVE A LOT TO DISCUSS HNNGGG

Because of that there's a read more tab lmao

I'm so sorry I know its a lot but just please bear with me because I HAVE THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS I need to express lol.

So Jervis is incredibly interesting to me lmao.

I've been in and out of the Batman/Rogue fandom going on about six years. I've always wanted to like Jervis (I loved Alice in Wonderland as a child shush I still do plus mind control?? Hell yeah) but given his controversy and everyone just sweeping him under the rug, aside from BTAS and Arkhamverse, I felt like I was slowly getting a grasp on him but never quite got there.

Now fast forward after a year and a half out of the fandom and thwarting myself back in I am here and I've met a couple genuine Jervis fans for like years, fans, shout out to @march-harrigan and @jervis-tetch-my-beloved and when I read their work and thoughts I was like...Okay so it's not just me that thinks this...it was very affirming to see others got the same read on him.

Because I say this with 0 hesitation, Jervis can be a tricky mad lad to write for. I mean extremely (Jon moreso for me lately, stoicism isn't my strong suit but I'm working on it) difficult.

A lot of people have a bad habit of infantilizing him or making him out to be weaker than he is. Yes he's a wee mad lad with a penchant for rhymes, hats, and tea.

But he's also a murderer, kidnapper, manipulator, and a neuroscientist...he's one of the smartest bastards in the room but because he acts playful, and whimsical people misjudge and underestimate him

Also, Jervis has shown the capability of remorse (again varying iterations but he does seem the usual suspect to feel any sort of guilt whenever he's finally lucid) because of that, I felt a compulsion to do something DC writers are fucking terrified to do....actually give a rogue hope. They tried to reform Eddie but that didn't last (mostly cause of his own compulsions that were never properly addressed...poor baby..)

Now I know for many, a lot of these characters are BEYOND redeemable, Jervis included (y'know kidnapping, murder, mind control...yeah) and they're not inherently good people, but some rogues were once before...

And I truly do think if Jervis had a positive consistent in his life that was able to make reality a Wonderland, he wouldn't need the fantasy, he wouldn't need the delusion.

That's where the idea for Love and Suds came from.

I've written for Jervis a couple times before Love and Suds and when I tell you I had to stop myself from literally doing a character deep dive for a smut prompted request...I had to reel back A BUNCH. I would be almost 1k words in and remember oohhh they're supposed to be fucking goddamnit and have to edit the shit out of it.

So I knew I had to do something just to prevent it from happening again. Slowly but surely the plot came to me, but I was hesitant. Again, I didn't want to infantilize him, but I did want the reader to take care of him. Hence why a lot of the time in the story Jervis is scoffing at himself because he's in reality and he's ultra aware of what's going on but like he's also selfish and isn't going to pass up a chance to finally be clean.

Which is something else I hope I made clear was that Jervis was very much in reality during the entirety of the story whilst in his depression...hence why he wasn't rhyming, he wasn't absolutely appalled by the state of his home (scattered saucers, dirty tea cups everyone some broken after being thrown at the wall, hats with broken seams and holes in them, things I didn't really get a chance to describe). I'm sure you've figured that out but just wanted to confirm it.

It's one of those fics I hold near and dear to my heart.

Because one it was one of those fics I had going around in my head that I finally put onto paper and it was exactly how I envisioned it (its only happened with two other stories)

And two... I didn't realize how much it was wanted/needed? I knew since it wasn't a request from anyone it wasn't going to be everyone's fancy...but like the amount of feedback I got exclaiming that this is exactly what they want to see for Jervis? This is how they see him? Like I didn't realize that was something that people were looking for!

As far as if there's anything more to the story...when I tell you I have thought of sequel ideas for Love and Suds I have thought about it immensely...

I have a couple scenarios were Jervis returns the favor to Reader, one where Jervis comes to properly court the reader but overhears a heated argument with Reader defending Jervis to Batman, like the possibilities are ENDLESS but I also don't want to like...ruin it either you know? Too many may spoil it or make it bad?

But yeah...so sorry this is so long lmao if you guys do want more content regarding the set up of Love and Suds let me know! I may still write a couple connected drabbles here and there for a comfort project for myself but it's also good to know if you guys would be into it too! If tumblr could let us all have polls I'd put it in a poll but nooooo

Thanks for reading all of this lmao and thank you for asking anon I am so glad to get this all off my chest lmao

[kyoryu]

do you have any headcanons about sashanne high school breakup? i know it sucks thinking about the canon end timeline but that little mention in your demi anne comic was intriguing 👀

HEH...you know how anne says we can deal with our emotional baggage later and then never do. sorry for more amphibia criticism but the way they handled sashannes second reunion was so shitty and undramatic it pisses me off how they sweep everything under the rug and just make characters be happy and makeup like nothing.

so... heh. they get together i like to think at 15/16 bc they like each other ofc and have been stuck in this cutesy flirty banter ever since commanding together the rebellion, but there is also all these bottled up emotions that they never brought up and it goes like this:

when they get together as teens they like the version of each other they believe they know. sasha likes anne but when anne is now the emotionally distant one she's unfulfilled. sure anne is affectionate and shes great to her but whenever sasha tries to get the convo onto a more serious ground of Hey i Really REALLY Like You anne tends to play stupid and desperately makes her way out of the situation. heh. turns out dying and getting ripped from you the chance of ever being a child again because you know whats after death and specifically after YOUR death, leaving u with a nihilistic view of life where u just smile through it no matter what, isnt good for a highschool relationship with a newly reformed, takes everything seriously and wants to talk about everything, sasha waybright! thank u amphibia writers anne is 1000% okay after all this and she leads a completely normal happy life doesnt she!

and on annes end. she's deep down, waiting for sasha to betray her at one point. its kind of like, anne is not as committed to the rs as sasha is bc anne's emotionally disconnected. she refuses to think of herself and her own feelings which drives her to never face the fact she has trust issues, which in return means she never truly processed everything sasha did in amphibia and how thats deeply changed their relationship forever

and that all blows up in their faces eventually. sasha snaps at anne for acting like theyre still just friends, anne snaps at sasha for acting like nothing ever happened, sasha snaps at anne, SAD, bc how dare u bring that up, not only was it YEARS ago but i apologized and u forgave me, i thought we were pass that, and anne snaps back at sasha surprised and upset with HERSELF because sasha is right, but also this situations making anne think of things she doesnt want to think and its too difficult. and they break up.

and yknow... bonus points for prom. one or two years after breakup. they decide to go together because somehow it feels weird to go with anyone else. by that point theyre barely talking at all so its surprising when sasha approaches anne to ask her but annes like yknow what. wouldnt have it any other way.

so they go to prom together and theyre cutesy and have Moments and dance together and have almost kiss moment and YOU KNOW WHAT. THEY FIGHT AGAIN. for the DAMN SAME STUFF its like a speedrun of that dating period they have but in 1 night and its the prom and god i love these vibes of shitty prom. it also adds, popular hc of marcy wanting to go to prom with sasha and anne so bad but shes away so she cant fulfill this dream. i see ur "marcy travels to la for prom and sashannarcy all go together" and i bring you "sashanne go together and fight, marcy is away and alone, no one gets what they fucking want" why? bc it is more interesting to think about and im tired of making these characters act like nothing fucking happened

amphibia was not just an adventure that is over with. shit happened and it affects them in the long run. anyways. what was the question

[enigmaticxbee]

✖️✖️✖️ 10x04 Home Again

The one where... Scully’s mom dies (and there’s a case with a bandaid nose man art project come to life killing people, whatever)

Best: She never feels more Scully to me in this revival season 10 than when she breaks down in Mulder’s arms over her mom’s death and then looks up at Mulder and frantically tells him I need to work. And the way Mulder looks her… there’s so much history there. I love the bts story that GA was having trouble getting to that emotional place in this scene and asked to have Sheila Larken come to set - she’s been playing Scully’s mom for over 20 years and the emotional resonance of that is why this revival deserves to exist.

Worst: I like the scene in the basement where Scully is thinking about William, about how he came to her, and her responsibility for this person she brought into the world. But that final line of the episode takes the trash metaphor too far. Scully: I want to believe… I need to believe that we didn’t treat him like trash. WTF? It’s so clunky in trying to tie the case and what Scully’s going through together, I hate it.

✔️ Flashlights

❌ Woods/Desert

❌ Slideshow

❌ Autopsy

✔️ Evidence Disappears

❌ Scully Misses It

❌ Mulder Ditch

❌ Sunflower Seeds

❌ Voiceover

✔️ Catch Phrase: Scully (IWTB)

✔️ Scully is a (Medical) Doctor

✔️ Mulder is Spooky

❌ Scuuullllaaaaayy! Muullllderrrr!

✔️ Fox

✔️ Inappropriate Touching (that I am here for)

❌ Casual Scully

❌ Casual Mulder

❌ Trench Coats

❌ Bad Tie Watch

❌ Glasses Watch

✔️ Taking! It! Personally!: Scully

50 States: Pennsylvania x21 & DC x103 (44/50)

Investigate: Together & Apart

Solve Rate: 75%

✔️ Bechdel Test

MSR: 🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝

Goriness: 👽👽👽👽

Creepiness: 👽👽👽

Humor: 👽👽

Rewatch Thoughts:

William check-in: Mrs Scully (to Mulder): My son… is named William, too. This is… oof, it’s a lot. It’s devastating for Scully (and Mulder too I’m sure, although he doesn’t get the chance to really react, he’s being stoic and supportive since Scully’s going through it this episode). I remember being really surprised at how much William stuff we got in the revival, that they didn’t just sweep it all under rug like they have so many other traumatic events they’ve gone through.

Break-up check-in: This episode says to me that Scully may have moved out, but they are still each other’s person. They have over 20 years of history and they are not trying to move on from each other, they’re trying to find a way back, to live with what’s happened to them, and what they’ve done. (Also: love how every other writer has pretty much just ignored the breakup, once again literally nothing would have to change in this episode if they were still together)

This episode was originally slated to be the second episode, which I guess is why we get the pointed FBI IDs out shot - they’re back baybeee. I wonder why they switched up the order, if they thought the audience needed more reminders about the William backstory in Founder’s Mutation first. Emotional arc-wise it would have been strange to go from this to cheerful Scully in Were-Monster.

Mulder remembers all their awful experiences in Philly. Has anything good ever happened to them in PA?

Are we really supposed to believe Scully put Bill in her phone as William Scully Jr? 🧐 Just so we get the name William briefly flashing up on her phone?

What are these weird blurry shots of Scully going down the stairs about? I guess to convey her panicked emotional state but it feels awkward to have just those shots filmed like that.

The elusive Charlie Scully… We learn here that he’s estranged - from their mom and it sounds like from the rest of the family. There’s no indication of why. It’s interesting because in 4x02 Home Scully mentions babysitting her nephew, which must be Charlie’s son because Bill’s first child is born in season 5. So presumably they weren’t estranged at that point, it must have happened later. Unless he’s been estranged from their mom longer (he certainly never showed up to any family events in the series) and maybe Scully lost touch with him when she went on the run.

Scully doesn’t think that her mom’s feelings about life support might have changed after 20 years? Although it is rough that she didn’t talk to Scully about it.

The Downtown scene I’m sure is intentionally an homage to the Wonderful, Wonderful scene in 4x02 Home, and setting violence against an upbeat song is very effective, but not quite as effective as the first time and it feels a little out of place in this episode.

Scully: Back in the day, did… we ever come across the ability to just… wish someone back to life? Mulder: I invented it. When you were in the hospital, like this. Scully: You’re a dark wizard, Mulder. Mulder (laughs): What else is new? This exchange is perfect.

Scully wasn’t in stilettos back in the day though!

Their little smirks as they get out their flashlights… The X of the flashlight beams is an obvious shot but it still works on me.

This isn’t the first time they’ve encountered a murderous trash monster. Does Mulder not remember the trash tulpa from 6x15 Arcadia? Guess he’s learned some things about Tibetan Buddhism since then.

When I first saw this episode Scully calling Mulder Fox in the final scene completely threw me. This is literally the second time in the series, and the first time since the season 1 episode Tooms where he asked her to call him Mulder, that she’s called him Fox. It felt so wrong to me at first, but I’ve come around on it. I can believe that in the 14 years since the series ended, many of which they spent living together as a couple, that that’s something that might change between them. Throughout the series he’s called her Dana in rare, intimate moments. And it highlights how Scully’s trying to connect with him in this moment. But fanfic writers, please use your Foxes judiciously.

Scully: I believe that you will find all of your answers. You will find the answers to the biggest mysteries, and I will be there when you do… But my mysteries… I’ll never have answered. This is so sad, but yeah. Especially if you’re relying on CC to answer those mysteries in any kind of satisfying way.

[liquidstar]

I feel as if many people, myself included, have been having problems with the way “critical thinking” is conducted in fandom circles more and more. Which I’d say is a good thing, because it means we’re thinking critically. But still the issues with the faux-critical mentality and with the way we consume media through that fandom group mentality are incredibly widespread at this point, despite being very flawed, and there are still plenty of people who follow it blindly, ironically.

I sort of felt like I had to examine my personal feelings on it and I ended up writing a whole novel, which I’ll put under the cut, and I do welcome other people’s voices in the matter, because while I’m being as nuanced as I can here I obviously am still writing from personal experience and may overlook some things from my limited perspective. But by and large I think I’ve dissected the phenomena as best I can from what I’ve been seeing going on in fandom circles from a safe but observable distance.

Right off the bat I want to say, I think it's incredibly good and necessary to be critical of media and understand when you should stop consuming it, but that line can be a bit circumstantial sometimes for different people. There are a lot of anime that I used to watch as a teenager that I can’t enjoy anymore, because I got more and more uncomfortable overtime with the sexualization of young characters, partly because as I was getting older I was really starting to realize how big of an issue it was, and I certainly think more critically now than I did when I was 14. Of course I don’t assume everyone who still watches certain series is a pedophile, and I do think there are plenty of fans that understand this. However I still stay away from those circles and that’s a personal choice.

I don’t think a person is morally superior based on where they draw the line and their own boundaries with this type of stuff, what’s more important is your understanding of the problem and response to it. There are series I watch that have a lot of the same issues around sexualization of the young characters in the cast, but they’re relatively toned down and I can still enjoy the aspects of the series I actually like without it feeling as uncomfortable and extreme. Others will not be able to, and their issues with it are legitimate and ones that I still ultimately agree with, but they’re still free to dislike the series for it, after all our stance on the issue itself is the same so why would I resent them for it?

Different people are bound to have different lines they draw for how far certain things can go in media before they’re uncomfortable watching it and it doesn’t make it a moral failing of the person who can put up with more if they’re still capable of understanding why it’s bad to begin with and able to not let it effect them. But I don’t think that sentiment necessarily contradicts the idea that some things really are too far gone for this to apply, the above examples aren’t the same thing as a series centered solely around lolicon ecchi and it doesn’t take a lot of deep analysis to understand why. It’s not about a personal line anymore when it comes to things that are outright propaganda or predatory with harmful ideals woven into the message of the story itself. Critical thinking means knowing the difference between these, and no one can hold your hand through it. And simply slapping “I’m critical of my interests” on your bio isn’t a get out of jail free card, it’s always evident when someone isn’t truly thinking about the impact of the media they consume through the way they consume it.

I think the issue is that when people apply “Critical thinking” they don’t actually analyze the story and its intent, messages, themes, morals, and all that. Instead they approach it completely diegetically, it’s basically the thermian argument, the issue stems from thinking about the story and characters as if they’re real people and judging their actions through that perspective, rather than something from a writer trying to deliver a narrative by using the story and characters as tools. Like how people get upset about characters behaving “problematically” without realizing that it’s an intentional aspect of the story, that the character needs to cause problems for there to be conflict. What they should be looking at instead is what their behavior represents in the real world.

You do not need to apply real-world morals to fictional characters, you need to apply them to the narrative. The story exists in the real world, the characters and events within it do not. Fictional murderers themselves do not hurt anyone, no one is actually dying at their hands, but their actions hold weight in the narrative which itself can harm real people. If the character only murders gay people then it reflects on whatever the themes and messages of the story are, and it’s a major issue if it's framed as if they’re morally justified, or as if this is a noble action. And it’s a huge red flag if people stan this character, even if the story itself actually presents their actions as reprehensible. Or cases where the murderers themselves are some kind of awful stereotype, like Buffalo Bill who presents a violent and dangerous stereotype of trans women, making the character a transmisogynistic caricature (Intentional or otherwise) that has caused a lot of harm to the perception of trans women. When people say “Fiction affects reality” this is what they mean. They do not mean “People will see a pretend bad guy and become bad” they mean “Ideals represented in fiction will be pulled from the real world and reflected back onto it.”

However, stories shouldn’t have to spoon-feed you the lesson as if you’re watching a children’s cartoon, stories often have nuances and you have to actively analyze the themes of it all to understand it’s core messages. Oftentimes it can be intentionally murky and hard to parse especially if the subject matter itself is complicated. But you can’t simply read things on the surface and think you understand everything about them, without understanding the symbolism or subtext you can leave a series like Revolutionary Girl Utena thinking the titular Utena is heterosexual and was only ever in love with her prince. Things won’t always be face-value or clear-cut and you will be forced to come to your own conclusions sometimes too.

That’s why the whole fandom-based groupthink mentality about “critical thinking” doesn’t work, because it’s not critical. It’s simply looking into the crowd, seeing people say a show is problematic, and then dropping it without truly understanding why. It’s performative, consuming the best media isn’t activism and it doesn’t make you a better person. Listening to the voices of people whom the issues directly concerns will help you form an opinion, and to understand the issues from a more knowledgeable perspective beyond your own. All that means nothing if you just sweep it under the rug because you want to look infallible in your morality. That’s not being critical, it’s just being scared to analyze yourself, as well as what you engage with. You just don’t want to think about those things and you’re afraid of being less than perfect so you pretend it never happened.

And though I’m making this post, it’s not mine or anyone else’s job to hold your hand through all this and tell you “Oh this show is okay, but this show isn't, and this book is bad etc etc etc”. Because you actually have to think for yourself, you know, critically. Examples I’ve listed aren’t rules of thumb, they’re just examples and things will vary depending on the story and circumstance. You have to look at shit on a case-by-case basis instead of relying on spotting tropes without thinking about how they’re implemented and what they mean. That’s why it’s analysis, you have to use it to understand what the narrative is communicating to its audience, explicitly or implicitly, intentionally or incidentally, and understand how this reflects the real world and what kind of impact it can have on it. 

A big problem with fandom is it has made interests synonymous with personality traits, as if every series we consume is a core part of our being, and everything we see in it reflects our viewpoints as well. So when people are told that a show they watched is problematic, they react very extremely, because they see it as basically the same thing as saying they themselves are problematic (It’s not). Everyone sees themselves as good people, they don’t want to be bad people, so this scares them and they either start hiding any evidence that they ever liked it, or they double down and start defending it despite all its flaws, often providing those aforementioned thermian arguments (“She dresses that way because of her powers!”).

That’s how you get people who call children’s cartoons “irredeemable media” and people who plaster “fiction=/= reality!” all over their blogs, both are basically trying to save face either by denying that they could ever consume anything problematic or denying that the problematic aspects exist all together. And absolutely no one is actually addressing the core issues anymore, save for those affected by them who pointed them out to begin with, only for their original point to become muffled in the discourse. No one is thinking critically because they’re more concerned with us-vs-them group mentality, both sides try to out-perform the other while the actual issue gets ignored or is used as nothing more than a gacha with no true understanding or sympathy behind it.

One of the other issues that comes from this is the fact that pretty much everyone thinks they’re the only person capable of being critical of their interests. That’s how you get those interactions where one person goes “OK [Media] fan” and another person replies “Bro you literally like [Other Media]”, because both parties think they’re the only ones capable of consuming a problematic piece of media and not becoming problematic themselves, anyone else who enjoys it is clearly incapable of being as big brained as them. It’s understandable because we know ourselves and trust ourselves more than strangers, and I’m not saying there can’t be certain fandoms who’s fans you don’t wanna interact with, but when we presume that we know better than everyone else we stop listening to other people all together. It’s good to trust your own judgement, it’s bad to assume no one else has the capacity to think for themselves either though.

The insistence that all media that you personally like is without moral failing and completely pure comes with the belief that all media that you personally dislike has to be morally bad in some way. As if you can’t just dislike a series because you find it annoying or it just doesn’t appeal to you, it has to be problematic, and you have to justify your dislike of it through that perspective. You have to believe that your view on whatever media it is is the objectively correct one, so you’ll likely pick apart all it’s flaws to prove you’re on the right side, but there’s no analysis of context or intent. Keep in mind this doesn’t necessarily mean those critiques are unfounded or invalid, but in cases like this they’re often skewed in one direction based on personal opinion. It’s just as flawed as ignoring all the faults in the stuff you like, it’s biased and subjective analysis that misses a lot of context in both cases, it’s not a good mindset to have about consuming media. It’s just another result of tying media consumption with identity and personal morals. The faux-critical mentality is an attempt to separate the two in a way that implies they’re a packaged deal to begin with, making it sort of impossible to truly do so in any meaningful way.

As far as I know this whole phenomena started with “Steven Universe Critical” in, like, 2016, and that’s where this mentality around “critical thinking” originated. It started out with just a few people correctly pointing out very legitimate issues with the series, but over time it grew into just a trend where people would make cutesy kin blogs with urls like critical-[character] or [character]crit to go with the fad as it divulged into Nostalgia Critic level critique. Of course there was backlash to this and criticism of the criticism, but no actual conversation to be had. Just people trying to out-do each other by acting as the most virtuous one in the room, and soon enough the fad became a huge echo-chamber that encouraged more and more outrageous takes for every little thing. The series itself was a children’s cartoon so it stands to reason that a lot of the fans were young teens, so this behavior isn’t too surprising and I do believe a lot of them did think they were doing the right thing, especially since it was encouraged. But that doesn’t erase the fact that there were actual real issues and concerns brought up about the series that got treated with very little sympathy and were instead drowning out people’s voices. Though those from a few years back may have grown up since and know better (Hopefully), the mentality stuck around and influenced the norm for how fandoms and fandom people conduct any sort of critique on media. 

That’s a shame to me, because the pedestal people place fandom onto has completely disrupted our perception on how to engage with media in a normal way. Not everything should be consumed with fandom in mind, not everything is a coffee-shop au with no conflict, not everything is a children’s cartoon with the morals spoon-fed to you. Fandom has grown past the years of uncritical praise of a series, it’s much more mainstream now with a lot more voices in it beyond your small community on some forum, and people are allowed to use those voices. Just because it may not be as pleasant for you now because you don’t get to just turn your brain off and ignore all the flaws doesn’t mean you can put on your rose-tinted nostalgia goggles and pretend that fandom is actually all that is good in the world, to the point where you place it above the comfort and safety of others (Oftentimes children). Being uncritical of fandom itself is just as bad as being uncritical of what you consume to begin with. 

At the end of the day it all just boils down to the ability to truly think for yourself but with sympathy and compassion for other people in mind, while also understanding that not everyone will come to the same conclusion as you and people are allowed to resent your interests. That doesn’t necessarily mean they hate you personally, you should be acknowledging the same issues after all. You can’t ignore aspects of it that aren’t convenient to your conclusion, you have to actually be critical and understand the issues to be able to form it. 

I think that all we need is to not rely on fandom to tell us what to do, but still listen to the voices of others, take them into account to form our opinion too, boost their voices instead of drowning them out in the minutiae of internet discourse about which character is too much of an asshole to like. Think about what the characters and story represent non-diegetically instead of treating them like real people and events, rather a story with an intent and message to share through its story and characters, and whatever those reflect from the real world. That’s how fiction affects reality, because it exists in reality and reflects reality through its own lens. The story itself is real, with a real impact on you and many others, so think about the impact and why it all matters. Just… Think. Listen to others but think for yourself, that’s all.

[flourgirl]

Sleepyhead

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Peter will try just about anything to help out the very pretty insomniac from his math class.

Work Count: 11.2k

Warnings: Just some sweet, pure fluff with a few curse words every now and then.

A/N: Either the tags aren’t working for me or you guys just didn’t like it, but the final part of “Even If It’s a Lie” has been out for a few days now if anyone’s interested in reading it 🥺 Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this super long piece I’ve been working on to help me get through finals <3

“Touch you softly I call you up late at night No doubt it isn't right But you could be my one and only” -Softly, Clairo

Peter had seen you around campus a few times, but it wasn’t until you started sitting two rows ahead of him in his linear algebra class that he really started to notice you. 

He thought you were really pretty, and he liked how cozy you always looked in the puffy winter coat you kept on in the perpetually freezing lecture hall. You took a lot of notes, which told him that you cared about the class, and never showed up without a giant cup of iced coffee.

You’re being a creep, Peter told himself. He had thought about switching seats to somewhere in front of you, so he could actually listen to his professor discuss permutations instead of staring at how you chewed on the end of your pen when you were thinking.

It was even worse when you started sleeping in class, your soft hair falling around your shoulders as you leaned your head against your desk. It seemed like all the coffee in the world couldn’t keep you awake, and Peter wondered if he should ask if you wanted to borrow his notes or something. But that would mean him admitting to looking at you way more than he needed to, and that was weird, so he quickly dropped the idea.

Still, he was worried about you. So when he came back from patrol in the middle of the night and bumped into you outside of the dorm kitchen, he figured it would be the perfect opportunity to introduce himself and maybe even find out why you were so tired all the time. 

The only problem was that he had accidentally knocked your pan of banana bread out of your hands, and you were currently staring at it laying on the floor with your sleepy eyes, not saying anything.

“Shit, uh, I’m so sorry,” he told you, crouching down to scoop up the remnants of your late-night snack into the pan. “Were you really up baking at 3 a.m?”

You blushed a little, starstruck that the cute guy from your math class was talking to you. “Um, yeah. I couldn’t sleep, so I figured I’d come down to the kitchen while nobody else was here and make something. Baking always helps me calm down, and so here I am. And here we are. And there’s my bread, all covered in whatever kind of dust the custodians refuse to sweep down here.”

He offered a soft smile, and it made you feel better about the fact that you were rambling way more than you wanted to.

“I’m Y/N,” you continued, gently taking the pan from his hands. “You’re in linear algebra with Professor Meyers, right?”

“Yeah, you, um, you sit right in front of me. Well, not right in front of me. Two rows in front of me. Shit. I’m not creepy, I promise. It’s just… uh… My name is Peter and I’m going to stop talking now.” 

That couldn’t have possibly gone any worse, he thought. You were probably thinking he was a serial killer or something.

“It’s okay. I know you sit behind me,” you reassured him. “You answer a lot of questions.” He was cute and smart, and you hoped he couldn’t notice how flustered you were to be this close to him.

“What are you doing up so late?” he asked, which made you laugh at how ironic his concerns were, considering he was also wandering around the dorm basement at this hour.

“I could ask you the same thing,” you replied, sitting on one of the benches that jutted out of the walls of the corridor. “I mean, you’re here too. At least I was baking. What’s up with you?”

You had a point. “I had an emergency… with my internship. I work for Stark Industries, and Mr. Stark rang me in the middle of the night to come to the lab immediately for something, so, yeah. That’s why I’m awake right now.”

“Okay,” you said, not buying his story. “So that’s why you have a black eye and you’re lurking in the basement hallway? Did Tony Stark punch you?”

Fuck. Did he really have a black eye and not notice? He didn’t think that Doc Oc’s stupid mechanical arm had punched him that hard, but apparently, he was wrong. And now he had to come up with some reason as to where it came from, although he could already tell that you were about to call his bluff.

The only solution he could think of was to change the subject. “Why are you always asleep during class?” he blurted out, causing you to give him a funny look before frowning down at your slippers.

“Isn’t it obvious,” you yawned, stretching your arms out in front of you. “I’m an insomniac. It’s actually kind of funny. I never really had any problems with falling asleep until I moved here. Maybe it’s the cold weather or the constant pressure to get good grades, but I just can’t sleep anymore. It sucks.”

Normally, you’d never tell this much about yourself to somebody, let alone a complete stranger. But somehow, you felt really comfortable around Peter. There was just something about him that made you feel warm and fuzzy inside.

Peter caught himself staring at you again, your baby pink pajamas a far departure from how put together your usual outfits were. Even without your makeup or hair done, you were still the prettiest girl he had ever seen. For some reason, even the dark circles under your eyes were really cute to him.

“You never answered my question,” you reminded him, hoping that he’d say something to fill the awkward silence. “What’s with the black eye and wandering around in the middle of the night? Are you some kind of superhero?”

“What? No! That’s crazy. Me, a superhero,” he laughed awkwardly, wondering if you had somehow figured out his secret identity. Had you spotted him that one time he made sure that you and your friends got home safely from a late-night study session? Even so, you totally couldn’t have known it was him, right?

“Relax, I’m just joking,” you giggled, thinking about how cute he looked when he was flustered. “Although my friend did tell me she thought she saw Spider-Man a few weeks ago on her way back from a party.”

“Haha, yeah,” he breathed out, a wave of relief washing over him. It was times like these that he really started to appreciate how well-hidden his muscles were underneath all of his oversized sweaters.

“Does that hurt?” you asked, bringing your hand up to lightly brush his lip, which was bleeding. He flinched instinctively before settling under your touch, your eyes focused on the small cut. “I have a first aid kit in my room if you want some help cleaning it up.”

“Oh, no, it’s cool. I wouldn’t want to bother your roommate,” Peter told you, scooting further away on the bench, nearly falling off the edge of it. Ned hated it when he stumbled in at some ungodly hour after patrol and woke him up. 

“Don’t worry about it,” you said, standing up and gesturing for him to follow you. “I have a single.”

Peter looked at you in awe. Freshmen never got rooms to themselves, and yet somehow you had one. “Okay, fine. But only because I’ve never actually seen a single in this building before.”

“That’s cool with me,” you smiled, reaching for his hand so he could keep up with your pace. He noticed that you were chewing some of the banana bread, which he really hoped was from the part that didn’t fall on the floor. To be fair though, it did smell really good.

Not only did you have a single, but you lived on the first floor. Peter couldn’t believe how lucky you were, considering the building that the two of you lived in didn’t have any elevators to traverse its seven floors.

He was even more shocked when you opened your door, revealing the coziest dorm room he had ever seen. How on earth did you transform the glorified prison cell into something that felt so... comforting? From the twinkling lights that were wrapped around everything and the soft rug under his feet, Peter found it really hard to believe that you had trouble sleeping here.

“Sorry, it’s a bit messy,” you apologized, piling your many throw pillows and blankets into a basket to clear up some space on your bed. “You can sit here.”

If this was messy, then Peter and Ned’s room needed some serious help. “No worries,” he said, watching as you rummaged around your drawers in search of your first aid kit.

Eventually, you found it hidden under a bunch of graph paper and colored pencils, untouched ever since your overprotective grandparents had helped you move in. “Here we go,” you mused, now looking inside it for alcohol wipes and band-aids.

He winced as you rubbed the little cloth against his lips, and you made sure to be more gentle as you cleaned up the other cuts on his face. Thankfully, nothing was bad enough to require stitches, something you were seriously under-qualified to do.

All Peter could focus on the entire time was how close you were and what it would be like to just kiss you right then and there, but he knew that was way too forward of him. Plus, he didn’t even know if you liked him like that. Surely you were just being nice.

Still, the way he caught you staring into his brown eyes after smoothing a band-aid on his forehead made him think otherwise.

“You’re going to have to tell me eventually who beat you up,” you sighed, gathering up wrappers to throw away and tucking the first aid kit back into its place in your drawers.

“It’s a long story,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding your stare.

“I’ve got time,” you replied, climbing onto your lofted bed to sit next to him, innocently brushing your bare leg against his jeans, which made his breath hitch. “Tell me about it.”

“Uh, how about another time?” he stammered, hopping off the bed and running his hand through his hair. “After class tomorrow, or something. It’s getting pretty late. We should, um, go to sleep.”

“You can stay here if you want,” you offered, his eyes widening at your invitation. “On the bean bag, I mean. It’s actually really comfortable. You mentioned something about bothering your roommate and I figured that maybe you’d like to avoid the trouble tonight.”

“Oh…” Peter hesitated, looking for a reason to say no. He knew he’d never be able to sleep knowing that you were in the same room as him. “I don’t have any pajamas.”

“True,” you agreed, a little disappointed that he wasn’t interested in sticking around.

“I don’t actually even wear pajamas to sleep,” he continued, making you look back up at him instead of playing with the hem of your shirt. “It’s just… I sleep in my boxers.”

“I’m sorry for asking. I didn’t mean to put you in an uncomfortable situation,” you sighed, your face hot with embarrassment.

“It’s not that! I mean, I do want to stay here. But, uh, you… well, you make me really nervous, Y/N,” he muttered, his glance bouncing around the room.

“Why?” you asked, your brows furrowing. “Did I do something?”

“No, no! Nothing at all. I promise, okay?”

“Okay. You can, um, get ready for bed, I guess. I promise not to look,” you assured him, turning on your side to face the wall.

“Thanks. Yeah, alright.” You heard him fumbling with his clothes, his sneakers making a soft thud on your floor. You did your best to resist the urge to glance back at him.

“Can I just use any of these?” he asked, although you had no idea what he was talking about.

“Peter, I’m not looking, remember? You’re going to have to be a little more specific than that.”

“The blankets. Do I just pick one, or are you particular about them?”

“Oh. You can use whichever one you want to. But the coral one’s the softest and my personal favorite.” Peter stared at the basket in confusion. To him, they were all just pink. But based on touch alone, he pulled one out that he figured was a little more orange than the others.

He walked over to the light switch and flipped off the overhead fluorescents, letting the room be illuminated by the warm glow of your fairy lights, which weren’t too bright, but still twinkly and beautiful.

“Goodnight, Peter,” you whispered, snuggling into your comforter in the hopes that your heartbeat would slow down and let you fall asleep for once.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” In a matter of minutes, you could hear his soft snoring, and you figured that it would be okay just to take a quick peek since he’d probably be bundled up in one of your blankets.

His hair was perfectly messy, and he looked so cozy wrapped up in the blanket you had recommended. Still, as much as you could stare at his adorable face all night, you were exhausted. Burying your face under the covers, you did your best to calm your nerves and get some rest before class tomorrow.

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

“Peter,” you whispered, jostling him lightly by the shoulders in the hopes of waking him up. “Uh, we have an hour before class. I was thinking that it would be enough time for you to go shower and change, and then we could go get coffee or something.”

He blinked back up at you, amazed at how well he slept on your bean bag. You had already gotten ready for the day, doing your makeup and picking out one of your many fluffy sweaters to keep you warm in the New York snow.

“Thanks, that sounds awesome,” he yawned, accepting the hand you held out to help him up. The blanket fell, and you stared at each other in shock, having forgotten that Peter was in nothing but his underwear.

You dropped his hand as fast as you could, covering your eyes. “Oh my god! I’m sorry. Shit, I completely forgot, Peter. I’m so sorry. I’ll let you get dressed.”

Peter watched as you stumbled around the room, your eyes squeezed tightly as your hands attempted to guide you away from him.

“Y/N,” he started, catching your attention as you nearly ran into your bed frame. “You can open your eyes. Really, I don’t care if you see me like this if it means I can keep you from breaking your nose.”

You hesitantly opened your eyes, relieved that Peter had already managed to pull his pants back on. Still, he was completely shirtless, and you found yourself staring at the abs you would have never expected to be hiding underneath his clothes.

Moments later, you averted your gaze, although you knew that he probably noticed you looking at where was now covered by his plaid button-down and dark blue sweater.

“I’ll, um, be right back,” he muttered, before practically sprinting out of your room and up the stairs. You groaned in embarrassment, burying your face in a pillow before attempting to take a quick twenty-minute power nap.

Peter couldn’t believe it. Sure, he had thought one time about you seeing him without clothes on, but this wasn’t how he thought it would go at all. Still, the image of you staring at him shirtless, your face flushed, made him feel like he was going to have a heart attack.

“Dude! There you are,” Ned screamed, startled at his roommate’s unexpected entrance. Peter panted, having run up four flights of stairs as fast as he could. “Wait a second. Did you finally get laid? Is this a walk of shame?”

Before Ned could praise him any further, Peter was grabbing a change of clothes and sprinting towards the bathroom. Don’t think about her, he begged himself.

The memory of your leg touching his last night immediately came to mind, and Peter was so angry at himself for being this starved for physical intimacy. To be fair, though, you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, and so he cut himself some slack.

Shit, he told himself, making sure the water was set to cold. He needed to calm down, but instead, his thoughts were stuck on how good you looked in your pajamas, but also how good you would look without them and—fuck it. 

Peter liked you a lot, and if thinking about you like this in private kept him from being a complete weirdo in person, then maybe he just needed to get his feelings of desperation over with.

When he came back down to your room about thirty minutes later, you were still super tired. You trudged your way towards the door, your hair now noticeably messier than earlier, but at least that meant your nap had been a success.

His hair was still damp and this time he was wearing yet another blue sweater, which made you wonder if he ever wore any other color. He had his backpack slung over one of his shoulders and a nervous smile on his face as he locked eyes with you.

“Hey,” he said, pushing some of his hair out of his face. “Are you ready to go?”

You leaned against the doorway a little bit, letting out a yawn that was literally the cutest noise Peter had ever heard in his life. “Yeah, let me get my backpack.”

“It’s so heavy,” you continued, rightfully complaining as the weight of all its contents practically pulled you downwards. “I think it’s so stupid how almost every professor bans computers from class. Like, it’s not fair that I have to lug around three textbooks every day. I don’t have time to run back to my dorm in between classes like some people!”

Peter frowned. Three textbooks were nothing to him, but he knew that you didn’t have spidey-strength and that you were also pretty tiny compared to him. It must’ve been hell on your back to be carrying all that stuff around every day.

“I can carry it for you,” he offered, holding out his hand to switch with you. “Here, you can take my backpack if it’ll make you feel better. I have a lot of programming classes today, so I’ve only got my laptop and a notebook in there.”

You gave him a look of gratitude as he traded bags with you, literally taking the weight off your shoulders. He was right. His backpack was much more manageable for you, even if the dark grey contrasted with the light colors you always wore.

In contrast, it looked kind of odd for him to be walking around with a backpack that was covered in a soft pink floral pattern, much like everything else you owned, but the sight of him carrying your books brought a smile to your face. 

It was one of the sweetest things a guy had ever done for you, and Peter wasn’t even your boyfriend. He probably didn’t even think of you in that way.

“Uh, where do you usually get coffee?” he asked, slowing his pace so you could keep up. He felt bad seeing how tired you were, no doubt due to the lack of sleep you got last night.

“The Starbucks next to Hendrie Hall,” you replied, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. “You?”

“I don’t drink coffee,” he admitted. “I’m actually more of a tea person.”

“Oh,” you hesitated, wondering if it was worth it to walk all the way across campus just for a caramel ribbon crunch frappuccino. “We could go somewhere closer then.”

“It’s okay,” Peter reassured you, grabbing your hand and pulling you along to your destination. “I like walking.”

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

You hadn’t really talked to Peter since that morning before class, but sometimes you would peek behind you and catch him stealing glances at you. Eventually, he had started to feel brave enough to give you a little wave whenever you caught him looking at you. Well, at least the times when you were awake.

One day, not even the loud shuffling and growing chatter of your classmates exiting the lecture hall could wake you up, and Peter figured he better do something before you got chewed out by one of the TAs.

“Y/N?” he said, leaning closer so that you could hopefully hear him. “Y/N. You gotta wake up. Class ended three minutes ago.”

He shook you a little bit, nervously hoping that you wouldn’t mind him touching you. Your eyes fluttered open, and you smiled softly as soon as you realized it was Peter. 

“Oh. Thanks,” you said, standing up to slide your empty notebook into your backpack. Your hand brushed the side of your mouth, making sure you hadn’t drooled onto yourself.

“You can borrow my notes,” he offered, glancing at you sheepishly as you gathered up your coat and fixed your hair. “If you want to.”

“That’d be great,” you sighed, wondering whether you should skip your next class and just go take a nap. At this point, you weren’t even bothering to put on makeup and you basically wore whatever clothes you had that weren’t already sprawled across your room.

“Are you alright?” Peter asked, walking close to you to make sure you didn’t fall over. He knew you were an insomniac, but you looked seriously sleep-deprived today. “Have you been sleeping at all lately?”

“Nope,” you huffed, lugging your perpetually heavy backpack along. “But I’m skipping the rest of my classes today. I’d rather lie that I’m sick through an e-mail than have to explain to my professors why I was sleeping during their classes.”

“Fair enough,” he agreed, stopping you in your tracks to take your backpack from you. “I’ve actually got some time before my next class. I can walk you back to your room and give you my notebook if that’s okay with you.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you told him, reaching to take your bag back from him, although he didn’t let you. 

“Y/N. Come on, you’re exhausted. At least let me carry your stuff, alright?” He had such a kind look in his eyes, and you certainly didn’t have the energy to keep arguing for no reason.

“Okay.” You crossed your arms, the cold air slowly waking you up as the wind hit your face. Your ears were super cold, but you were glad you had pulled your hair into a quick braid to keep it from flying everywhere.

It wasn’t long before you were kicking your boots off in your dorm room, your teeth chattering as you wrapped yourself in a blanket. 

“Do you want some tea?” you asked Peter, inviting him to sit down wherever.

“Sure, but I thought you drank coffee,” he reminded you, watching as you pulled an assortment of tea bags for him to choose from.

“I do,” you said, handing him the box and running to your bathroom to fill up the electric kettle. “But you drink tea.”

Peter’s ears suddenly felt hot. You had gotten tea just for him. Or maybe you were just a really good hostess and kept some around for all of your visitors. Probably the second option, he thought.

“Are you even allowed to have one of those?” he asked as the two of you waited for the water to boil.

“No,” you laughed, sitting next to him on your bed. For someone with so much space to themselves, you really needed to invest in more places to sit. “But you can’t have candles or fairy lights either, so I guess I’m just a rule breaker.”

“Guess I’ll just have to report you to the RA,” Peter teased, getting up to make himself a cup of earl grey. “Do you have any sugar?”

“Top drawer on the right,” you replied. “Do you have a sweet tooth?”

“Yes.” You watched as his lips blew on the tea to cool it down before remembering that it was weird to stare.

“You should let me bake something for you. What’s your favorite dessert?” You were kicking your dangling legs, suddenly feeling a lot more awake than this morning.

“Chocolate cake. With chocolate frosting,” he said in between sips, walking back over to you. With you on the tall bed and him standing, your faces were level with each other.

“I’ll have to make you one to thank you,” you smiled, peering into his eyes. Peter felt your heartbeat quicken, and the grin on your face as you stared at each other made him weak in the knees.

“Can I get those notes?” you asked, making him remember that people don’t just look at each other and say nothing like that.

“Oh! Yeah, definitely.” He quickly set the mug down on your nightstand to rummage through his backpack, flipping one of his notebooks open before handing it to you. “There are the ones from today, but all of the ones I’ve taken this semester are in there too.”

“Wow,” you laughed, making a worried expression form on his face.

“What’s wrong? Are they not good?”

“No, it’s not that. They’re just, uh, very thorough.” He had basically transcribed your professor’s lectures onto the pages. “You must write really fast. But thank you, Peter. I really appreciate it.”

Peter nodded before nervously gulping down the rest of his tea, not even noticing how hot the liquid still was as it nearly burned his throat. 

“I should go now,” he started, looking around the room for his things. “I want you to get some rest, Y/N. Please.”

He had this look in his eyes that was so genuine—so full of care and concern—that it made you want to do whatever he asked you to.

“I’ll try,” you told him, awkwardly rubbing the top of your arm in the hopes that you could actually fall asleep after he left. “Have a nice day, Peter.”

“Bye, Y/N. I’ll stop by later,” he said, already halfway out the door. “For the notes, I mean! Uh, bye. Again. Okay. I’m going to go now.” 

You giggled, giving him one last wave before he left. Like magic, the more you thought about how Peter was worried about you, the easier it was for you to drift off into a peaceful sleep, finally feeling at ease for the first time in weeks.

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

You woke up later that day to Peter knocking on your door, this time standing next to some guy in a brightly colored Hawaiian shirt.

“Hi, Y/N,” Peter greeted you. You looked a lot less tired than when he saw you this morning, which relieved him. “This is my roommate, Ned. He just wanted to know who I’ve been hanging out with, so I hope it’s okay that I brought him here to prove you’re real and not a figment of my imagination.”

Ned leaned closer to you, your hair still a little messy from your nap. “Blink twice if he’s paying you,” he whispered, causing you to giggle. Peter looked on nervously, unsure of what his best friend had just said to you.

“What did you say!?” he asked, lightly pushing Ned on the arm, knowing that it was probably something meant to embarrass him.

“Ow! Okay, now I’m really not telling you,” Ned replied, rubbing the spot where Peter had just hit him.

“Y/N, what did Ned say to you?” He turned to you, a worried look on his face as you and Ned held back your laughter. Peter’s face turned as red as a tomato, making you instantly feel a little bit bad. 

“It was nothing, Peter. Really,” you said, pulling him into the room with you. “It was nice to meet you, Ned. I’ll make sure he’s back before curfew.”

Ned laughed, offering a quick thumbs up and mouthing “I like her” to Peter before you shut the door on him.

“I knew that was a mistake,” Peter sighed, his back against the door. You were still a bit giddy from the exchange, giggling softly as he slowed his breathing.

“You don’t need to be embarrassed around me,” you reassured him. “We’re friends, right?”

“Yeah, of course. It’s just that…”

“What?” You could barely hear him as his voice trailed off.

“Well, uh, not all of my friends are, you know…”

“Spit it out, Peter,” you said, leaning closer so that you could hear him better.

“They’re not as pretty as you,” he muttered, making you blush at his words. Did he really think you were pretty?

“Oh. Thanks,” you smiled, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. Peter lifted his head up, relieved that you didn’t think he was a creep or something.

“Your notebook’s on my desk,” you continued, stepping back a little to give him some space. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as the distance between you and him grew. “I just took a bunch of pictures, so I can look at them on my computer whenever.”

“Alright, awesome,” he said, walking over to collect it before turning back to you. “How’d you sleep?”

“Pretty well, actually. The best I’ve slept in a while. I think you’re some kind of good luck charm.”

“Really?” he asked, a little surprised that he had been helpful.

“Really. You know, I’ve been thinking…”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe it’d be nice if we hung out somewhere that wasn’t my room all the time,” you said, a hopeful look in your eyes. “If you want.”

Peter had never noticed it before, but the two of you really did spend most of your time together in your room. It really was a nice room, but it made sense that you’d want to get out of it every once and a while.

“I’d like that. What did you have in mind?” Play it cool, Parker, he told himself. You can freak out with Ned later.

“How about ice cream on Friday?” you suggested, which came as a bit of a surprise to him.

“In the middle of winter?” As far as Peter could remember, you were always cold.

“Yeah. I really love ice cream,” you added, smiling up at him.

“Okay, then. Ice cream it is,” he agreed. There was absolutely no way he could ever say no to you when you looked at him like that.

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

“May! No, it’s not a date. She’s just a friend. Yeah, I got it. Open the door, pay for her, don’t be an idiot!” Peter sighed into his phone, hoping his aunt’s unwarranted crash course on first dates would be over soon. “Yes, I’m wearing the green sweater. Thanks, love you. Bye!”

“I have no idea who told her I had a date tonight,” he groaned, slumping down onto the couch next to his best friend.

“I texted her,” Ned replied nonchalantly, not even looking away from whatever video game he was playing. “Knew you’d need some kind of pointers. Y/N is way out of your league.”

“Hey!” Was he right? Yes. Did Peter need to be reminded of it right before his not-a-date date with you? Definitely not.

“Come on, you know I’m right. It’s Liz Allan all over again. I have no idea how you keep pulling all of these pretty girls, but hey, credit where credit is due.”

“You’re so mean.”

“I keep it real and you love it. Good luck, man.”

“Bye,” Peter grumbled, slipping on his coat and walking out of their room. Four flights of stairs later, he was at your door.

“Hi!” you squeaked, wrapping your arms around him. This was the first time the two of you had ever hugged and Peter was not going to forget about it anytime soon. “Come in. I have a surprise for you!”

“Here,” you continued, holding out a blue and white beanie for him. “I made it for you. To match all those blue sweaters you wear all the time.” Except this time, he was wearing a forest green one, which brought out the slight hazel tinge in his eyes.

“You made this for me?” he asked, eyeing the different stitches you had used and fiddling with the pom-pom on top. It looked store-bought.

“Well, yeah, silly. I just said that,” you replied, hoping that he liked it. With all the time you didn’t sleep, you were knitting anyway, but this was a special present for him. “Try it on.”

“I didn’t get you anything,” he sighed, pulling the hat onto his head. He looked really cute, the ends of his wavy hair peeking out from underneath the brim.

“Don’t worry about it,” you said, pulling him out of your room and towards the front of the dorm building. “Getting to hang out with you is good enough for me.”

“Where’d you learn how to knit?” Peter questioned, walking alongside you on the snow-lined sidewalks. With how cold it was, and considering he didn’t have a hood on his coat, it seemed like perfect timing that you had given him a hat.

“My grandma taught me,” you shared, taking in the twinkling of the streetlamps and how they bounced against the snow. In New York, that was practically the closest you could get to stargazing. “My, uh, grandparents actually raised me.”

“Oh. I was raised by my aunt and uncle,” Peter confided. It made you feel not so alone to find out that he didn’t grow up with his parents either, even though you knew firsthand just how hard it was.

“Do they live around here?” you asked, stealing glances at him and how rosy his cheeks were in the cold air.

“Yeah, my aunt lives in Queens,” he told you, staring at his feet to both avoid eye contact and make sure neither of you accidentally slipped. Not that he wouldn’t catch you, but he wanted to be safe. “My uncle actually passed away a couple of years ago.”

You stopped walking, immediately feeling a sense of regret. “I’m sorry, Peter. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“It’s okay, Y/N. There was no way for you to have known that,” Peter reassured you, his warm breath coming out in clouds, and he reached for your hand to run his thumb across your knuckles. He gently pulled you along, keeping you from dying of embarrassment in the middle of campus.

“What about you? Are you from around here?” he asked, hoping to break the silence and make you feel a little bit better.

“No, I just moved up here for college. I grew up in Texas but moved to North Carolina when I was 13, so I finished school down there,” you explained, Peter suddenly noticing a slight Southern twang to your voice. “I just really wanted to go to school in a big city and not next to a farm for once in my life.” 

“That makes sense,” he laughed, wondering what it would be like to live somewhere else. “I’ve only ever lived in New York City.”

“Do you like it here?”

“I love it. Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, to be honest.”

“Me either,” you sighed, squeezing his hand tighter as the two of you enjoyed your walk in the snow.

It seemed like forever before you reached the ice cream shop, but you didn’t mind. That just gave you and Peter more time to get to know each other better. Turns out you both competed in academic decathlons, although you were more of a math person and he preferred science.

“Okay, you’re wrong. Night at the Museum 2 is so much better than the first one. I mean that kiss between Ben Stiller and Amy Adams? The Jonas Brothers as little cherub angels? Name one thing from the original that tops that,” you ranted in between spoonfuls of peppermint ice cream.

“I just really like when the little cowboy and gladiator are driving that toy car around,” he reasoned, subtly admitting defeat.

“Don’t even get me started on why the second Shrek movie—”

You were interrupted by the sound of Peter’s phone ringing, and you immediately recognized his ringtone as the Coconut Mall theme from Mario Kart. He peered down at his phone screen, sighing and mouthing an apology to you as he accepted the call.

“Uh, hey, Mr. Stark. Did you need something?” Well, at least you knew he wasn’t lying about his internship at Stark Industries. “Toronto? Tonight? I’m kind of busy.”

There was a long pause as Peter mentally kicked himself for talking back to Tony, resulting in an earful about how being an Avenger should always be at the top of his priorities.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I’ll be right over… but I need a favor. Could you send Happy to pick my friend up? Yeah, it’s the ice cream shop on 1st. Thank you so much, Mr. Stark. Bye.” He frowned at you, and you could tell from what you had heard that he had to go.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. It’s just, something came up last minute and Mr. Stark really needs me to go on this business trip with him,” he apologized, pulling his coat on. “But, uh, he’s sending a car for you. So don’t worry about walking back alone, alright? I’m so sorry. I’ll make it up to you when I get back, okay? Bye!”

“Oh, okay. Bye!” you managed to call out before he was running out the doors and down the street. Lots of customers were staring as you awkwardly gathered your things and went to go wait on the sidewalk.

A few minutes later, a shiny black car had pulled up to the curb in front of you, a man rolling down the window.

“Miss Y/N? I’m Happy Hogan. Mr. Stark sent me to drive you home,” he called from the driver’s seat, before getting out to open your door for you. You stepped in, a little starstruck at how nice the car was. You had never been in anything this expensive before. 

The two of you were sitting in silence until you finally got the courage to speak up. 

“Mr. Hogan,” you started, causing him to turn down the smooth jazz that had been playing on the radio. “Do you know why Peter has to go to Toronto?”

“Yes,” he replied, glancing at you in the rearview mirror. “But I can’t tell you that.”

“Oh, okay,” you accepted, shifting to look out the window at all of the places in the city that you hadn’t yet gotten the chance to explore. 

Eventually, he was dropping you off in front of your dorm, and you were trudging inside to your room to sulk about how your not-a-date date with Peter had gotten interrupted. You stared at your ceiling all night, wondering when the next time you’d see each other would be, and whether or not he’d come back with the same cuts and bruises as when you had first met.

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

Peter had been gone for six days and counting, and you were starting to worry that he might never come back. You had already started missing him the night he left, and now it was just some agonizing waiting game for him to return.

You must have spent hours in the basement kitchen before deciding to visit the fourth floor where Peter lived. You knocked on the door and was quickly met with Ned’s shocked expression.

“Uh, hi, Y/N. Peter’s not here right now. Did you need something?”

“I know,” you acknowledged, holding up the plate in your hand. “It’s just, well, I’ve been baking a lot and I didn’t really know who to give all of these cookies to, so I was wondering if you wanted any.”

“Oh, in that case, sign me up!” You watched as his face lit up as he noticed the assortment of chocolate chip, sugar, and snickerdoodle cookies all still warm from the oven. He offered his hands out to take the plate from you, which you happily relinquished. 

“These are really good,” he complimented, his mouth full of a sugar cookie. “Can I keep the rest of them?”

“Yeah, of course,” you answered, doing your best to smile despite how much you wished it had been Peter opening the door. “I’ll see you around, Ned.”

“Hey, Y/N,” he called out to you, making you turn around on the stairwell. “Don’t worry. I’m sure Peter’s going to be back any day now.” You nodded, offering him a wave and walking back down to your room.

Turns out Ned had been right. The strange noises outside of your window were masked by how loud you were jamming out to We Didn’t Start the Fire by Billy Joel, jumping around and listing off the lyrics that had never made much sense to you. Peter knocked louder on the glass, startling you as you quickly switched off the music to investigate.

“Holy shit,” you whispered, squinting your eyes to make sure you weren’t hallucinating. “Spider-Man? Is that really you?”

You fumbled to push up your window, extremely confused as to why one of the Avengers was outside your bedroom this late at night.

“It’s me, Y/N,” he explained, his voice suddenly becoming extremely familiar. Your eyes widened as you realized who was behind the mask.

“Oh my god! PETER?” you screamed as he slipped through the window, pulling off his mask and clapping a hand over your mouth.

“Don’t freak out. It’s okay. It’s just me, okay?” he stammered in an attempt to get you to calm down before an RA heard. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I really wanted to tell you, but we were in public when I left, and I couldn’t risk it. And I didn’t want to text it or do it over the phone because it’s kind of a big deal, so I figured I’d just come to see you as soon as I got back and Mr. Stark said that you have to promise—”

“It’s okay, Peter,” you interrupted, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face into the very weird material of his spider-suit. “I won’t tell anybody.”

He softened under your touch, resting his head on top of yours. “I like your dance moves,” he whispered, making you glare up at him, your face suddenly very red.

“How long were you watching?” you groaned, dramatically throwing yourself onto your bean bag, your face covered by your hands.

“Only for about a minute,” he answered, pulling your hands down so you could see him grinning at you. “I especially liked how you used your hairbrush as a microphone. Plus, I thought we agreed to stop being embarrassed around each other?”

“Well, that was before I knew you were freaking Spider-Man!”

“Okay, fair enough,” he agreed, nudging you to scoot over and make room for him.

“So, that’s what that whole Toronto thing was?” you asked as he sat next to you, your knee touching his.

“Yep. There was this thing about aliens and these guys that could shapeshift. It’s a lot to explain.”

“Are you going to keep that thing on all night?” you asked, gesturing at his outfit, which was very tight and very distracting from whatever alien story he had to tell.

“Oh. Yeah, I guess so,” he shrugged. “I don’t have anything on underneath it.”

“How scandalous,” you teased. “Not so family-friendly after all, huh, Spidey?”

“Oh, shut up,” he quipped, rolling his eyes as you let out a long yawn.

“Have you been sleeping much?” he continued, suddenly remembering the issue that had brought the two of you together in the first place.

“Of course not. I’ve been too busy worrying about my classes and, oh, just some idiot I know that abandoned me in the middle of an ice cream shop. Pretty sure he said he’d make that up to me, by the way.”

“Okay, okay. Message received. What would you like?” Please say a kiss. Please say a kiss. Please say a—

“Can I meet them? The Avengers, I mean. It’s not like anyone else really has a secret identity except for you.”

“Oh. I mean, I’d have to ask Mr. Stark and the rest of the team and see if they’re cool with it, but I’ll see what I can do.”

“Awesome! You’re the best,” you chimed, wrapping your arms around him and planting a kiss on his cheek.

It was then that Peter decided he would just never be able to wash that side of his face again, his heart nearly skipping a beat.

“Peter,” you said, breaking the silence he had left the two of you in. “I’m tired.”

“Me too,” he sighed. “I should head up to my room. Gotta make sure Ned knows I’m still alive.”

“Yeah, of course,” you agreed, standing up to see him out. “Aren’t you worried somebody will see you, though?”

“Y/N, it’s 4 a.m. I’m pretty sure that you and I are the only people on campus that are awake right now.”

“Oh, right. Still, be careful, okay?” you told him, slightly worried at his secret identity being found out by some college kid that just couldn’t stay off Twitter.

“Will do,” he said, smiling and giving you a little salute before leaving.

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

A few days later, before you could even greet him, Peter was already walking into your room. It was 10 p.m., a little earlier than when he usually came over, but by now you were used to him showing up at your door unannounced.

He was already wearing his pajamas, a t-shirt with a science pun and some flannel pants that he had invested in to avoid any more awkward moments between the two of you. You were dressed in leggings and a sweatshirt, the clothes you usually threw on after class just in case you fell asleep on accident. There had been more times where you had woken up sweaty with your jeans stuck to your legs than you were willing to admit.

“Okay, so I asked Mr. Stark about your request and he told me he doesn’t think now is a good time, but…” he grinned, holding out a giant cardboard box with some kind of minimalist home appliance on the front for you to look at.

“Am I supposed to know what that is?” you blinked back, trying to figure out what the hell you were staring at, considering that all of the text written on it was in a language you didn’t know how to read.

“It’s some fancy white noise machine from Japan. If I remember correctly, Mr. Stark said he made Pepper order it because I wouldn’t shut up about you, and it would be in everybody’s best interest if you got some sleep, so I could stop annoying him and the rest of the team.”

“Oh. That’s pretty thoughtful, I guess,” you said, gathering things off your floor to make space for it.

He set the box down on your rug and got to work opening it. Meanwhile, you were busy translating what exactly Tony Stark had so generously gifted to you.

“Peter, wait. This thing is like $300. Doesn’t he know that you can just look up whale noises on YouTube for free?”

“Yeah, but this one adjusts its volume based on the noises around it, has a light that simulates the sun rising, and has an alarm noise that’s supposed to support healthy cortisol levels.”

Peter peered up to see your arms crossed and brows furrowed, it suddenly becoming clear to him that the things he had just listed meant very little to you.

“Plus, he’s a literal billionaire, so I don’t think it was that big of a loss for him,” he added.

“Fine. Let’s just hope this thing works,” you sighed, watching as Peter leafed through the instruction manual before tossing it behind him. “It’s a little early to go to sleep, though.”

“Y/N, plenty of people go to sleep at 10. Not everybody is nocturnal like you.”

“I guess you have a point,” you agreed, kneeling down beside him as he fiddled with all the settings.

“I know,” he said with a smirk as you rested your chin on his shoulder to get a better look at what he was doing. “What time do you want to wake up? 7 a.m. would give us time to go get breakfast before class, but we could do 8 if you wanted to sleep in.”

“We?” you mused, liking the sound of that. “I guess that means you’re staying here tonight?”

“Well, yeah. I’m not letting you have all these overpriced rainforest noises to yourself.”

“Do 7. We can go get those blueberry muffins that you like,” you decided, standing up to get Peter’s makeshift bed on your bean bag ready. “Do you actually like sleeping on this thing, or were you just trying to be polite the first time I asked?”

“Dude, that thing is awesome. It’s like I’m on this little cuddly cloud, and then you add all those warm blankets and the twinkly lights and it’s the perfect recipe for me to fall asleep.”

“Wow,” you nodded, looking around your room to see all of the things that Peter was talking about. “I wish it worked that way for me.”

“Maybe it will, tonight.”

It didn’t. You were tossing and turning for nearly an hour to the agonizing sounds of birds cawing and the occasional monkey chatter, all set against the backdrop of a heavy thunderstorm. To be honest, it was something that would’ve given you nightmares when you were little.

“Y/N?” Peter whispered from the floor. “Are you sleeping?”

“No.”

“Me neither.”

“Could you turn that thing off? It’s really distracting me.”

“Yeah, of course,” he said, leaning over to switch the noise machine off. “Can I ask you something?”

“You can ask me anything.”

He hesitated, not really sure if he should ask the question that he had been thinking about for a while now. “How old were you when your parents died?”

You had to think for a moment, not really sure about the answer. For as long as you could remember, you just lived with your grandparents. “Um, well my mom left when I was a baby. And I think my dad passed away when I was four.”

“Oh,” Peter mumbled. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have a parent leave you, but he didn’t want to pry just in case it was a sensitive topic. “Are your grandparents from your mom or dad’s side?”

You rolled over to rest your head on the edge of your bed so that you could see him better. He looked so cute bundled up in all of your blankets, his hair already a bit messy. “They’re my mom’s parents. It’s weird. I see a lot of pictures of her from when she was growing up, and I look so much like her, but she’s basically a stranger to me.”

Peter opened his mouth to say something else, but there was a long pause and he decided not to.

“What about you? How old were you when your parents passed away?”

“Five or six. They met while working at the C.I.A. together, but most of my memories are from the stories my aunt and uncle told me when I was growing up.”

For a moment, neither of you could find the right words to say to each other.

“Peter,” you spoke up, interrupting his thoughts. “I’m really glad I met you.”

“I’m really glad I met you too.”

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

Peter’s next plan of action involved even more advice from his fellow Avengers, and you were not looking forward to trying out any of their suggestions. 

“Okay, so, Steve—I mean Captain America—said that when he was little, you know, in the 1940s, all he had to do was drink a glass of warm milk before bed.”

“I’m lactose intolerant,” you groaned, crossing your arms.

“I just saw you eat an entire pint of Ben and Jerry’s in one sitting the other day.”

“Regular milk has almost 15 times more lactose than ice cream. You’d think a science nerd like you would know that.”

“I’m a geek,” he scoffed, clearly a little bit offended. “Not a nerd.”

“Yeah, I can see that now. It’s okay, though. At least you’re pretty,” you said, pinching his cheek.

“Just try it,” he grumbled, handing you the warm glass and waiting impatiently for you to take a sip. If anything, the milk did a better job at keeping you up that night than putting you to sleep. Not even thirty minutes after you had gone to bed, you were feeling sick to your stomach.

“I hate milk,” you gagged, Peter holding your hair back as you kneeled over the toilet bowl. “My grandpa could never get me to drink it as a kid.”

“Is that why you’re so short?” he laughed, helping you up. You glared at him as you moved to the sink to wash the acidic taste out of your mouth.

“Shut up, Parker,” you quipped, tired and grumpy from how terrible you felt. “Let’s just go back to sleep.”

“Alright, munchkin,” he smiled, pulling you out of the bathroom and back towards your bed.

Somehow, the warm milk wasn’t even the worst of Peter’s ideas, because a few days later, he was standing at your door with a bottle of some Asgardian sleep aid from the lightning god himself.

“Are you sure this is safe for me to drink?” you asked, your eyes widening as you stared at the silvery liquid that was almost shimmering.

“Uh, I’m about 87% confident you’ll live,” he said, “But I’m 100% sure that it’ll work.”

“Gee, thanks. Now I really want to drink this weird alien potion,” you sighed, looking at him nervously.

“Just drink a little bit and see if you feel anything,” Peter encouraged, leaning over your shoulder. You nodded, hesitantly bringing the drink up to your lips to take a sip.

“This stuff tastes amazing,” you mused, taking a bigger gulp this time. “Like a blue raspberry slushie.”

“Whoa, that’s enough,” he warned, taking the bottle from your hands before you could drink any more of it. “We don’t want you to go into a coma.”

“I don’t feel anything,” you shrugged, frowning back at him. “Maybe I should—”

You stopped mid-sentence to let out a loud yawn, the potion starting to take effect. Peter caught you as you slumped down in your chair, helping you into bed.

“Okay. I definitely feel it now,” you admitted, already half asleep. Peter tucked you under your blankets, placing a kiss on your forehead as your eyes fluttered shut.

“Sweet dreams, Y/N,” he whispered, turning off your lights and softly closing the door behind him. 

For a moment, Peter had thought he had finally found a solution to your insomnia. At least before you slept through class the next morning. And then the day after that. But it wasn’t until the third day that he really started to freak out.

“Where’s Thor!?” he panted, having run all the way from his class over to the Avengers Tower. Wanda and Vision stared back at him from the kitchen, very confused at what he was so panicked about.

“He’s in his room,” Bucky called from the couch, his mouth full of popcorn as 13 Going on 30 played on the big screen. “What’s going on, kid?”

“No time to explain. Gotta go!” Peter called, sprinting up the stairs towards Thor’s room. He knocked frantically until the door finally swung open.

“Greetings, young Spiderling. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Thor smiled, his long, golden hair shiny as ever.

“I think I killed my almost-girlfriend!” Peter blurted out, practically sweating from how stressed out he was. “She drank that stuff you gave me and she hasn’t woken up in three days now!”

Thor chuckled, patting Peter on the head. “Do not worry, my brother. I’m sure she will wake up given time. It was a very potent drink, after all. Calm yourself.”

“Okay,” he sighed, relieved to know that he hadn’t poisoned you to death. “Cool. Cool, cool, cool. She’s fine. Everything’s fine. Thanks, man. I’ll, uh, I’ll see you around.”

“Farewell, Peter. May we meet again soon,” he grinned before closing the door in Peter’s face.

On the way back down the stairs, Peter figured he’d give you a call and see if you were still sleeping.

“Hello?” you groaned, your throat dry from just waking up. “Peter, what the hell happened to me?”

“THANK GOD YOU’RE ALIVE!” Peter yelled into the phone, making you recoil from the volume of his excitement. “You’ve been asleep for three days, Y/N. I thought you were dead.”

“I am very much alive,” you laughed, slowly feeling the potion wearing off. “Where are you?”

“Uh. I may have run all the way to Midtown to ask Thor if I had killed you,” he admitted, feeling you roll your eyes through the screen. “I was worried, okay?”

“Now you know how I feel whenever you leave for a mission,” you countered, glad that Peter couldn’t see how much you were blushing. “Hurry up and get your butt back over here. I have the weirdest dream to tell you about.”

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

Even if you still weren’t getting a full eight hours of rest at night, it was obvious that all of Peter’s efforts had vastly improved your sleep schedule. Over the past few months, you had gone from staring at your ceiling all night to actually being able to stay asleep for small periods of time.

“Your eyelashes are so long,” you mused, playing with Peter’s hair. He was sitting in between your legs and How the Grinch Stole Christmas was playing on your TV.

“Really?” He tilted his head back to look at you, batting his eyelashes and making you giggle.

“Yes. It’s not fair that boys get all of the pretty eyelashes,” you pouted, watching as the Grinch explained his plan to steal all of Whoville’s presents to his dog.

“I think yours are pretty,” he replied, a soft smile on his face. “But there’s a rogue one just hanging out on your face right now.”

“Can you get it?” you asked, your eyes still glued on the TV screen. Peter nodded, twisting around to gently brush the eyelash from your cheek.

“Do you want to make a wish?” he laughed, holding the little eyelash on the tip of his finger in front of you.

“Okay,” you agreed, squeezing your eyes shut and blowing it away. When you opened them, Peter’s face was only inches away from yours.

“What did you wish for?” His gaze shifted downwards to look at your lips for a split second, before returning to look into your eyes.

“I can’t tell you, dummy. Then it won’t come true.” You weren’t about to tell your best friend that you wished for him to kiss you. At least not now, while the two of you were stuck in this really weird “not dating, but more than just friends” limbo.

“Fine,” he frowned, crossing his arms and pouting in a way that you recognized had been mimicked after you.

“Don’t make fun of me,” you said, mirroring his stance. Your puppy dog eyes were definitely a lot more convincing than his.

“I’m not.”

“Uh-huh, sure. You smell really good, by the way. Well, your hoodie does. I could just wrap myself up in it and fall asleep.”

“How come you’ve never mentioned that before? You could’ve been out cold every night months ago!”

“Guess I was just too distracted by your dreamy face,” you teased, causing Peter to blush.

“Whatever. Seriously, though. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know. I think it took me a while to realize how sleepy I got whenever you were really close to me,” you shrugged. “You’re not mad at me, right?”

“Of course not. But if I had known sooner I would’ve just given you one,” he said, slipping the hoodie over his head and handing it to you. “Here, put it on. You better fall asleep instantly or I’m calling bullshit.”

“You caught me, Peter. This was all some elaborate plan for me to steal one of your hoodies.”

“Just put it on. The suspense is killing me.”

You rolled your eyes and pulled his hoodie on. Just from looking at Peter and how slim he was, you never would have guessed that it would be this oversized on you.

“How do I look?” you asked, striking silly poses in front of him. Peter involuntarily licked his lips and he knew he’d be replaying this image of you in his head for the next few weeks.

“You’re going to have to keep that,” he stammered, doing his best to hide how much he really liked seeing you in his clothes. “It looks a lot better on you. I, um, have to go do my homework. And call my aunt. And walk my roommate.”

Peter stumbled to his feet, staring at his wristwatch to maintain his act that he was late for something before grabbing his things and heading out the door, making sure to hold his backpack in front of him. “Let me know if the hoodie thing works. Bye!”

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

Brushing off Peter’s strangely abrupt departure from last night, you nuzzled into your pillow, the warm morning light spilling through your curtains. Last night had probably been your best sleep in months, and you even got to wake up late since it was Saturday. Things probably couldn’t have gone any better.

Before you knew it, you were running up to Peter’s room and banging on his door. He opened the door on your fourth knock, right after Ned had chucked a pillow at him, and you were met with his sleepy eyes and messy hair.

“It worked!” you yelped in excitement, twirling around and still wearing his hoodie. “Well, kind of. I fell asleep after about an hour, and then I slept for maybe three after that. But I had to pee in the middle of the night, and when I got back into bed I couldn’t fall back asleep until 6 a.m.”

“That’s some good progress,” he yawned, stepping out into the hallway to keep your little celebration from bothering Ned too much. “If only we could get you to sleep the entire night.”

“I know right. But I’m so happy!” you cheered, wrapping your arms around him. “We finally did something right!”

“We need to celebrate!” you continued, grabbing Peter’s hand and dragging him down the stairs. “Come on. We’re making you a chocolate cake!”

You stopped by your room on the way to the kitchen, piling a bunch of ingredients into Peter’s arms from your mini-fridge and various shelves.

“Okay, eggs, flour, butter, sugar, chocolate. Damn it. We’re all out of milk.” You side-eyed him, remembering the whole Captain America induced fiasco from a couple weeks ago. 

“I think we might have some in our room,” Peter laughed. “Ned drinks a lot of milk mixed with Milo powder. It’s some obsession he picked up when his family took a vacation to Australia. I’ll go get it.”

He set all of the ingredients you had given him on your desk and sprinted back up the stairs to raid Ned’s stash, already thinking of ways to apologize for it later.

A few minutes later he was knocking on your door, out of breath, and dressed to brave the many inches of snow that had fallen overnight. 

“We didn’t have any milk,” he panted. “But I can run to the dining hall and get a few cartons.”

“I’ll go with you.” You quickly pulled on your snow boots and layered your puffer coat on top of Peter’s hoodie, wrapping a hand-knit scarf around your neck just to be safe. “All ready.”

Getting the milk was the easy part. Making sure you didn’t die of frostbite was another story. By the time you and Peter got back to your room, your nose was super red and you couldn’t feel your toes.

“Okay,” you said, your teeth chattering. “I thought I was used to the snow by now, but that was something else.” You dropped your coat on the ground and climbed into your bed, burying yourself under your comforter.

“I thought we were making a cake,” he laughed, walking over to see you peeking out of the pile.

“Cake will have to wait,” you whined, your voice slightly muffled by the blanket. “Come here. I need some of your body heat.”

“Okay,” he stuttered, kicking off his sneakers and climbing in beside you. He had sat on your bed a lot since the two of you met, but this was the first time that he was actually laying in it. You snuggled up to him, and he hesitantly wrapped his arms around you.

“This is nice,” you sighed, nuzzling your head into his chest. “Is this one of your superpowers? Spidey-warmth?” Peter let out a soft laugh. It was silly but true. Ever since the bite, he never really noticed how cold it was outside anymore.

“Y/N,” he whispered, tightening his grip around your waist. Your head was nestled underneath his chin, and he could smell the faint citrus scent of your shampoo. “I need to tell you something.”

“What is it, Pete?” you yawned, your eyelids heavy from how comfy Peter’s cuddles were.

“I love you.” He held his breath, nervously waiting for you to respond.

“I know,” you giggled, intertwining your legs. “Sometimes, you talk in your sleep. You’ve probably professed your love for me at least eight times by now.”

“Oh.” Peter had no idea how he was supposed to respond to that.

“Don’t worry. I love you, too,” you assured him, grinning and placing little kisses on his jawline. “I thought that was obvious.”

“Maybe you could make it a little more obvious,” he mumbled, his heartbeat getting quicker as you shifted up to kiss him on the lips, your hand running through his hair.

“I will,” you smiled, your forehead resting against his. “But after we take a nap, okay?”

“Okay,” Peter agreed, snuggling as close as he possibly could to you, never wanting to let go. In no time at all, he watched happily as you fell asleep in his arms, wondering how the two of you hadn’t thought of this sooner.

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

Taglist: @hommyy-tommy @itsgonnabeohtay @alltimekyn @allycat449-blog @greatpizzascissorstaco @dummiesshort @parkerpeterparker2004 @letssee2468 @parkerlovebot @alytavzla @yourbiggestspiderfan @silentium-tais-toi @jailcalledlife @orangesodafoam @obsssedwithjustaboutanything @hufflepuffprincess24 @hollanddolanfangirl @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh @spideydreamers @taciturnspidey @harrisonsoceaneyes

P.S.: Please shoot me an ask or a reply if you’d like to be added to (or removed from) the taglist!

[halliewriteshockey]

Hello! What about answering questions to kill time? If you're up to it, I'd love to hear about your favourite NHL teams, why you love them, how you came to support them... Same with most disliked NHL teams, why you don't like them, how you came to that opinion. Keep in mind that I'm not American, and I live in a country where we don't even have a hockey league. I had to ask Americans to explain why Fox News was metaphor for bad and bigoted, so... I hope you feel better soon!!

Oh, bless. You're my favorite don't tell the others (I'm bleeding again so I have to stay in bed longer and oh my god I'm so bored)

So for one thing, while I have a fair few teams I casually root for, my ride or die team tends to be whoever has my favorite players on it. Which is why I went to a Golden Knights game last year, and as soon as Flower was traded away, I stopped being a Knights fan. (Also because they did him really dirty and I can't forgive them) That's also why I'm getting into the Wild this year. Never really paid attention to them before, but Flower's there and he looks happy again, so call me a Wild fan now!

But ride or die right now is the Rangers, because of Chris and Mika, but I've ended up adopting almost everyone else on the team as well. Igor Shesterkin, Artemi Panarin, Filip Chytil, Braden Schneider, Barclay Goodrow, Key and Laffy - there are just so many players on the team that I genuinely love and want to succeed.

If Chris and/or Mika got traded, I would follow them to (almost) any team they went to, but luckily I don't have to worry about that for awhile because they're both locked in for at least five more years, I believe.

In order of other teams I'm currently rooting for in the playoffs, it would have to be the Panthers mostly for the underdog narrative (and Spencer Knight) and the Avalanche (still and forever angry about what they did to Tyson but I adore Darcy Kuemper and a few others). I also like the Canes, although they've tarnished their vibes by acquiring deAngelo and Domi. Still, Antti Raanta's arc this year has been truly wonderful and I want nothing but good things for him.

Team I hate - the Blackhawks, for many, many reasons. Google Kyle Beach (tw for sexual assault, please be careful). Also they're racist and have a long history of extremely toxic culture/sweeping concerns under the rug.

Teams I casually dislike - the Bolts (oh my god I'm so tired of them can they please go away), the Bruins (no particular reason, I simply do not vibe with them [CAVEAT: I would die for Swayman and Ullmark]), and the Blues (mostly because I despise Binnington. With Husso in net, we've watched a fair number of games this year).

Everyone else I'm pretty neutral on, tbh. I like the Kraken but haven't made a connection with any particular player on the team so I'm not ride or die for them despite living 30 minutes from Seattle.

This entire thing is literally just me rambling, so thank you for giving me the opportunity to do so! I hope it was interesting or at least not deadly boring to you, and seriously, it made me warm and fuzzy that you asked!! ❤️

[janeaustentextposts]

Genuinely interested: how do you balance your enjoyment of Austen with critical assessment of her? I'm kind of burned out from "all your faves are problematic" in a really tough time when I just want my comfort books and movies :(

Critical assessment is honestly part of the enjoyment I get from engaging with the text and adaptations, personally. If you’re burned out you probably could benefit from taking a step away from social media/tumblr/reddit or wherever these discussions are going on to give yourself a break.

On the other hand, it’s very easy to witness the way marginalized voices get shut down and shut out of discussions in fandom, especially in Austen, under the banner of ‘keep things tidy and ‘drama’-free’, which can let really insidious things go unchallenged and unchecked in those spaces, which in turn makes marginalized audiences feel unwelcome in those spaces, and then they’re the ones making the choice to leave the spaces to give themselves a break. (Also it can be extremely insulting for people’s genuine issues to be dismissed as ‘drama’ or shit-stirring that serves no purpose, which happens a lot in Austen communities, unfortunately.)

So I suppose we should all really be asking ourselves what the true cost is of keeping things Sweet and Civil when so often that’s code for ‘don’t challenge the broader presumptions that are excluding people and upholding problematic patterns’.

You don’t have to confront the questions and engage with them constantly if you don’t want to or don’t have the energy; there are plenty of sanitized spaces out there that aren’t asking anyone to take a second look at what they’re reading or watching. People are still doing joyous read-alongs and watch-alongs where they can kick back with some snacks. There’s also a lot of media studies that address the idea circulating that it’s “wrong to like stuff now” and that’s honestly not what most people are actually saying, in my experience. It’s more about being able to articulate why we respond to media the way we do, and examine where our responses are coming from and if it’s fair or healthy, and where everything fits into the broader contexts of our culture(s). Which I think is kind of fascinating!

It’s not hurting anybody to like Austen and find joy in it. What is hurting people is insisting that there’s nothing in there that could ever hurt anybody, and dismissive responses to complicated and painful problems within history and the fandom. We’re past the point of sweeping things under the rug and ignoring them, because that is barring so many people from feeling welcome and comfortable in discussing Austen and enjoying it, themselves.

It’s cool if you need a break for your own emotional health, and I couldn’t call you a bad person for liking Austen because then I’d have to call myself a bad person for liking Austen. But please be careful that you’re not wanting other people to hush their voices because it might be harshing your buzz to hear what they have to say--that’s a sign that you need to remove yourself from the space where that discussion is happening and wait until you feel comfortable going back, or find another space.

So for me, the unfettered joy of absorbing Austen is the jam, and the criticism is the peanut butter--two great tastes that taste great together.

In terms of fandom, we all need to choose where we want to sit and chat and be honest as to why we choose to sit there. The books and adaptations are out there and they’re never going to change--only how we perceive them will.

[smolstarthief]

Persona 5/Persona 5 Strikers: Pro-Police or Anti-Police?

Hoo boy... So this honestly has been a LONG time coming on my end because I have seen so much of that debate on social media (Twitter namely) and I can see the points of BOTH sides but there have been moments where it just got out of hand... Especially whenever people tried to put in a more grey/nuanced take only to be slammed and taken out of context. Even repeatedly mentioning the interrogation at the beginning of P5 which, I will admit has gotten tiresome. At least for me, I do still feel for Joker and I wished the game acknowledged his trauma more but there's a thing called, "beating a dead horse" and this is one along with "Haru says ACAB" in Strikers (which was done THREE TIMES in the same arc and it got annoying fast, like shut up already! We get it!). So, let's dive in a little bit:

MAJOR SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT!!!

Persona 5/Persona 5 Royal

Now let me just say I know! Police in Japan are just as bad if not worse than the West and I STILL hate the idea of Makoto wanting to become a cop for such naive reasons (especially with what happened to Sae, her own sister!)... But there are at least some of form of nuances sometimes and by that I mean, I can see what they were trying to do? I do agree that P5/P5S backpedaled SEVERELY by deciding to sweep issues under the rug after addressing them and not continuing from such. In fact I feel like it could have been a hell of a lot better. But P5 did something different compared to previous games and addresses the issues DIRECTLY right at the beginning of said game! It was tense and horrifying, but needed. Of course... They then sweep it under the rug and act like nothing traumatic happened to our protag which is NOT a good look at all and I'm still pissed off about it. In the main game's case, it's portrayed as more black and white with only a SMALL amount of nuance like that cop that was trying to help Futaba when she went out by herself and got lost (which people ignore entirely by the way). So I CAN see where people got the "anti-police" message from... But that's only the tip of the iceberg as it's ACTUALLY more about Systematic Corruption, not exactly or JUST police corruption. Namely in politics with Shido and the Conspiracy (which is apparently still somewhat around in Strikers until Owada's downfall) controlling everything all the way to law enforcement. The force had been basically under his payroll (including the corrupt SIU Director before his death) whether by force or not (mostly not in this case though). Now honestly, the police depicted there are undoubtedly rotten to the core save for a VERY SMALL handful (the cop that was trying to help Futaba which, again, gets ignored by several). Look at the interrogators who ruthlessly beat and drug a minor without any second thought or remorse for example. But again, the black and white narrative the game kept unwittingly doing ended up being to its detriment in a way. I'm not defending those assholes AT ALL! They deserved every punishment given to them! But for a game that goes on about grey morality... It doesn't quite deliver on that. Still though, it does emphasize that it's more of the fault of the whole corrupt system, not just one part of it. There needs to be change and reform which is what our MCs were trying to do in a way (more like inspiring change but still). In the end, it's all about the following:

Corruption and abuse of power.

Again the police depicted in this game were incompetent at best, corrupt at worse with very few silver linings. But it's not just them but rather the one person responsible for the whole mess. Who had them under his payroll? Who controlled them and by extension all of Tokyo? Who was willing to dispose of anyone who "outlives their usefulness" or is perceived as a threat to what he wants (including his own family)?

SHIDO AND BY EXTENSION THE CONSPIRACY

Bottom line: They are definitely a problem but it's not just them.

"But, Joker and his trauma?"

I definitely understand that and still do. I fully believe he has and still has trauma with the police. Easy! But... I do feel like people go too far with it sometimes. It's hard to explain but there have been moments where people either use it as a justification/argument against someone trying to provide a more nuanced view of things or... Dare I say, depict him like a "uwu soft traumatized boi." Like I said, it's hard to explain on my end so feel free to ignore it. Everyone deals with trauma differently so there is STRONG chance that I'm overanalyzing it. I just remember moments where I just feel a little, I guess annoyed? I'm not sure exactly but final thing: I understand what he went through and I can't imagine how long it would take to recover but I hope he DOES overcome it.

"Sae? Akechi?"

Yep, even though their jobs are different, they are by and large members of law enforcement no matter how you spin it. Both were broken in a way. Akechi is pretty easy to explain with how Shido negatively impacted his life but not much about Sae, who dealt with sexism/misogyny at her workplace along with the trauma of her father's (also a cop) death. She no doubt had some idealism only to be hit with the fact that she's gonna have to use underhanded/downright illegal tactics to get by and even rise up the ranks. She, therefore ended up (well, nearly) corrupted herself before coming to her senses. That's honestly one of the BIGGEST REASONS why I felt like Makoto joining the force to become a police commissioner isn't a good, even a downright naïve, idea. I honestly would have been somewhat fine with it if it weren't for that fact among other things. Regardless of her willpower, it will go south fast.

Now... Onto Strikers!

Persona 5 Strikers

Since the game came out and I started playing it, I still feel like the system is still beyond saving, especially when attempting to do it from the inside. But I don't mind the added nuances that P5 didn't do much of. It's still continuing the critiques, just shows more of what does happen within said system and even has an ACTUAL officer (Zenkichi) say, "Yeah, my job sucks, everyone's corrupt, there are much better ways to do things and make a change but not this. I'm only staying because I have a daughter to take care of and it's all I know. I'm no different from them." Was it all handled well? I wouldn't say "yes" (Joker's trauma is BARELY addressed at all of course) but a little better than what P5's narrative did which only addressed the issues but not exactly follow up on them. Now to be fair... In the system, regardless of where you live, any one within it who remotely tries to do something or speak against it either lose their jobs or even go "missing" irl. Those have happened and it's more proof that yeah, it's rotten to the core. There's no denying it but regardless, that's NOT what the game is about at all. At least that's what I feel about it as it's only PART of the narrative. I think Zenkichi puts it best here:

Speaking of Zenkichi... Oh boy... Now I definitely understand some of the criticisms with him but honestly, he was the best written (PT) character I've ever encountered! He was honestly the perfect representation of those that genuinely want to help and do good, only to be held back by an extremely harsh reality. It was already hinted at with Sae but here? It 100 percent confirms just how harsh and even cutthroat it can be if it could break someone's idealism so badly. Even Kaburagi of all people thinks the same thing Zenkichi said:

Then there's his past and it's a tragic one! But let's look more at the decisions he ended up making:

While it was no doubt done to protect his daughter, he ended making a selfish decision along with a selfless one (which was brilliant!) with not only allowing the cover up of his wife's death and denying justice for her, but also ruining an innocent person and their family's lives.

It's horrible, but also... There's a grey area/nuance as with the rest of his character. It was both understandable, but also wrong as he, as Akane's Shadow puts it:

He sacrificed his values, his morals, all for the sake of having a peace of mind. Speaking of Akane, she's also an interesting case in a way that she more or less perfectly represents the more "black and white" views on justice in general. Namely the more toxic/biased kind. Her reasons are also understandable but she was also acting selfishly by only focusing on how SHE was effected by Aoi's death and not even considering those that were also grieving her death and/or that people grieve/handle grief differently than her. But back on topic.

Her own views and beliefs that law enforcement basically SHOULD be dismantled (mostly out of said childish bias and black & white views) and it's framed as WRONG and it's very much correct on that. Chaos and order are two sides of the same coin, one can't exist without the other. When I say ACAB, I'm calling for reform, defund, have the corrupt held accountable for EVERYTHING and even face jail time for their crimes! Defund the police, have the ones that arrest, harm, and even murder out of bias (race, gender, etc.), lose their badges/jobs and locked up, make improvements! It's saying that there IS still corruption out there and there's no denying it. But fully eliminating the law in general will just lead to more problems. Now granted, she's young and clearly doesn't fully understand why those views are ultimately wrong but still... It was a very interesting subject to tackle and I feel like they handled it well.

Now back to Zenkichi, he was at first in denial about his decisions ultimately being the wrong ones too and even tries to justify it. Of course, his Shadow said otherwise and that was when he finally admitted that he really did act no different from the criminals he despised. But it also doesn't mean he can't redeem himself and that's what ultimately leads to his new resolve:

That right there along with everything else! There's the nuance! And ultimately despite some hiccups, Strikers handled the grey morality and nuance beautifully! Especially regarding law enforcement! Dare I say, even better than the base game! It continues the critiques with no problem but also showing different sides and areas of it! There is good and evil, but what about in-between? What about the more greyer area? It still says that there IS corruption, sometimes even beyond saving but... Sometimes a small silver lining is hidden somewhere.

Now, the ultimate question:

Is P5 & P5S (namely the latter) Pro-Police or Anti-Police?

Personally, my answer is this: Neither.

Why? What theme do they both have in common?

JUSTICE

Someone puts it best on Twitter that the games are more pro-justice and I fully agree!

P5/P5S gives the idea about following your OWN justice, your OWN moral code and rules, paving your OWN path and not let others dictate it! That's what the MCs ultimately start to learn in both games. Therefore it's pro-justice. Again, do I agree that the system is beyond saving? Yeah. Do I at least acknowledge and understand what the narratives are trying to say and nuances regardless even if I don't agree with some writing decisions (ex: Makoto wanting to become a commissioner despite everything)? Also yes. But at the same time, don't judge a book by its cover for other people (not just law enforcement and politics mind you). Especially some that genuinely DO want to help at best. That there is nuance and greyness, just have to look closely. Some of the MCs are still TERRIBLY written and executed (even annoying) but the message was still somewhat there.

Final Thoughts

Now I fully understand how you all feel of course! I still believe in ACAB and even I agree that maybe I'm one to talk and have a lot more to learn about the world... This is just my own attempt at putting my own two cents in. If you disagree, that's fine! This is just what I've felt should be at least talked about more often. And I tried to phrase it as best as I can without coming off as insensitive or ignorant and if I did, I sincerely apologize for that! I'm not trying to say, come off as a "bootlicker" or any of the sort. I'm just trying show discuss more of the grey areas and nuances that are, more often than not, constantly overlooked. How one interprets both games is ultimately up to them. You, the player. And this is my own interpretation. Simple as that. I hope you all have a good day/afternoon/evening!

[vidalinav]

Empathetic Nesta

I have a headcanon/theory/analysis that Nesta is the most empathetic, genuine, and loving one of the IC/not IC and that that part of her starts really being more accessible when she’s able to let her guard down. She’s the one who feels so much, who’s gone through so much, and wasn’t able to process that really well and then wasn’t really validated on behalf of her own trauma.

I kind of envision her being better at helping people through more difficult times, because well look she gave Elain what she needed during her own hard time, a safe space to heal unencumbered by other people’s wants, wishes, or ideals that again is not attributed to her fairly as being generally kind and loving. 

Part of the reason, I feel, that this “sisterhood” with Emerie and Gwyn feels so genuine, is because all of them are very open about having an ugly past, but there is no judgement, no ill will. It’s a safe place for them, but she was the one who started this. She was the one who offered this to the priestesses. She was the one who sent those spices to Emerie, because “Emerie needs good spices” but also because she understood that training might be helpful for her too, because they were similar in some sense. An unspoken understanding. I feel even Cassian has a more genuine personality around Nesta than he does even with the IC. He was allowed to step out of that role of being just the general, just the comic relief. He was able to be vulnerable. I’d say that even him saying horrible things to Nesta, is a way in which he is allowed to be an ugly, flawed person, because you notice he doesn’t do that with anyone else. Also, we have to keep in mind that Cassian in most all books, has been described as having that irritating smirk, not being serious, but in this book he can’t hide his emotions. They’re plastered on his face for everyone to see, which I think is very interesting that it’s attributed to Cassian always being genuine and an open book, when in ACOMAF-ACOFAS, he seemed to be not that open. He swiped that hand away after that intimate moment, he ran to his room after the whole gift thing, he wouldn’t talk about Nesta and no one talked to him about her, he tended to dismiss Feyre when she brought her up, but we also get these instances where Cassian is the comic relief. He’s the dumb one, the troublemaker, the unserious one. He plays that role for Mor and Azriel and the other characters assign that title to him. Not to go off on a different tangent, but this is why I also think the IC not validating Nesta’s trauma is very IC thing to do, since they don’t seem to do it for themselves, and to really fit into this group, you’d need to sweep yourself under a rug and I think that’s why it seemed to be almost an outright attack when Nesta wouldn’t do this. We see now many more instances where going against the group exhibits the most dramatic response (i.e. telling Feyre about the pregnancy, Azriel and his want of Elain, Cassian being concerned about looking for the Dread Trove). But regardless, I think Cassian is a allowed to be a more natural person around Nesta than he is around the IC or about the IC. 

And then we also get this constant reference to Nesta just not judging people right off the bat. Amren likes her for this. Azriel treats her normally because of this. Both of which are said to be such an unnatural response, because everyone but Nesta will judge them immediately. Then we have that solstice scene, where she goes to Azriel who’s sitting out in the corner, because he’s alone and they, both, even from the beginning have this sort of understanding about each other and what they hide/don’t hide. Even when she thinks of Mor, she’s not harsh like Mor is, she calls her a hypocrite and moves on. When Mor literally is super verbally aggressive in ACOWAR twice, she just goes on her way. Like Cassian, I think it’s fascinating that everyone has a problem with Nesta, and that we see some of the ugliest qualities of these characters because of Nesta, because they don’t chill for five seconds as part of the group dynamic. Individually, we did see Mor not be so bad. So that’s also interesting too. It might be the whole, rather than its parts. 

Let’s not forget that Nesta is inherently good, no matter how “angry” she is and she’s very protective of the people she loves. She was the one who fought for those humans to the Queens and then to the High Lords, wanted to protect their right to live, who acknowledged those children in ACOWAR who’d died, and those who could die. She defended Gwyn from Merrill, then Gwyn and Emerie during the Rite. Elain all of her life, as evidenced by the memory of the dance, Nesta’s favoritism, and then Elain’s change to being fae arc. She defended Feyre to Tamlin, both in ACOWAR and in ACOSF, then you know sacrificed her powers, but she also literally tried to cross the wall to get Feyre back and then when Feyre came back she told her be free, because you have that opportunity and we won’t hold you back. She helped in that war that she was scared to be in. She defended Cassian, protected Cassian on numerous occasions pre ACOSF and then now in ACOSF. This is why I think that no matter how much some of the characters want to be mad at Nesta, it almost seems foolish to be. Almost ignorant. Very selfish to be quite honest as if their inconvenience is bigger than her pain. 

But, because all of this, is centered around Nesta, I have a feeling that this genuineness is more because of Nesta than it is because of other people towards Nesta. I think that her ability to create an environment that is judgement free, coupled with this idea that she feels so much, alongside the fact that she is very protective of people and the idea of goodwill, would make her more empathetic to people and their pain. I would love if post-healing arc that’s where Nesta’s personality is taken. I don’t want to her fully assimilate to the IC or maybe she should just to shake things up--maybe she should because she could probably be more helpful than the IC’s quack tendencies of telling each other to quietly persist in their own trauma without acknowledging the other person’s pain, though this would be MESSY. I just do feel that Nesta could end up being the most loving, and I would like to see more of her just being caring in a carefree way. Love freely given, I mean. Because I hated that this book almost made love seem to have to be deserved or earned. (an analysis for another time I suppose)

[solalunar-eclipse]

Scars You Can’t See - Chapter 13

Chapter title: Finale

Word count: about 4200 words

Author’s Note: Thank you so much to everyone who’s read this fic. From the ones who were here at the beginning to the ones who joined in along the way, and even to the ones who are just reading this for the first time now: thank you! I really appreciate your support and willingness to read all about this idea of mine. I hope you enjoy the final chapter!

Warnings for nightmares and vague descriptions of violence, just in case.

First  | Previous 

...

In the end, another week or so was needed to finally get everything sorted out with G.U.N.- seven days which began to feel less and less stressful and more like an extended sleepover as time flew by. Eventually, though, the organization was shut down and most of their contacts closed off, leaving the country as safe as it could ever be for Teams Dark and Sonic to return.

Even as the former team began to move back into Club Rouge, setting up what little personal artifacts they had left (the suitcase they’d had was being shipped back to them from the motel in Central City where they’d left it), the club itself remained dark and empty, the three residents living above it still too wary to feel ready to reopen. Rouge, Shadow, and Omega spent about four days just living off their considerable savings and watching TV, attempting to get used to a somewhat normal life again after so long without it. 

Rouge got to enjoy those late mornings she’d been hoping for, Omega was able to do his favorite activities without taking responsibility for the team anymore, and Shadow…

...there were good times and bad times, with him.

He would often find himself utterly at peace in some moments, cooking a meal after insisting that Rouge couldn’t eat takeout all the time as his two best friends shouted wildly at their newest favorite show, and he couldn’t help but smile at all the cheerfulness that surrounded him. But at the same time, he woke up screaming nearly every night, unable to stop seeing Rouge and Omega dragged off to an unknown fate by G.U.N., or worse, seeing them lifeless and sprawled on the floor, unable to do anything to save them at all….

Both his friends would always come into his room (they’d actually started sleeping in there now to help him better) and hold him until the panic dissipated, assuring him that they were alright and that there was nothing to be afraid of anymore.

This, however, wasn’t entirely true just yet.

One night, a would-be attacker (one of the last remnants of G.U.N.’s influence guiding them, most likely) picked the lock on the door and entered the club, sneaking across the ground floor. Rouge heard them first with her hyper-sensitive ears, whispering the situation quickly to Shadow. Suddenly, before she could stop him, he darted silently to the door, prepared to fight if necessary. The bat could defend herself just fine, of course, but he was still very much on edge.

It turned out that he didn’t need to worry, though, because as the intruder began to creep up the two flights of stairs, they glanced to their left on the darkened first floor. And spotted an absolutely terrifying pair of glowing red eyes staring at them from the darkness.

That alone would have been enough to make them scream and leave rapidly (they weren’t by any means as trained as some of G.U.N.’s other contacts) but Omega saw fit to point two charging laser cannons at them, too, and quite honestly even Sonic would’ve been surprised at the speed with which that intruder ran.

After that, Rouge decided that she’d had enough relaxing for a while and that she needed some structure in her life, so she opened up the club again and started it working (albeit on a limited basis, she wasn’t quite prepared for a full schedule yet). The well-known hotspot had been sorely missed, as evidenced by the large number of customers- and tips. The bat was delighted to see some of her favorite regulars again, and they were more than happy to accept the shortened hours just so long as it stayed open.

Eventually, though, as it became clear that the bat was fully prepared to just sweep the stress of this adventure under the rug and go back to daily life as it was before, she ended up subjected to quite a few discussions from Omega, Knuckles and even Sonic about her...habits. They were all too aware of how much strain she’d been under during their time on the run, not to mention all of the verbal attacks and physical stress she’d had to deal with beforehand. At first, she managed to brush it off, insisting that she was perfectly fine and that this sort of thing wasn’t necessary at all.

Omega had cornered her one day in her room though, with only a single sentence to say: “Think about the example you’re setting for Shadow.”

Rouge’s ears drooped slightly in guilt as she realized just how much a) Shadow based some of his behaviors off of her and b) how vehemently he had opposed the idea of therapy when it was first mentioned. 

She sighed quietly. “Just one. For Shadow. And nothing’s going to come of it, you hear me?”

Two days later, she walked into the office calmly, her cool business face on and her skepticism high. The therapist she met with was young, friendly, and quite earnest and eager to help her in any way they could. As they listened to the story of her life, though, their face twisted in concern. “I understand you enjoy your job and the risks that come with it...but all those awful things people have said to you- that’s terrible!”

Rouge shrugged her shoulders. “It’s part of the job, y’know? Just have to grin and bear it.”

They looked down at their desk quietly. “How long have you been ‘grinning and bearing it’ for, exactly?”

“....a while.”

Rouge left the office after a little more talking with a distinct feeling of unease in her chest. She drove home quietly, with none of the usual music or radio that she liked on. The bat remained absolutely silent as she entered the house, too, which was the first major sign to both of her friends that something was wrong.

Shadow and Omega appeared at her side quickly, asking her what had happened and what was wrong (with quite a few threats of violence to the person who had upset her) which unfortunately had the opposite effect to what they were hoping for and instead just made her eyes start to water a little.

“Rouge, what’s going on?” Shadow asked, worried, as he pulled her over to the couch. 

She managed to calm herself relatively quickly, and eventually found the words to explain how  the biting words she heard every day cut deeper than she let on. How she took on mountains of emotional stress because she was the leader, and the oldest, and it was her responsibility. 

The bat quickly tried to add that neither of them needed to worry about this, it was fine, that she was still the oldest and she’d accepted that responsibility and she could work out the stress on her own. As Omega began to insist on providing various objections to every last one of those arguments, Shadow vanished, only to return within a couple of minutes with a bag of mystery supplies.

“Today’s your off day, right?” he asked, with a determined look in his eyes.

“Yes, hon.” she said quietly. “I should probably go do the shopping at some point-”

“After therapy? No way.” Omega declared, putting a hand on her head and pushing her back down onto the couch after she’d started to get up. 

“I’ll go shopping tomorrow.” Shadow said calmly. “I remember you haven’t been to the spa in a long time, and even if we can’t make you an appointment this late, we can still do something else.”

Omega pulled a packaged ‘hydrating and exfoliating face mask’ from the bag, holding it by the corner and looking as confused as he could possibly get. “I have no idea what this does, but if you like it then that’s fine, I suppose.” he said, handing it back to Shadow gingerly.

“Aww, guys, you don’t have to-” she insisted, disliking the idea of them having to do any work regarding her own emotional burdens.

“Yes we do.” they said in sync. 

“And this needs to be at least a biweekly occurrence, too.” Omega declared.

“A Rouge day?” Shadow asked. “I agree.”

The bat protested weakly, but allowed herself to be dragged upstairs, and various soaps with relaxing scents to be placed in her hands. “And here’s a bath bomb. Or, uh, three.” The hybrid looked sheepish. “I don’t know which kind you like.”

“And do not come out until you are sufficiently relaxed.” Omega ordered her, before pushing her into the bathroom gently.

Rouge gave a quiet yet fond sigh as she looked down at the various self-care items in her hands. Those two could really be stubborn sometimes, whether about fighting or friendship.

Quickly, she swung open the door and gave them both a hug, then vanished back inside the bathroom before either could react.

The rest of the day was spent taking care of Rouge, whether it was Shadow painting her nails or Omega agreeing to watch her favorite show that night (even if he couldn’t seem to understand why people in drama shows didn’t just do what they wanted instead of agonizing about it so much). That definitely wasn’t the end of it, though.

Eventually, she managed to go back for a few more sessions just to straighten things out and figure out how to care for herself better in the long run. It didn’t hurt, either, that anytime Shadow or Omega caught someone insulting her (and her ignoring it), whether it be for her looks or her interest in a store’s jewelry, they would verbally tear into the person with such fury that Rouge was nearly embarrassed…

...but not quite. It felt good to be looked out for, she had to admit, and they were showing how much they cared about her in their own way.

It turned out that Shadow was showing it in another way, too, albeit one she didn’t notice at first. One day, as she checked through her finances, the bat realized that her bank account had begun to grow too quickly to be normal. When she checked through her balance, she discovered that someone was adding mystery payments every Friday.

Rouge found out why one afternoon when she came back from shopping early to discover Shadow standing in the living room, pulling off some sort of light green shirt and draping it over the back of a chair as he moved to the kitchen (probably for some coffee beans).

“Something you need to tell me, hon?” she asked, and was only slightly surprised when he yelled in shock, hands crackling with Chaos energy before he realized it was her. 

“Ugh...Rouge, don’t scare me like that…” he sighed.

“You didn’t answer my question, Shadow.” she shot back.

He shuffled around nervously, seeming unwilling to provide her with a straight answer. Once he realized that there was no getting out of this, though, her sensitive ears picked up the sound of the hybrid gulping briefly before taking a deep breath. “I...I’ve been working part-time arranging flowers.” he said, rushing the words out as though that would keep her from understanding them.

“Honey, you know you don’t have to do that- we still have enough money to handle the club’s current hours for a while longer…” she began, worrying that he was pushing himself too hard.

Shadow folded his arms. “Keeping us afloat isn’t all up to you, remember? And I actually enjoy it- it’s kind of calming.” he said, almost defiantly.

“If you insist.” she replied. “But make sure not to mess up your schedule, you know you need to make sure you’re getting your rest after everything.”

The hybrid rolled his eyes. “I’m the Ultimate Lifeform, I don’t need-”

“Wrong answer.” Omega said from the doorway, folding his arms and glowering at Shadow. Rouge had an expression to match, seeming pretty distressed by what he’d said.

“Shadow, hon, you keep using that title as an excuse not to take care of yourself, and that’s just as unhealthy as me ignoring people who try and bother me.” she said softly. “I...think you should really consider talking to the same person I did- it’s really helped, you know that.”

The hybrid sulked in the car on the way to the office a couple days later, but didn’t actively attempt to resist, so he probably knew that Rouge was right. He told his story to them in the most calm, nonchalant manner he could pull off, though his friends did take over the story occasionally when his voice trailed off.

By the end of it, the young mouse was frowning at their desk again. “Honestly, I’m...I’m speechless. The fact that so many people were willing to treat you so badly- it’s horrible. So...I’m really glad you’re here, and I’ll do my best to help you however I can.”

Shadow was a little touched by this amount of concern from what was essentially a stranger, though he remained resistant to their suggestions at first. However, a day or two later, he had yet another nightmare- and a bad one too. Ordinarily, he’d just ignore it and lie awake for hours trying to get back to sleep, but this time, he happened to recall what the therapist had said.

“It’s okay to ask for help, Shadow. You deserve it just as much as anyone else- no matter what some people may have said.”

He tried to avoid the thought, but his mind wouldn’t rest and he couldn’t even begin to relax. (Truthfully, he was too scared to, in case the nightmares came back.) Guiltily, he got up, shuffled over to Rouge’s room, and opened the door quietly. It took him a long moment to even work up the nerve to walk over to her bedside, but eventually he did. He shook her awake gently by the shoulder, unwilling to meet her eyes.

“Oh, Shadow….” was all she said, before pulling him gently under the blankets with her and holding him tight.

The hybrid felt so pathetic and childish, yet he still buried his face in the crook of her neck, letting out a quiet sniffle. He could smell a mixture of her perfume and shampoo, and it calmed him slowly, as did the feeling of her arms around him. Eventually, he managed to fall back asleep to the sound of her breathing, and spent the rest of the night in relative peace.

When Shadow woke up early in the morning and Omega was right beside the bed, one of his hands resting comfortingly on his side, he didn’t even question it. He just placed his hand right over one of the giant metal fingers before resting a while longer, a small smile on his face.

As the days continued and the two Mobians started taking care of themselves more- with lower stress levels and many more peaceful nights as a result- Shadow finally even worked up the nerve to spend some time with Omega at the firing range. 

They had made careful plans. There were noise-canceling earmuffs available for free upon entry, and Shadow wouldn’t even be in the same room as most of the weaponry. He had a katana sword and he knew where the practice dummies were, and that was enough.

They’d be able to see each other through a glass window and wave (and show off, of course). So while Shadow approached the building with a slight air of trepidation, he also felt rather excited to be able to work on his fighting skills once again, especially with his friend.

That is, until the attendant at the desk refused to give him the headset when he asked for it.

“You have to rent an item to get the free headphones,” the young woman said, looking bored and generally unsympathetic. “That’s the rule.”

“I don’t see anything saying that.” Shadow shot back, but inside he felt more nervous than anything. He couldn’t stay here if he didn’t get that equipment, but he’d really wanted to spend some time with Omega today…

The robot appeared behind him surprisingly quickly, wrenching aside the attendant’s computer to glower at her better. “I have seen others come in here and get headsets for free while bringing their own weapons, so you had better have a good explanation for why you refuse to give him one.”

“He’s got a sword,” she pointed out unhelpfully, “so he shouldn’t even need one. Headsets are only for people with projectile weapons, anyway.”

Omega’s fingers tightened on the counter until they made a noticeable scraping sound. The attendant winced and even the otherwise impassive Shadow’s ears twitched at the noise.

He lifted up his hand, revealing deep scratches in the stainless steel. “You should think about being fair and providing Shadow with a headset now. Before I become really irritated.”

“That’s- I shouldn’t have to make an exception, he isn’t going to be on the firing range!”

“He does and you should. My friend does not do well with the sound of gunfire, so he deserves to have one. Right. Now.” Omega insisted, glaring at her.

“Well, if he doesn’t like guns then he shouldn’t be here.” she said irritably. “I’m not giving him one. And that’s final.”

The robot turned away suddenly and stalked towards the door. “Then I refuse to spend one moment longer in this building. Congratulations on losing your establishment some money.”

Shadow followed his friend, feeling more than a little like he’d just experienced some sort of verbal whiplash. “Wait...what just happened?”

“I decided that this place is clearly not good enough to deserve our patronage. We can find somewhere else to spend our time.”

“But I thought this was the best place in the area- I don’t want to make you miss out…” Shadow said, feeling bad for his friend.

Omega put a heavy arm around Shadow’s shoulders. “Amenities mean nothing to me if the people there insist you suffer in the process.”

The hybrid leaned against his friend, grateful. “Thank you, Omega.”

(They did eventually find a new- if slightly less upscale- place to go, and Omega managed to hit fifteen bulls-eyes in a row before being informed that they didn’t quite have the money for prizes there. Shadow enjoyed being able to use his sword, and he got significantly more respect on the way out of the building as opposed to the general confusion and mild derision he’d received on the way in...particularly after he defeated one of the most respected patrons in five minutes flat.)

…

Nearly a month and a half after Team Dark left Angel Island, Sonic set up a little party with some friends to celebrate their general success, as well as their slow steps to getting better, day by day. The team had been pretty reclusive and slightly paranoid as of late, so this was their first proper social outing in a long while.

Once they got over to Sonic’s house, all three members of Team Dark were immediately greeted with a shriek of “GUYS!”, followed by the sudden appearance of one cheerful pink hedgehog. “Rouge, Omega, Shadow, hi! How are you guys? Do you need anything?” Amy Rose asked, managing to simultaneously be cheerful, sympathetic, and doting in a way only she ever could.

“We’re doing better all the time, hon. Thank you.” Rouge answered kindly, while Omega waved at her and Shadow offered up a quiet nod. 

Amy wasn’t deterred by the latter’s behavior- she’d spent enough time with him to know that they were pretty good friends and that he was probably just a little overwhelmed, so she gave him his space. Blaze greeted them all politely as they entered the living room as well from her seat on the couch, but was quickly overshadowed by the other spacetime traveler present for the party.

Silver dashed over to the group, looking them all up and down worriedly. Upon seeing that they were mostly unharmed, albeit tired, he focused his attention on his personal hero and occasional mentor on Chaos techniques (Shadow).

“Are- are you going to be okay?” he asked worriedly, hovering (both literally and figuratively) around the other hedgehog. “Silly question, sorry, I just, if you’re not okay then I’m here if you need-”

“Silver.” Shadow cut the psychic off, but in a gentle manner. “I think I’ll be alright. If I’m ever not, though, I’ll keep your offer in mind. Thank you.”

“Okay.” He sighed, his nervous energy dissipating. It was replaced by a smile almost instantly, though, as he added, “Okay! I’m just so glad you guys managed to stop G.U.N. and everything. And that you’re alright now!”

Shadow offered him a small smile. “So am I.”

Soon after, Omega hurried down to Tails’s workshop with a shout of “What have you been working on? I need to see everything right now” and Rouge busied herself with scaring the living daylights out of Knuckles by sneaking up on him from behind. Meanwhile, Sonic stepped into Silver and Shadow’s conversation, at ease with both of them and enjoying the party. “You got some food yet?” he asked the hybrid, smiling warmly at him.

“No…?” Shadow said cautiously.

“Oh, man! There’s so much, you’ve gotta try everything!” Sonic exclaimed, dragging Shadow into the kitchen with one hand while Silver did the same with the other.

Moments later, he found himself with a plate filled with every kind of food available in the kitchen, from french fries to mini-sandwiches to cupcakes. Shadow startled slightly upon realizing that everybody else seemed to have brought several nice foods, and all his team had thought to bring was a bottle or two of soda. “I apologize for our lack of food-” he began, feeling somehow as though he should have done better, but Sonic silenced him quickly.

“Dude, no way! We’re having this party for you guys anyway because of all the stressful work you went through!”

Silver chimed in quickly. “We didn’t ask you guys to bring food because we didn’t want you to worry- you’ve done more than enough work for a long time.”

Shadow, in response, quickly shoved a mini-sandwich into his mouth to keep himself from saying anything too emotional.

Later, as they all settled down to watch the pilot episode of an old but well-known TV show, the hybrid found himself squeezed in between Rouge on one side, still flirting with Knuckles (punctuated by the occasional check-in on Shadow) and Sonic on the other side, in a surprisingly intense argument with Blaze about whether or not this show, Nebula Expedition: The Following Age, was better than the original.

Omega, meanwhile, was trying his best not to utterly crush the beanbag chair on the floor he’d been given after the couch had nearly tipped over the moment he sat down. Tails was leaned against him, while Amy, Blaze and Silver shared the other sofa.

Suddenly, Sonic turned to him, his expression intense and serious. “Shadow. This is the most important question you’re gonna answer all week. Which show is better: The Following Age or the original?”

The hybrid shook his head, a smile appearing on his face despite his best attempts to ignore it. It was crazy to think that he’d gone from the most important question of the week being “Am I going to be captured by G.U.N. and imprisoned?” to “Which show is better?”, and he couldn’t help but allow a laugh to escape him. It was just a quick little snicker, but it was enough for Sonic’s eyes to widen and for him to grin. 

“What’s that all about?” he asked, half joking and half serious, leaning his shoulder on Shadow’s. “You think this question’s a joke? Your answer’s really important here, y’know!”

“Well, for your information…” the hybrid began.

Sonic leaned in a little closer. “Yeah?”

“I like Asteroid Battle the best. Only the originals, though.”

The hero gave a cry of dismay and flopped back against the couch, throwing his hands up in the air. “Asteroid Battle? Asteroid Battle?? That wasn’t even an option!” he cried. “It’s not even in the same franchise, for Chaos’ sake!”

“Too bad.” Shadow replied smugly, folding his arms and still smiling. “Because that’s the one I like best.”

Sonic smacked him on the arm and heaved a dramatic sigh. “Well, too bad to both you and Blaze, because it’s my TV and I get to pick the show.”

Shadow wasn’t the least bit bothered about that as he settled in to watch, surrounded by his friends and safe as he could be. This atmosphere- of cheer and kindness and laughter- this was what he’d wanted to be able to enjoy all along.

He wasn’t entirely there yet- and maybe he would never be able to know the freedom that came when people didn’t carry the memories he did. But in the end, he couldn’t say that he regretted that burden too greatly. Even through all the bad, he had enough good in this world that it was all worth the struggle in the end, if he got to be here, now, in this place with the people he cared for most.

Shadow met Rouge’s eyes briefly, and then Omega’s, hoping that the words he couldn’t say right now would be understood.

Thank you both so much. For being there for me, through the good times and the bad. For being happy with me and sad with me. For standing by me when I decided to take on the largest military organization in the world, and afterwards as well. Just...thank you.

For everything.

[kataraqui-archive]

Johnny Silverhand Meta

Why telling Johnny Silverhand he fucked up his friendship with V was cathartic as hell, more meta that no one asked for but I’m gonna go off anyway:

Obviously, spoilers ahead.

At the Pistis Sophia V and Johnny have arguably one of the deepest heart to hearts so far. Johnny reveals some of his history in the military, how a friend died to save him, how being used as a corporate tool radicalized him, and then gives V his friend’s dog tags as a symbol of his promise to sacrifice himself so V can live. It’s pretty emotional and made me feel like V and Johnny’s relationship had really grown over the course of the game.

Then Johnny asks for a favour, his last wish so to speak. To speak to Rogue and get revenge on Adam Smasher. He asks for control of V’s body so he can speak to Rogue and reiterates, multiple times, that this is ALL he’s going to do while in the driver’s seat. 

Instead, immediately and without hesitation, Johnny goes joyriding. He gets completely wasted, gets a tattoo, drinks some more, makes out with a stripper, gets into a brawl with the bouncers, then fingers the stripper in the car, crashes said car, and THEN goes to talk to Rogue after getting what information he could from the stripper. All of this he does with V’s body. He hands V back control, leaving V sick as a dog, beat up, tattooed, and with little memory of how they got in that state. 

Here’s where I get into my feelings as a player. I felt DEEPLY violated by this sequence of events and my inability to do anything about it. V’s getting piloted through sexual situations with a woman they don’t know. They’re getting tattooed. Yeah, in the world of Cyberpunk, that doesn’t have to be permanent, but it’s still all an enormous violation of V’s autonomy and what he consented to. It’s THEIR body. Beyond that, I thought V and Johnny were getting along, trusting each other, and the first moment V gave Johnny their unequivocal trust, Johnny lied. I felt betrayed. I was honestly so pissed I cried, in particular because Johnny brushed aside V’s (valid) arguments that this wasn’t what they’d agreed to and they could have done all that other stuff themselves without Johnny driving. The reality is: Johnny never intended to just speak to Rogue, he deliberately misled V so he could have one last hurrah with zero appreciation for how those actions would affect V. V who is already sick and dying because of the relic. No matter how you slice it, this is deeply fucked up behaviour.

It’s even more deeply fucked when you consider Johnny’s take on dolls. He’s openly disgusted by the way dolls are used as toys, the behavioural chip robbing them of autonomy/identity, and then their memories wiped so they don’t have to live with whatever depraved crap clients want to do with them. Then he goes and treats V exactly the way those behavioural chips treat dolls, and at first is completely unrepentant about it.

All throughout the story, Johnny reiterates how much he hates Arasaka for rewriting people’s identities. Even acknowledges that this is why he can’t stand the fact that, through the relic, he’s being made to do the same thing to V. What he does in Chippin’ In is hypocritical as fuck, but not the first time Johnny’s done something contrary to his general ethos. Though it’s not acknowledged in his memories because, as Alt points out, they were tinged with Johnny’s bias, the entire bombing of Arasaka tower was funded and backed by Militech; he hates corpos more than anything, but Johnny still accepted their backing when it served his interests.

When you follow that quest line to the point where you visit Johnny’s grave, we get to see a totally different side to Johnny. He seems humbled and distressed that, despite all he did in his lifetime, his body lies in an unmarked grave, an oil field where no one remembers it’s even there. I felt really bad for him in that moment, but I was still pissed. My V acknowledged that he would write ‘The Man Who Saved My Life’ on Johnny’s grave because, despite their falling out, Johnny is still trying to save him. There’s still a bond forged by sharing the same body and what they’ve been through. But when Johnny tries to sidestep by saying that, while he fucked up his relationships with everyone else, he’s glad he didn’t fuck up what he has with V, I wasn’t standing for that. I wasn’t going to let him play for sympathy over the unmarked grave to sweep his betrayal of V’s trust under the rug. I chose the ‘Nope, you fucked that up too,’ option. 

Honestly? One of the most cathartic moments in any game for me. Johnny doesn’t deny he fucked up either. He asks for a second chance, which my V agreed to give him, because even with all that fuckery they’re still close friends. 

I didn’t know this dialogue was what unlocked the secret ending, it just made sense given what had happened and how I felt V would respond. My partner played it differently though, which is how I came to realize that the dialogue you get with Kerry and Johnny is an indicator of your relationship. When Kerry asks ‘do you get along?’ my partner got the response, ‘Not lately, no.’ Whereas I got, ‘The kid loves me.’ That seems almost contradictory, given I’m the one who chose to go off on Johnny for his betrayal, and my partner let it lie, but looking at Johnny’s other close relationships and his general ethos in life, it painted a bigger picture. (Note: I don’t know for SURE that the ‘you fucked up’ line is required to get this, but from various playthroughs between my partner and I, and what I’ve found online since, it seems that this dialogue is the key.)

The only people Johnny considered close friends are all people we’ve seen in his memories, and in every single one he is butting heads with them in some way. Johnny knows he’s damaged the people closest to him. Acknowledges it not just over his own grave, but in various endings as well. I think it’s telling that the memories V experiences, the ones that stick out most in Johnny’s subconscious, all involve some kind of argument between he and Alt, Rogue or Kerry. I think the fact that they stood up to him mattered to him more than anything because they weren’t giving up on him. They weren’t going ‘Johnny’s beyond help.’ Johnny even asks why Denny never tried to fix him. He’s also disparaging of being a ‘yes, man’ in most quest lines, rebellious to a fault. I think V standing up to him in kind garners Johnny’s love and respect more than if V just accepts what Johnny did. Maybe Johnny sees that as disingenuous or even cowardly, but I think on a deeper level he sees it as a sign that V has given up on him too. That V can’t be bothered because he doesn’t believe Johnny can change. There’s also just something really moving to me when two people can express their anger or hurt to one another and still be friends after. 

Anyway, those are my thoughts on Johnny’s relationships and why the ‘you fucked up’ line was so important for both V and Johnny. I really love the way these characters are written, and this relationship in particular just felt really genuine in all it’s complicated glory.

Fin.