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thankskenpenders · 5 months

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Help me out here: Why is there so much Ian Flynn hate going around lately? I thought everyone loved that he was contributing to the games. Now suddenly they aren't. I guess that's par for the course for this series but I don't get it. He isn't perfect but I like what he's done. Am I a weirdo?

Ian Flynn has always had a lot of fans, but any creator putting their work out there is going to have detractors as well. That's just the nature of being an artist. To some extent, it's no big deal. He's not a perfect writer. Nobody is! I consider myself a fan of his work, but I've criticized plenty of individual writing decisions from him on here.

But Ian doesn't just have critics. He has his own obsessive hatedom. And the specific nature of Ian's hatedom is... interesting.

A decade ago, Ian was only the guy writing for Archie Sonic, meaning any debates over his work were quarantined within that tiny niche of the larger Sonic fandom. Only people who kept up with the comics month to month had any real reason to have an opinion on the guy, which means we're talking about merely thousands of fans as opposed to millions.

Within that group, he had some haters. You had the people who were mad about story changes made during his run, particularly things like ancillary characters getting killed off (although over the years we've learned that most of those were editorial mandates from Mike Pellerito). You had the people mad that Ian didn't push their favorite ship, with feuding SonAmy and Sonally fans claiming that he was CLEARLY biased towards one or the other. You had the people who just really, really liked one of the previous writers way more - usually Penders, as hard as that may be to believe today. That sort of thing. Pretty normal comic fandom type stuff. Again, it comes with the territory.

Unfortunately, many of those haters only got worse over time, morphing into reactionaries who constantly try to incite Comicsgate type culture war bullshit.

There are people still mad at Ian for making Sally bi and pairing her with Nicole instead of Sonic in the later Archie comics. There have been elaborate MS Paint red string conspiracy boards explaining how people like Ian and Jon Gray have apparently been destroying the franchise from the inside for years by Making Sonic Woke. (Jon gets dragged into this because people are still mad about him drawing The Slap 20 years later. Yes, really!!) There was an unhinged change.org petition trying to get Ian fired, specifically from people who were mad that the Freedom Fighters aren't in the IDW comics. There was even a very sad little fan campaign from these people trying to get Sega to move the Sonic comic license away from IDW and over to Udon, because they thought Udon would bring Sally and Bunnie back and also make them sexy again. There's a lot of this.

(Unfortunately, Penders has also exacerbated this by gossiping about Ian on Twitter and giving these fans ammo, but that's a whole 'nother discussion.)

The thing is, for years, people who only played the games or watched the cartoons had no reason to pay attention to any of this. Now, though, Ian isn't just writing for some weird spinoff comics that only the super nerds read. Now he's writing comics that are canon to the games, and ALSO some of the games themselves, and ALSO consulting on other tie-in media like Sonic Prime, and ALSO writing the official Sonic encyclopedia, and ALSO serving as part of the new Sonic Lore Team at Sega. And on top of all this, he's got an increasingly popular podcast where he fields questions about his work on all of these things, which serves as one of the fandom's main windows into creative decisions being made behind the scenes.

As a fan of Ian's work, it's been really cool to see him rise in prominence. But the dark side of this is that his obsessive haters from the Archie days now have WAY more of a potential audience of their own. Now, every Sonic fan has to have an opinion on Ian. What this frequently means is that you'll have the Comicsgate types taking things Ian writes or says out of context, attempting to get more of the general fandom to yell at the guy.

Unfortunately, there are a wide variety of Sonic fans who take the bait:

You've got hardcore fans who disliked basically any recent piece of Sonic media and are looking for someone to blame.

You've got the people who are concerned about the sanctity of Sonic's canon, who shoot the messenger any time Ian mentions a new retcon from Sonic Team on the podcast - or any time he even mentions the THOUGHT of changing anything about the canon, as we saw recently with the Sol Dimension nonsense.

You've got people who romanticize some sort of mythical artistic vision that Sega of Japan supposedly has (or had) for the franchise. To many of these fans, American contributors like Ian just don't "get" the heart of the series and are trying to turn Sonic into something different. (This "heart of the series" tends to be some mix of Japanese instruction manual lore, the cinematics from Sonic CD, the OVA, and/or the games written by Shiro Maekawa, depending on what Sonic media the fan in question grew up with.)

You've got fans of specific characters or ships who pin the blame for how their faves are depicted entirely on Ian - most vocally fans of Shadow, even though the root problem is that Sonic Team hasn't known what to do with Shadow since 2006. At best this stops at regular old criticism, but at its worst this devolves into claims that Ian has an agenda against certain characters.

You've got fans annoyed by a perceived over-emphasis on comic-original characters in the IDW comics, ignoring the obvious facts that these characters exist because the game cast is so tightly controlled by Sega, and also, you know, that people just like the IDW characters and want more stories about them.

You've got a LOT of discourse over IDW's Sonic being a hero who tries to give his enemies second chances, as if half of Sonic's closest friends aren't already former villains and rivals. Honestly this is very transparently just reheated Steven Universe discourse lmao

You'll also see people who just think they could do Ian's job better. They can't believe that THIS GUY is the American fan working on all these Sonic projects, when clearly THEY understand the characters and lore and themes SO much better than this charlatan.

All it takes is for someone in one of these categories to be unhappy about some recent piece of Sonic media, and for them to come across an out of context quote or comic panel that rubs them the wrong way, and suddenly the leftist Zoomer Sonic fans will join the latest dogpile on Ian alongside the reactionary Comicsgate types who are mad at him for Making Sonic Woke.

In general, when fandoms get upset, they tend to want a scapegoat. A person or two to point a finger at and go "THAT's who ruined the thing I love!" This tends to be based less on reality and more on which contributors are the most visible online. You'll sometimes see teenage and adult fans of children's cartoons single out a storyboarder who's particularly vocal on Twitter, blame them for every story decision they don't like, and harass them off the platform out of a sense of retribution for their favorite ship or whatever. Failing that, fans might choose to blame every nitpick, down to individual lines of dialogue and frames of animation, on a showrunner, just because that's the name they associate with the show. And unfortunately, when it comes to Sonic, Ian is now arguably the most prolific and outspoken contributor on the English speaking internet, and therefore a common scapegoat.

Some of the things I've seen Ian blamed for are truly wild. A lot of people have claimed for YEARS that he's just lying about the existence of creative guidelines and restrictions from Sega - or, as fans call them, The Mandates - even though they're just an inherent aspect of working on a licensed property. Others claim that The Mandates are real, but somehow Ian's fault. A vocal minority of fans have convinced themselves that Ian is the sole reason the Freedom Fighters don't exist in the IDW comics, even though Ian says he's been pushing to bring them back since day one.

Sometimes you'll see people say he ruined shit he didn't even work on. A few weeks ago on Twitter I saw someone claim that Ian had written a rejected script for Sonic Forces in which Tails died. I could not find a source for this for the life of me. As far as I can tell, the rumor seems to have been born from an alleged leaked script for Forces with margin notes from Aaron Webber that criticized the way Tails was written, and also an old tweet where Aaron joked that Tails would die in an upcoming episode of Sonic Mania Adventures. These merged into "Aaron Webber criticized a draft of the Forces script in which Tails died." How'd Ian get dragged into this? Who fucking knows!

It's all just a big game of telephone. All it takes is some asshole to make something up about Ian on Twitter or YouTube or a DeviantArt journal or some forum, and at least a couple people will believe it, and then it gets repeated as fact. Again, this used to be contained by the niche nature of the Archie Sonic fandom, but now there are WAY more people who are receptive to this shit.

It's just sad to me that Ian tries to be so open and honest about his work, to try to explain the rationale for certain things, to keep fans looped in on the direction the franchise is headed, and this just gives the Flynnspiracy types more quotes to take out of context and try to paint him as the devil. If it sounds like I'm being overly defensive and dismissing his critics, man... some of the things I've seen people say directly to him are just unbelievable. People will send paragraphs-long angry screeds in to his podcast that completely tear him apart, and he has to sit there and be like "Well, that's your opinion, and you're entitled to it." People literally pay for special guest interview episodes where they just rapid fire complaints about his writing at him directly to his face. I don't know how he does it. I would snap.

All of this over Sonic the fucking Hedgehog of all things.

I don't know how to wrap this up. Engaging with fandoms online is very tiring, which is why I tend not to do it. Things like this are too common. I guess, just... remember that making art collaboratively is a complicated thing. The people involved are generally trying their best given the circumstances, but they're only human. They make mistakes. But please treat them like humans. Criticism and dogpiling are not the same thing.

#anon #ask #tkp asks #tkp post

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shadamyheadcanons · 1 year

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Headcanon #292

Cross-posted on AO3.

So...I just finished the Zombot arc of the IDW comics. It’s incredible and heart-wrenching! Unfortunately, Shadow is...well, I’d heard he was bad in IDW thanks to Sega’s restrictive mandates on the character, but man, it hurts! Normally I just write him based on his best iterations, but this time, I wanted to see if I could make their dynamic work even while staying in-character with the worst. Something about Tails’ redemption in Frontiers working with his weakness in Forces--instead of pretending it didn’t happen and moving on, which is what many of us would’ve been content with--inspired me.

Spoilers through IDW issue #30. Also, I haven’t read any further than that, so this headcanon probably won’t fully jive with later issues.

Amy’s hand shook as she signed yet another piece of paperwork. She sighed and set it aside. Her heart stung as she looked back at the pile in front of her.

One hundred down, one thousand to go.

She gritted her teeth and picked up the next sheet. The words started to run together as she read. She shook her head and squinted past it to keep reading.

No time for complaining. If it needs to be done, I’ll do it.

She doggedly scanned the page, counting up the numbers and types of Wispons listed in their inventory and matching them up with any newly-recovered recruits they had available after the plague.

She heard whispering outside the door. She grumbled.

Great. A distraction. Just what I need.

Without lifting her head from her work, she snapped, “You know I can hear you, right? If you’re going to gossip, you might as well come in.”

A small, fluffy head peeked into her doorway, followed by a tiny blue Chao.

Amy’s shoulders relaxed a bit. “What is it, Cream?”

Cream shuffled fully into the room. She dug her toe shyly into the floor. “We’re just checking up on you, Amy. You’ve been in here an awfully long time.” Cheese nodded along.

Amy sighed. I don’t have time for this. “There’s a lot to get done, Cream. Even if there weren’t a ton of cleanup to do from the war and the plague, the Zetis are still out there. We can’t let our guard down.”

Cream started stroking one of her enormous ears, hiding halfway behind it as she protested. “But you haven’t left this room in days. You need to rest!”

Amy’s fingers tightened around the pen she was holding. She tried to go back to reading as she replied, “I don’t have a choice, Cream. We don’t have enough help. I’ll rest once things are under control, but I just can’t do that right now.”

She was forced to look up when Cream placed her hands on the desk, soft but insistent. “But...you have to!” Cream insisted, her face pained. “You need sleep, Amy!”

“I told you, I can’t!”

Cream flinched back, letting out a tiny whimper. Amy winced. She reached over the desk and took one of Cream’s hands. “Cream, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s just...between everything that’s been happening...almost losing everything...and...with Sonic being...”

Her words died in her throat.

Cream gently squeezed Amy’s hands in her own. “That’s why you need to rest, Amy!”

“No, Cream, that’s why I can’t!” Amy argued. “If I give up now, then everything Sonic was fighting for could fall apart. He ran and fought for all that time with that virus in his system! I can’t let his work go to waste.”

“But what about you, Amy?”

“What about me, Cream?!”

Before their argument could escalate further, the sounds of another dispute from outside the office met Amy’s ears.

“Oh, no. Not yet. Not when I just found you again.”

A surly voice grumbled something in reply.

Rouge stepped in through the doorway, dragging Shadow along with her by the arm. “Morning, girls. Hope you’re having as much fun as I am.”

Amy’s eyes lit up. “Shadow! I’m so glad to see you!”

Shadow just stared at her. “Why?”

She let out a breath of relief. “I heard about what happened in Sunset City. I was really worried about you.”

He immediately hunched up his shoulders. “I didn’t come here for sympathy.”

She remained silent for a moment, feeling more tiredness set in.

What happened to you?

She crossed her arms. “Well, I’m still glad to see you’re safe, whether you like it or not. So there.” She nodded firmly.

He glared at her for several seconds. Evidently unable to come up with an effective comeback to her odd brand of stubborn compassion, he just rolled his eyes. “Hmph.”

Rouge gave him an unimpressed look.

Amy shook her head. “Do you two need something?”

“We’re looking for Omega,” Rouge explained. “There isn’t a huge rush, but once G.U.N.’s back on their feet, I’m sure they’ll have a mission for us.”

“Sorry, Rouge, but I’m not the one to ask,” Amy replied, skimming the document in front of her. “Tails said he’ll get to rebuilding him once things are a little more under control. You’ll have to find him.”

Shadow growled. “I told you, if you’d just let me...”

“We’re not doing this again,” Rouge snapped. “You just recovered from the Metal Virus, and then you immediately snuck off alone and tried to fight Metal Sonic.”

Cream gasped. “By yourself?!”

Shadow’s mouth was set in a frustrated grimace. “Did anyone else notice Eggman was getting away? No. Was anyone else there to chase him down? No. It needed to be done. And if I could just try another approach--”

Amy felt her heart soften, seeing herself in Shadow. He must be so frustrated. This isn’t the right way of going about it, but...I do understand.

Apparently, Rouge disagreed. “And then what? You’ll do something reckless and get yourself hurt again? Shadow, do you have any idea how...” She trailed off and grimaced. “What about the rest of us? We need you! Think about someone else for a change!”

“UGH!” Amy cried. She rubbed her temples. “No offense, but if you guys are going to argue, then can you take it somewhere else? I can’t work like this.”

Rouge looked down at her. She cringed, though she still didn’t let go of Shadow. “Now that I look at you, Amy, you look terrible. You shouldn’t be working like this.”

“She hasn’t slept in days!” Cream blurted. “She needs to stop!”

Rouge’s eyes bugged out.

Shadow had been averting his gaze, but now she could feel his eyes on her, though they remained unreadable.

“What I need is some space,” Amy spat, tapping her pen against her desk. “Someone needs to do the paperwork on weapons distribution, and I’m the closest thing to a weapons expert the Restoration has right now.”

“What about Miss Whisper? Doesn’t she know a lot about Wispons?”

“I had to send Whisper to Spiral Hill Village to do cleanup with Tangle,” Amy explained, trying to be patient with Cream. “I can’t separate those two again. You saw the state she was in when we had to leave Tangle behind.”

She tried to go back to the forms, but Rouge’s smooth voice cut in. “What about Tails? He’s the tech guy, isn’t he?”

Amy’s fists clenched, and she gritted her teeth. “He’s working on tracking down the Zetis. Everyone else is off fighting, rebuilding, or doing search and rescue. There isn’t anyone. It has to be me right now.”

“Cream’s right, Amy. You can’t keep this up,” Rouge argued. “You’ll burn yourself out at this rate, and then you won’t be any help to anyone. You need--”

“What I NEED is some peace and quiet!” Amy snarled, glaring back and forth between Cream and Rouge. “I’ll never get this done with everyone bothering me like this.”

She’d just gone back to the forms when she was interrupted again--but this time, it was a lower, more calming voice.

“You want peace and quiet? I can provide that.”

Amy blinked up at Shadow in surprise. “Really?”

He nodded and wrenched his arm out of Rouge’s grasp so he could join Amy behind the desk. “If this has to get done, then it has to get done. I’ll bring you somewhere quiet.”

Rouge choked. “Shadow, you can’t just--”

“Yes I can. Didn’t you want me to ‘think about someone else for a change?’” he sneered.

Amy glanced from Cream’s worried eyes, to Rouge’s disapproving look--and then to the pile of papers. She gathered them up and smirked at Shadow. “You know what? That sounds like exactly what I need.”

He nodded and took her hand. Cream and Rouge balked.

“Amy--!”

“Shadow--!”

“CHAOS CONTROL!”

In a flash, the two hedgehogs were gone. Cream sighed, and Rouge held a hand to her forehead.

“What am I going to do with that guy?”

Amy blinked her eyes open. “Where are we?”

“My place.”

He released her hand to turn on the light, decreasing the intensity shortly thereafter with a dimmer switch. She gazed around at her unfamiliar surroundings and cocked her head in confusion. “Did you guys move...? I visited you one time, but I don’t recognize any of this.”

Strictly speaking, Rouge had invited Knuckles over, but he’d been too nervous to go alone. Amy had pulled Shadow into the kitchen to help bake a cake with her to give Rouge and Knuckles some privacy at one point, and she’d had a nice, low-key talk with Shadow while they did so. He’d actually asked her advice on something.

That really was a nice visit...but it’s been a long time since then.

“Rouge and Omega still live in the same place, but I moved out,” Shadow explained, kicking off his air shoes. “G.U.N.’s been sending me on more solo missions recently. They moved me closer to HQ.”

Amy started to pull off her boots, then stopped. “Wait...you live alone?”

“Yes.”

A pain made itself known in Amy’s chest. “Doesn’t that get lonely?”

“I’m fine on my own.” He started walking farther into the house.

She dropped her boots off and jogged after him. “Why would they need you to be closer for that? Can’t you just teleport whenever they need you?”

“You ask a lot of questions for someone who wants peace and quiet,” he pointed out. Amy laughed tiredly, unable to argue with that.

Shadow walked past a couch with clutter piled high on two of its three cushions. He stopped beside a nearby desk and picked up the laptop and cord from on top of it to make space. “You can work here.”

“Phew!” Amy dropped the stack of paperwork on the desk and flopped into the chair. She smiled up at him, tired but grateful. “Thank you, Shadow.”

He gave a curt nod and walked off.

Amy watched him go. Her ears drooped sadly.

Poor Shadow. He can say he’s fine all he wants, but...

Shadow sat down on the one available spot on the couch and opened up his laptop. His face was set in the stalwart scowl he’d been wearing recently, a far cry from the solemn but relaxed expression she was used to.

I know he’s hurting.

Amy sighed and returned to her work. Not much I can do to help, especially not right now. I need to make the most of this.

She was only two forms in, but her eyes were struggling to stay open. She shook it off and bit the inside her cheek, hoping the pain would help keep her alert.

“Here.”

Amy jumped at the deep voice over her shoulder. “Huh?”

Shadow was placing a mug next to her on the desk. “Coffee.”

She looked back and forth between him and the mug blearily, then brightened up. “Thanks, Shadow! This is exactly what I needed!”

He brushed it off as he walked back to the couch. “I was making some for myself anyway. It wasn’t any extra effort.”

“I still appreciate the thought!” she sang, unperturbed by his lack of response.

She sipped the beverage, sighing in relief as warmth seeped into her bones. He makes a mean cup of coffee, too! Has coffee always tasted this good?

She signed off on a few more pages. Despite the coffee, she felt a headache coming on. She squinted at the letters on the page. “Shadow, don’t you think it’s a little dim in here?”

“I don’t like bright lights.”

He didn’t elaborate further. She pursed her lips and looked around, frowning when she couldn’t find a lamp. Guess this is the best I’m gonna get. Well...beggars can’t be choosers, I guess.

She yawned and continued with her work. She almost nodded off a few times but managed to hold it together for a while longer.

Eventually, the sound of Shadow shifting and standing up to leave the room made her jump, cluing her in that she’d fallen halfway asleep. She shook her head and blinked her eyes wide open. Keep it together!

She’d just finished another sheet when she heard footsteps from her left. A tantalizing smell wafted in under her nose as a plate was placed on the desk next to the stack of papers. She looked up at Shadow, baffled. “What’s this?”

“Turkey. It was taking up space in my fridge, so you can have it.”

Her eyes went wide. He looked away and crossed his arms insistently. “I’m not gonna cook anything. Don’t expect anything else.”

Her responding smile was gentle. “I wouldn’t expect that. Thank you so much!”

He nodded and returned to his laptop. Amy started in on the turkey. Her tail wagged happily.

I had no idea how hungry I was! It’s only frozen turkey, but man, did I need this!

She tried to keep working, but her gaze kept drifting back to Shadow. She watched as he lit up some incense and left it on his coffee table. You were always quiet and serious, but you were never prickly back when I met you. You let me hug you. You listened. You weren’t afraid of letting people know you cared. Did G.U.N. do this to you?

Amy’s eyes burned in anger past their lids. Her grip on the pen tightened as she filled out another form.

If I ever catch wind that G.U.N. hurt you, that commander will have a date with my hammer.

Once her anger died down, however, Amy started to lose focus. The dim lighting and Shadow’s quiet keystrokes didn’t help, nor did the calming scent of lavender from his incense. The letters blurred. The pen left extra lines on the paper whenever she dozed off in the middle of writing something. It wasn’t long before her consciousness faded out, coffee be damned.

The last thing she registered was a feeling of weightlessness as someone lifted her from the stiff chair, reassuring her in a low, calming voice.

Amy’s eyelids fluttered open some time later. She blinked and rubbed them a few times, then stretched and took stock of her surroundings.

The bed she was lying in was soft but unfamiliar. A bit of light shone in from around the edges of the heavy curtains on the window, illuminating the warm black bedspread comfortably swaddling her as she gazed around a room she didn’t recognize. Books were piled on the nightstand. She idly basked in the relaxing scent on the pillows, trying to place where she knew it from...at least until she noticed the digital clock.

1:00.

Her eyes shot open.

One? One pm or am? What day is it?!

Amy burst out of the room and dashed in what she hoped was the direction of the front door. “SHAAADOOOWWW?!”

She skidded to a stop in the first room she’d entered the night before, but no one was seated on the couch. She stayed quiet as she scanned the area.

“Walk of shame, huh, Amy? Thought you had work to do.”

“Eep!”

Amy jumped in surprise and turned around to see Rouge sitting on the counter in the open kitchen behind her, legs crossed. She winked at Amy.

Amy sputtered and straightened out her dress, the same dress she’d been wearing last night. “I-I wasn’t--!”

Rouge chuckled. “Just a joke, Amy. If you’re gonna sneak off with the guy I’m trying to keep track of, the least you can do is let me have a little fun with it.”

Amy tensed up, suddenly embarrassed by the memory of their hasty departure. “Ah, riiiight...sorry, Rouge.”

She uncrossed her legs. “It’s not a big deal. I at least knew he wasn’t doing anything reckless if he was looking out for you.”

Amy smiled wryly. “So where is he?”

Rouge sighed. “Your guess is as good as mine. He already left,” she said, nodding to where hers and Amy’s boots sat alone by the door. Rouge stepped around the counter to join her. “He was gone when I got here. It was just you, looking awfully comfortable in his bed. Should I ask what happened last night?” She snickered.

“Nothing like...that!” Amy huffed and combed her fingers through her quills to straighten them out. “I was getting work done. He was nice enough to make me coffee and give me food, but I still fell asleep. He must’ve carried me to bed after that.” She sighed.

Rouge just stared at her, baffled. “Really?” Amy nodded. “Huh. He’s normally a terrible host.” She stepped back into the kitchen and picked up a bag of coffee grounds. “I gotta ask, though; why’d you ask for decaf when you wanted to stay awake?”

Amy stopped. “What?”

Rouge held up the bag to show her. “See? Decaf.”

Amy squinted at it. “I didn’t ask for coffee. He just made it for me. He said he made some for himself and just gave me some while he was at it.”

But Rouge shook her head. “Shadow doesn’t drink coffee, he just eats the beans,” she explained, nodding to a plastic container full of coffee beans next to the fridge. “If he bothered to brew coffee, it was just for you.”

Amy’s eyes softened. “Really? So he...wait a minute...” Her eyes narrowed. “He gave me decaf coffee, fed me turkey, kept the lights dim, stayed quiet, burned lavender incense--” She gasped, scandalized. “He sabotaged me! He totally let me fall asleep on purpose!”

Rouge burst out laughing.

Amy turned on her. “What’s so funny?!”

Rouge wiped a tear from the corner of her eye and tried to hold back her laughter. “Oh, hun, I’m sure it wasn’t anything bad! He was just worried about you, like Cream and I were!”

Amy tapped her foot rapidly. “What do you mean?”

Rouge calmed down. “You looked like you were ready to collapse yesterday, Amy. Tell me: how much work were you actually getting done at that point?”

Amy averted her eyes.

Rouge placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “All Shadow did was spare you a stiff neck. He does have a sweet side, you know.”

Amy tried to remain firm, but after a moment, a light laugh escaped her. “Yeah. I do know.” She exchanged a meaningful nod with Rouge, then wandered back over to Shadow’s desk and looked around in confusion. “I thought I left the forms right here. Did you do something with them?”

“He probably brought them back to HQ for you with Chaos Control so you wouldn’t have to carry them all by hand.”

Amy found the pen she’d been using. She picked it up and smiled wistfully. “He’s very thoughtful. In his own way.”

“Heh. Don’t tell anyone, or he’ll never hear the end of it,” Rouge mock-whispered. Amy giggled and pocketed the pen.

Rouge walked her outside. “Do you know where you are?”

Amy squinted past the bright sunlight. She peered around, finding she recognized some of the buildings around her, even in their crumbled state from after the war and the Zombot plague. “Yeah. HQ should be...that way.”

Rouge nodded. “It’s not too far, but do you want a lift? I’m flying that way anyway,” she offered, extending a hand.

“Oh, thank you so much, Rouge!” Amy gushed, happily taking her hands. Rouge lifted her and took off in the direction of HQ.

Amy gazed down at the ruined city below her. It had clearly been hectic and crowded before the destruction. She frowned, remembering the time she’d spoken with Shadow about their mutual love of nature.

He must hate it here.

“Hey, Rouge?”

“Hm?”

“How long has Shadow been living by himself?”

Amy heard a sigh above her. She peeked up.

Rouge’s face was surprisingly weary. “It’s been about a year now.” Amy flinched, so Rouge added, “I insisted on getting a spare key immediately. I visit whenever I can, like this morning.”

Amy sighed. “Thank Chaos! He says he’s fine on his own, but...”

“He’s lying,” they spoke together. The two exchanged a sad smile.

Amy bit her lip. “Shadow wasn’t always...like this. He used to be different.”

Rouge just kept flying. Her silence spoke volumes.

Amy tried again. “Did something happen?”

Silence.

“Was it something G.U.N. did?”

Amy could see the way Rouge’s jaw clenched. Finally, she responded.

“Even if I knew the full story, it wouldn’t be mine to tell. You’ll have to get it out of him.”

“I’m going to.”

Rouge’s eyes widened.

Amy grinned up at her, determined. “I’m going to get to the bottom of this and make things right. I’ll never give up on him!”

Rouge’s surprised look softened into an encouraging smile. “I believe it. If there’s anyone who can get through to him, it’s you.”

Rouge dropped her off at the entrance to HQ. Amy thanked her and dashed down the hallway toward what remained of her office, waving to the other Restoration members along the way. She slid to a stop at her desk.

Just as Rouge had predicted, the stack of papers was waiting for her, with another pile already growing beside it. She sighed and sat down.

I guess it’s better that I got the sleep after all. I could never get through all of this without--

She stopped and stared at the first sheet from the previous night.

What?

The form was complete--and not in her tired, messy scrawl, either. She flipped to the next page, only to find that it, too, had been filled out with neat, decisive pen strokes.

She kept flipping pages, feeling relief and wonder fill her chest. Every form in the stack was blessedly complete--and properly, too. Whoever had done it possessed just as much weapons expertise as she did, if not more. They’d even included an extra sheet with suggestions and improvements for some of the defensive formations she’d laid out for HQ.

Amy knew that handwriting. It was the same penmanship that had written her an encouraging letter when she was sad. It matched the frosting calligraphy on the cake they’d baked together. It had spelled out a phone number for her years ago when she’d asked on a piece of paper right underneath the name “Shadow the hedgehog.”

All the emotions from the past few weeks rushed out of her. She held herself and wept silently in gratitude and relief.

I know you’re still in there somewhere. And I’m not going to give up until we get you back.

((I have more sympathy than ever for the IDW writers. I can’t stand writing him like this X_X))

#shadamy #amy rose #shadow the hedgehog #sonic the hedgehog #hc #platonic #Rouge the Bat #Cream the Rabbit

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there-must-be-a-lock · 3 years

Text

Breakfast and Bus Rides

Criminal Minds/Supernatural crossover ft. Harry Styles

Word Count: ~3030

Warnings: Egregious amounts of fluff, one gratuitous kitten, and a couple stoned rockstars. Lots of discussion of coming out and some other LGBT-adjacent issues.

A/N: A wild Plot appears! I was having some feels about coming out/honesty (hm wonder why, is a mystery) and foisted those feelings on JJ and Dean.

Thanks to @stunudo for a pre-read, endless encouragement, and the kitten scene idea.

This is part of the Rockstar AU. It picks up right where Wake-Up Calls and Watermelon leaves off.

Dean exchanges a glance with Sam, and they both hang back as the others start to gather in the kitchenette. Penelope keeps shooting wide-eyed, starstruck looks at Harry, and it’s making Dean nervous.

“You okay with this?” Dean asks quietly. “You think she’ll keep her mouth shut?”

Sam shrugs. “I can talk to her.”

“And Schroeder? I mean, love the kid to death, but holy hell does he babble.”

“Spencer’s known since the first night of tour.”

“How?”

Sam chuckles. “Kinda a funny story… tell you later. I honestly think he might’ve forgotten, though.”

“What about the rest of ‘em?” Dean asks. “I mean, I like ‘em well enough, but…”

“I want to tell them,” Sam says, without hesitating. “I’m just gonna bite the bullet and invite them all over for breakfast.”

Dean sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “You sure?”

“I trust them.”

“Okay. Just don’t want you to get hurt, Sammy.”

“What a shock,” Sam deadpans. “Dean’s pulling the protective big brother card? Alert the press.”

Dean purses his lips and gives Sam a light punch on the arm. “Bitch.”

“Don’t let Emily hear you saying that,” Sam chuckles. “Shoulda heard the lecture I got the other day about the way misogyny is perpetuated through language. Honestly, though. What do you really think is going to happen? It’s not like they’ve outed you and Cas, they’ve all been awesome about it.”

“This is different, though,” Dean says, with a grimace. “I mean, like it or not, it’d be news. The gossip rags would pay serious fuckin’ money for a picture of the two of you.”

“It’s not like we’re gonna walk around, like, fused at the mouth,” Sam laughs. “No PDA required. But… I want him to meet some of my friends. Y’know?”

“Yeah.”

“Stop worrying so much, Dean.” Sam’s expression is soft and fond, and he claps Dean on the shoulder before heading for the coffee maker and Harry.

Harry wraps himself around Sam like a giant squid, if a giant squid wore Gucci, and Dean’s chest feels tight with anxiety. The two of them are looking at each other with these stupid googly-eyed dimpled smiles. It doesn’t even count as PDA, not really, except that Sam is so godawful at hiding his feelings that he might as well be wearing a neon sign.

Then Harry starts feeding him a strawberry, and that definitely counts as PDA, if not public indecency. Gross.

If someone did take a picture of them like this, with their sleepy-eyed smiles and interlaced fingers, it’d be worth thousands of dollars. That’s a hell of an incentive. Dean’s had people fuck him over for much less.

Dean’s learned his lesson over the years. The only people you can really trust are your family.

Cas emerges from their room, blinking blearily around at everyone before coming over to Dean and leaning in for a kiss.

“Morning breath, fuck,” Dean grumbles, making a face, but he grabs Cas and pulls him in anyway.

A cheer goes up around them, and Dean sees Jack coming out of his room, clothed now, but still blushing red and shamefaced.

“What’d I miss?” Cas says, scowling, and Dean grins gleefully before launching into the story.

* * *

“I guess I just don’t see why it’s such a big deal,” Spencer says, contemplating his hand of cards. “Aside from a very vocal minority, there’s widespread support for LGBT rights, statistically, and the music industry is more progressive than most. If you look at David Bowie, for example —”

“I pass the turn,” Charlie interrupts, cutting him off before he can launch into full-on textbook mode. “It’s not really about that, though.”

Charlie forgets about the conversation for a minute as he attacks her planeswalker. She used to own her local Friday Night Magic tournaments, and she’s more than a little pissed that this skinny fucker in a sweater vest has won three of their last four games. Spencer is sneaky. Charlie can respect that, but it’s infuriating.

“Why, then?”

“Hmm? Oh, that. It’s more to do with… privacy, I guess. That’s a hell of a lot of public attention for Sam. He doesn’t want people to sing Happy Birthday to him, you know?”

“Doesn’t everybody hate being sung to?” Spencer asks pensively.

“Well, yeah. But Harry’s the sort of famous where people get totally invasive and weird about his personal life. Like, starting rumors, tabloid shit, and it extends to anyone he gets involved with.”

“Really?” Spencer downs the last of his coffee. It’s his third cup, but he hasn’t touched the plate of pancakes that’s been going cold on the table.

“Yeah. I don’t know if Sam realizes the full level of crazy at work, but Dean and I looked online, one night, after Harry brought it up. The shit people have said about his exes… about his friends, even. They’re vicious about it. Analyzing every facial expression in every picture, making up stories…”

Spencer’s forehead creases in a frown. “I play Grasp of Darkness on your Primordial Hydra and swing with all my zombies.”

“Motherfucker,” Charlie mutters. “Rematch?”

Spencer’s staring intently down at the table, lost in thought, and he doesn’t seem to hear her for a second. She chucks one of her D-20s at his face and he starts when it bounces off his forehead.

“Sorry.”

“Where’d you go?”

He hesitates before mumbling, “I had a stalker.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, she — Cat. I told her I didn’t want to sleep with her, and she didn’t like that very much.” He pauses, brow furrowed. “She learned everything about me, and I mean everything. Tried to manipulate me, tried to manipulate my friends…”

“Yikes. What happened?”

“She went to jail for a little while. She showed up when she got out, one night in Boston—” Spencer brightens. “—but Derek tackled her and threw her into the Charles River.”

“For real?”

Spencer nods and smiles in a way that makes Charlie think she’s not getting the full story. “It was a weird night.”

“So she hasn’t showed up since then?”

“No. But… I just felt like I couldn’t hide anything, like every part of me, every shitty thing I’d ever done, was under a microscope. It was awful. I’m all for being honest, you know? That’s great, in theory, but... everybody deserves the right to hide if they want to. You should be the one to decide what parts of yourself you want to share.”

Charlie thinks about the friend who outed her in high school, and how naked she felt.

“Agreed.”

* * *

Dean sits down next to Derek at the kitchen bar as he’s sealing the third joint.

“Rolling for the road?” he asks, around a mouthful of bacon. “Nicely done.”

“The key is the crutch,” Derek tells him. “Ditalini.”

“No shit? Huh.”

Derek keeps working, watching Dean, who’s watching Sam.

“Nothing to worry about here,” Derek points out gently. “You know that, right?”

Dean lets out a little self-deprecating laugh. “Sorry. Fuck. Habit, y’know? He’s my brother.”

“Oh, believe me, I know,” Derek says ruefully, glancing over at Spencer.

“Every person he tells is another person that could hurt him,” Dean says fiercely. “I fuckin’ hate that.”

“Worrying doesn’t help, though.”

Dean scowls at that, thinking for a moment as he chews, before saying, “I just wish there was a way I could help.”

“A while ago, there was this guy who went after Emily,” Derek says slowly, twisting the next joint closed. “And he didn’t hurt her bad, or anything. Spencer and JJ jumped in, and Spencer took the worst of it, because… Spencer.”

“Can’t see him being handy in a fight.”

“Try telling him that when he’s pissed. Point is, though… nobody got hurt, but I was pretty shaken up about it. Beat myself up for not being there to protect them, until my girl Penelope talked some sense into me. She said, ‘It’s not your job to keep them safe all the time. The most important thing is to make sure they know they’re safe with you.’ I think about that a lot.”

“So, what, I’m supposed to just… ignore the risk?”

“No,” Derek says patiently. “But it’s his risk to take. You being afraid isn’t going to make the world any less scary, but knowing that you’re there, that you’re proud of him, that you’ve got his back no matter what? That helps.”

Dean mulls that over. There’s a mulish set to his jaw that reminds Derek of Emily; it’s the face she makes when she knows he’s right and doesn’t want to admit it. He tries to hide his smile as he finishes rolling the last joint and offers it to Dean.

“Thanks,” Dean says gruffly.

“Any time.”

* * *

When JJ opens the bus door, she’s greeted by a cloud of weed smoke. She can see Hotch stretched out on the couch with a half-smoked joint in one hand and a battered copy of Slaughterhouse-Five in the other. He’s reading out loud, and for a moment JJ can’t figure out who he’s reading to; then she notices Pearl curled up on his chest, rubbing her tiny fuzzy head against his cheek.

It’s so goddamn cute JJ doesn’t know what to do with herself. She settles for whipping out her phone and taking a quick picture.

As she walks up the bus steps, Hotch holds out the lit joint without pausing, and she takes it happily.

JJ’s exhaling smoke, finally feeling the weird tension under her skin start to evaporate, when Rossi opens the door.

“All set,” Rossi says, giving the driver a thumbs-up.

“Did you triple-check your head count?” Hotch asks, deadpan.

“Sure did.”

“Everybody present and accounted for?” JJ adds innocently. “Spencer?”

“He’s showing off his new toy on the Winchesters’ bus.”

“Penelope?”

“Playing Sega with Charlie.”

“And Morgan?”

“Already in the back, taking a nap.”

“Emily?” Hotch presses.

“She’s in the batcave to — oh. I see.” Rossi glowers. “Very funny.”

“Are you sure you didn’t forget Spencer again?” JJ asks, giggling hoarsely around another lungful of smoke.

“It was one time,” Rossi protests, flipping them off. “You try keeping track of the kid. He’s like a squirrel. A squirrel on LSD.”

“Pretty sure it was mushrooms that day,” JJ points out.

Rossi sits down and asks thoughtfully, “Did anybody see that coming?”

“Sam? Honestly, no,” Hotch answers, frowning. “Not that it’s any of our business, but…”

“Me neither,” JJ admits.

She’s still rattled by the whole thing, for reasons she can’t quite put her finger on. It’s not about Sam, or whatever bullshit constructs of masculinity that would make people assume he’s straight just because he has muscles and dresses like a lumberjack. She’s not shocked by the label, or whatever.

“There’s someone I want you guys to meet,” Sam had told them. He tucked his hair behind his ears as he said it; it’s his tell, his nervous tic, and JJ has the poker winnings to prove it. She had wondered, for a moment, what would make him smile like that in spite of his obvious anxiety.

Dean had been glaring from the other side of the room, gauging their reactions, his arms folded and his fear written all over his face in the guise of a scowl, like a feral dog who’d been backed into a corner. JJ could understand the fear. Sam, though… Sam just looked relieved.

Hotch and Rossi are staring at her, she realizes abruptly.

“Hm?”

“I said, anything you want to do in L.A.? Plenty of time for sightseeing.”

JJ shrugs. “Not really.”

“You okay?” Rossi asks, looking at her closely.

“Yeah, just… tired. I’m gonna take that nap now.” She gives them a bright smile, passing the joint to Rossi, and gets up before they can question it.

JJ feels a little better once she’s in a spare bunk with the curtain closed. It’s easier to examine the knot in her chest like this, now that she’s alone in the dark, safe and hidden.

She keeps coming back to the smile on Sam’s face.

There was a moment, earlier, when JJ noticed Sam and Harry from across the room as they talked to Emily and Hotch. Harry had been leaning against Sam’s side. Sam’s arm was draped casually over his shoulder, and he started playing idly with Harry’s hair, combing his fingers through the messy curls at his temple as Harry tilted his head into the touch.

There was a peaceful possessiveness in it—the sort of cozy familiarity that had been worn soft by time like overwashed cotton—an unspoken claim: mine.

How long has it been since JJ felt that with someone, like their closeness was a second skin that she could wear in public?

Not since Emily. Even then it had always been tainted by fear, an overwhelming desire to hide whenever she could feel someone watching.

She and Emily are loudly affectionate with each other in public, of course: drunk and dancing, or clinging to each other as they stagger home, or kissing with an exaggerated smacking sound when anyone mutters disapprovingly in their direction. But that’s brash and performative and platonic, the sort of thing JJ could do just as comfortably with Penelope or Spencer. That’s different.

Anybody who’d seen Sam and Harry would’ve known immediately; that sort of intimacy is unmistakable, and Sam didn’t seem to care. He was smiling like he was proud to show it off.

JJ has seen it in Dean and Cas, too, but never quite so clearly. Maybe it’s because they’ve never had to hide around the Business As Usual crowd, so the contrast hasn’t drawn her attention, or maybe it’s just that they’re not demonstratively tactile in the same way. You have to know him well (and you have to be paying attention) to catch glimpses of the tenderness that Dean masks so well. He doesn’t wear his emotions on his face for everyone to see. JJ can relate.

But Sam wasn’t hiding, that morning; he was just sweet and vulnerable and proud of it and JJ realizes suddenly that she’s jealous. That’s envy squirming around in her belly.

She wants that sort of love: fearless, or maybe in spite of fear. She gets sick of hiding, sometimes.

JJ puts a pin in that thought and tells herself she can deal with it later, when she’s not quite so stoned and maudlin. Right now, it’s naptime.

* * *

Dean intended to nap all the way to Sacramento, but he only manages to doze for a half hour or so. There’s too much on his mind. He pushes groggily through the door and thinks a silent thank you at whoever got the coffee machine going.

Spencer and Jack are sitting on one couch, playing with something that Dean recognizes as a theremin. Sam’s on the other couch, and Harry and Cas are sitting at the table.

“What do you think?” Cas asks, when he notices Dean watching. He holds up two bottles of nail polish.

“Black is punk rock. Pastels are for the Easter bunny’s little sister,” Dean opines.

“Love you too, Dean Bean.” Harry shoots him a cheerful pastel-green-painted middle finger. Dean ruffles his hair affectionately on his way to sit next to Sam.

Dean’s first instinct was to scoff, to snark, to dismiss nail polish as girly, but he knows the instinct is just a vestigial memory of his dad’s stern voice. He’s been getting better at recognizing that voice, in the last few years; for a while he thought he was done with it, figuring that if he could admit he was in love with a guy, he must be over that sort of learned bullshit. Can’t be phobic if you’re one of the homos, right? So… fuck off, Dad.

Then Harry showed up, with his totally fuckin’ zen attitude about annihilating gendered fashion norms, and Dean found himself wincing, sometimes, or looking around furtively to make sure nobody was staring. Even at Bonnaroo, when Harry went around hiding behind wigs and glasses—when the entire point was for him to pass as a girl—Dean’s immediate knee-jerk reaction was to cringe. It’s taken awhile, but he’s getting better at ignoring the fear when it kicks up in his gut.

Dean’s distracted by a drawn-out melancholy squeal.

“Someone turned a taxidermied badger into a theremin one time,” Spencer says happily, as Jack waves his hand over it again. “They called it a badgermin.”

Dean snorts. “Sounds like a violin that needs an exorcism.”

“Or a Barred Owl on barbiturates,” Sam offers.

“Worn-Out-Brake-Pad flavored La Croix.”

“A whale that got so stoned it forgot how to talk.”

“One of the mermaids from Harry Potter having a wet dream,” Spencer suggests, and Cas laughs so hard he almost knocks over the bottle of nail polish.

“Get your shit together, Castiel,” Harry scolds, but he’s giggling too. It’s like being scolded by a very happy sloth. “You’re done, mate. Who’s next, hmm?”

He points at Jack, who shakes his head.

“I need to get some sleep,” he says, and the last word cracks on a yawn.

Sam grins. “Yeah, I’m guessing you didn’t get much rest last night.”

“Sweet dreams, Mr. Grey,” Dean teases, and wolf-whistles as Jack retreats. Cas relocates to the couch, giving Dean a peck on the cheek before sitting back and admiring his manicure.

Harry waves the bottle at Spencer, who doesn’t notice; he’s focused intently on the instrument, coaxing out something that actually sounds like music, in a vague, freaky kind of way.

“Yeah, okay,” Dean says, rolling his eyes and settling at the table across from a delighted Harry.

“How about a nice hot pink?” he asks.

“Don’t push your luck.”

“Wasn’t one of those used in the Doctor Who theme?” Harry asks Spencer. Spencer brightens like a big geeky Christmas tree that’s strung with lights made of useless trivia.

“Now you’ve done it,” Dean says under his breath.

“Actually, that’s a common misconception,” Spencer announces. “The original composition used—”

Dean must be going soft, because he’s actually kind of enjoying this, both the lecture and the manicure.

Then again, he thinks, Sam is enthralled, and Cas is smiling, and maybe Dean’s just really enjoying his life right now.

Fuck off, Dad, he thinks, admiring his pastel green nails.

#criminal minds fic #supernatural fic #harry styles fic #criminal minds #supernatural

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1000-directions · 7 years

Text

i almost forgot that @heartdevouring tagged me in a thing!! which is sad because i was so excited to get tagged <3

RULES : ANSWER all questions, ADD one question of your own and then TAG as many people as there are questions whoever i want cause i don’t even know 50 people on tumblr :)

i’m gonna tag at the top, because this is long. tagging people makes me so nervous, thanks anxiety!! feel free to ignore altogether. @akai-coat @bigbrotherlouis @jiksax @busy-nothings @alligatornyc @magicalrocketships @rickshawala @flora-flauna @gretawhy

live session or studio session? this is off to a bad start because i legitimately don’t understand what this question is asking! like a live recording or a studio recording of a song? i only enjoy live recordings like...while i’m there listening to it. i hate watching concert videos on youtube or whatever, and i never take photos or video at shows. i’ve been to around 80 live shows for various artists, so i love me some live music, but i still prefer to listen to the meticulously mixed and balanced music that comes from a studio session. IF THAT’S EVEN WHAT THIS IS ASKING?

coke or pepsi? i can’t drink soda because it hurts my mouth, and i don’t like fluids that much in general :( :( on the one hand, i’ve never even tasted pepsi? but i had coke exactly once and i hated it. so, neither.

disney or dreamworks? i guess disney but in a super casual “maybe i’ll watch ‘cinderella’ one more time someday” way and not like “i wanna get married at disney AND go there for my honeymoon AND go back every single year and never visit anywhere else ever disney disney disney” way.

coffee or tea? i love them both so much in so many varieties. if i had to choose, i would choose coffee, but i wouldn’t turn down either. i’ve been drinking a lot of taro milk tea lately and it’s fucking amazing.

books or movies? lol i’m one of those jerks who’s like “i’m too busy to read a book!!!!!!!!” but i have no problem getting through a 100k fic in one weekend. okay actually, i feel like these days i don’t super love books OR movies, i just love fanfic and tv shows, and that’s because both of them give you sooooooo much backstory and characterization, and you get to spend so much time living with them in a way you don’t get from a movie. that being said, when i was a kid i used to stay up reading in the bathroom with a flashlight until 3am like every night. i am a lapsed book lover.

windows or mac? mac

dc or marvel? ugh i love the old campy batman show, it was an important part of my childhood and my weird relationship with my father. and i LOVED “lois and clark: the new adventures of superman.” so i love that sort of nostalgia feeling i get from dc. actually you know what, i was gonna hedge and say dc for old stuff and marvel for new stuff, but i’m going dc regardless, because i’m not super into all the new marvel properties anyway. dc, final answer. batgirl could get it.

xbox or playstation? the last game system i played was a super nintendo, but i was always more of a sega genesis gal tbh

night owl or early riser? because of my schedule and my shitty decision-making, it ends up being both. i sleep like four hours each night :/

cards or chess? i’ll go cards, but i am probably garbage at both

chocolate or vanilla? like, you can’t ruin anything by adding a really beautiful freshly scraped vanilla bean to it, whereas there is a lot of extremely shitty chocolate in the world. or, i guess mostly in america, we’re pretty shit at chocolate :(

vans or converse? converse. i have like seven pairs of chucks right now, though most of them are falling apart.

star wars or star trek? star trek: the next generation. omg it’s on netflix??? i’m gonna marathon the hell out of that 🙃

one episode per week or marathoning? MARATHON. my attention span is too short to keep up with something i only see once a week.

gandalf or obi-wan? i literally don’t care at all

heroes or villains? i don’t know, just be nice?

john williams or hans zimmer? i have no opinion about this

disneyland/disney world or six flags? i kind of hate all theme parks, but i really especially hate disney theme parks because i think it’s a huge scam. it’s expensive as shit, and there’s this creepy mythology around it where we brainwash kids into wanting to go there before they even understand wtf it is, and you’re not a good parent if you don’t take your kids there, and it’s EXPENSIVE AS SHIT, and you wait in lines for ten million hours, unless you hire a kid in a wheelchair to pretend to be your kid so you can cut lines (this is a real thing, people are fucking monsters). it’s just extremely unappealing to me, but the corporation seems to be doing okay without my support. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

forest or sea? i like hiking and i don’t like swimming, so let’s go forest. however, i love birds, but i REALLY love fucking weird deep sea creatures, so this is tough. i don’t wanna go for a swim or anything, but i would get in some kind of boat and look at weird fucking rays and anemonefish and shit like that.

flying or reading minds? when i was a kid, i legitimately thought people could read my mind, and it was The Worst, so let’s go with flying. so i can hang out with birds :)

twin peaks or northern exposure? never seen northern exposure, so twin peaks

harry potter or lord of the rings? i really liked the lotr books and really did not care about the lotr movies. i am not super passionate about harry potter books or movies, but i fucking love one direction harry potter AUs, so let’s go potter. i found out today that my patronus is a chow dog.

cake or pie? both both both but if i have to choose i would pick pie but also both both both

you are banished to a desert island, which benedict cumberbatch character would you choose to take with you? THIS IS MY FAVORITE QUESTION IN THE WHOLE THING. BECAUSE. THIS MEANS I GET TO BE ON AN ISLAND WITH VICTORIAN SCIENTIST JOSEPH FUCKING HOOKER. DARWIN’S BEST FRIEND!!!!!!! he could teach me about plants, and then we could gossip about darwin and huxley!!!!! omg i want it so bad

train or cruise ship? i would rather drive, but i guess a train is fine.

brian cox or neil degrasse-tyson? neil. he can be Too Much, but i like that he’s actively trying to defend science in a mainstream, accessible way.

wizard of oz or alice in wonderland? i’ve never made it all the way through wizard of oz because i was too scared of the flying monkeys :(

fanfiction or fanart? i am more into fic personally but good on you for creating something whatever it is <3

the hunger games - books or movies? books

be able to see the future or travel into the past? fuck the future, i wanna hang out with dinosaurs and/or victorian scientists

han solo or luke skywalker? yeah i don’t care. princess leia.

lilacs or sunflowers? omg don’t get me started on plants, i love em!!! turning sunlight into food, little legends :’)

spring or autumn? spring is good but it only lasts for about 14 seconds around here. we pretty much go from “ahhhhh it’s too cold!!!” straight into “ahhhhh it’s too hot!!!!”

campfire or fireplace? campfire 🔥🔥

french fries or onion rings? fries

truth or dare? truth. i’m pretty open about most things, but i ain’t doing shit and you can’t make me :) :)

winter or summer? i kinda hate them both. summer is too hot for me. but in winter, you have snow, which is the worst. and then you bundle up to go outside but when you get inside the heat is BLASTING and you’re overdressed for it, so winter ends up being too hot for me, too :( i’m always too hot :( :(

vampires or werewolves? vampire tv shows, werewolf one direction aus

red or blue? GREEN

eyes or lips? idk i mean they both serve an important purpose, i’d like to keep both

burgers or sandwiches? i don’t eat meat so let’s go sandwiches

friends-to-lovers or enemies-to-lovers trope? i guess friends to lovers but as long as louis is loved and cherished and gets everything he wants then i don’t care how it started

pizza or pasta? eating pasta right now :)

ancient rome or ancient greece? omg don’t make me choose. classical languages and civilizations and mythology, my first ever academic passion <3 guess who’s read the odyssey in three languages THIS GUY (guess who doesn’t remember any language except for english anymore, also this guy)

foxes or wolves? FOXES!! fennec foxes!! darwin’s foxes!! arctic foxes!! all the lil foxes

mermaids or dragons? MERMAIDS. EXTREMELY MERMAIDS. the only reason i even started liking louis tomlinson is because i read a fic where he was a mermaid, but that’s a story for another day.

sci-fi or fantasy? ahhhhh don’t make me choose. gimme all the dystopian societies

watch a film in theaters or at home? going to the theater sounds exhausting, i’m good right here

fireproof or no more sad songs? fireproof, on account of louis tomlinson rolling and rolling until he changes his luck, which is basically my mantra

bands or individual singers? individual singers within bands

sweet or salty? if i only get one, i’ll choose salty, but i want both. both together!! salted caramel!!! cheese and caramel popcorn mixed in a bag together!! chocolate covered pretzels!!!!

monotype corsiva or comic sans? both of these make me itchy. BUT. i’m gonna go with the dreaded comic sans BUT ONLY BECAUSE i read a thing once that people with dyslexia have an easier time reading it, and i’m on board with it from an accessibility standpoint ONLY.

my question: turtles or frogs? i know this is tough because they are both so awesome <3

#i got tagged for a thing!!#story of my life

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