#you are going to learn that I cannot write anything outside of an essay

[sweettjrose]

Quick question for you cuz you seem to know very well the little guy

Do you think Mickey has any bad sides? Bad qualities/Habits

Ooh! I was hoping someone would ask this question. It was sitting in my mind for a while. I love sharing my thoughts on this little guy.

I do think it is important to remember that when it comes to characters like Mickey it can be challenging to ascribe specific traits to him since there are so many interpretations with differing personalities. Mickey in the black and white shorts is different from Mickey in the Gottfredson comics who is different from Mickey in the Paul Rudish shorts and etc. So some traits may fit better for some versions than others.

I don't know if I can say I am the Mickey expert. But I do think about him a lot and if I came up a list of what I think are bad habits or flaws that he has, based on how is generally portrayed and my own personal interpretation, I would say:

Stubborn - To start off, I feel like a common flaw for Mickey is his stubbornness. Once he sets his mind on a certain idea or situation, he has a hard time being convinced of anything else. It can be really difficult to change his mind, though not impossible. I don't think it comes from a place of seeing himself as better than anyone though, but rather from his desire to hold fast to what he believes in. And in some cases, it can have beneficial results. Such as when he is investigating some kind of mystery he tends to drop everything else, unable to change focus until he finally solves it. This usually gives him the push to solve problems most people give up on. But unfortunately, it tends to result in him ignoring the world around him which can be frustrating at times, especially for Minnie. Sometimes I think Mickey even uses these situations as an excuse to push aside things he doesn't want to do and focus on something he would much rather do.

Untamed Curiosity - I feel like this is actually an offshoot of his earlier personality. He was much more mischievous in his earlier appearances, but that was somewhat tamed over the years. However, I do think one element that has remained is this mouse's curiosity for the unknown. It seems like Mickey can't help himself but stick his nose into things he probably shouldn't. Whether it is listening to a conversation, checking a locked room, testing out a weird machine, or even following an odd feeling. I also feel like his stubbornness doesn't really help as it seems like once a curiosity is in his focus, he can't let it go. Mickey rarely likes to cause problems, but if his curiosity overtakes him, he usually ends up being a troublemaker. Sometimes this usually leads to him catching a crook. But other times it results in a big mess that he would have to clean up. I do think though that his mischievousness isn't entirely gone and does pop up every once in a while. Especially when trying to get out of things he finds boring or doesn't want to be in. And sometimes he just wants to be a prankster and have fun with his friends and family. Which is funny until things get out of hand.

Overthinks - Mickey is very intelligent and can come up with pretty clever plans when trying to solve problems. Unfortunately, this comes with the side effect of him overcomplicating even simple situations. This is usually why Goofy is such a vital friend for Mickey. Mickey tends to come up with complex solutions while Goofy tends to show the easier option Mickey tends to overlook. I think part of this does come from Mickey being afraid of being wrong and making mistakes, so he tries his best to be as thorough as he can be, which unfortunately can lead to more mistakes.

Lack of Self-Protection - One positive about Mickey is that he cares about others and would stand up to protect them. But unfortunately, this doesn't always extend to himself. He is not a doormat but tends to lean more "Turn the other Cheek" approach when he is the only one getting bullied (unless things go too far or if others get involved). To be fair, it is important to know when to pick your battles, but this tends to lead into other areas as I feel like he doesn't really share his problems and tends to keep personal issues to himself. I personally see him as the kind of guy you really have to pry to get him to talk about what he is feeling as he would much rather bottle it up to not cause any trouble. I also feel like he rarely is one to ask for help and tends to try and solve it all on his own, especially if he is worried that others may get hurt. The issue is, he doesn't seem to worry about whether he would get hurt.

Takes on Too Much - I also feel like this connects to another flaw as he tends to take on too much and constantly puts himself in risky situations. Whenever a life-threatening situation comes up that could help everyone but is extremely dangerous, he is usually the first in line to do it. It feels like Mickey doesn't even consider his own safety or limitations at all. Sometimes it feels like he is overconfident in his abilities and just believes that he will be okay, which works until it doesn't. It also doesn't help that Mickey has a hard time saying "No", so even if he didn't want to do something or knows he is not capable of doing it, he would probably still do it, not wanting to disappoint anyone. He rarely thinks of himself. And seldom considers what would be best for him. Usually, his friends are the ones to think about his safety and needs.

Need to be Perfect - Though I feel like part of the reason Mickey takes on so much is his need to be the hero. He feels like he has to be a perfect, selfless, and brave role model who does everything without a single complaint. I feel like he overexerts himself because he is afraid of what happens if he doesn't. He is afraid of not being needed or wanted. He is usually the underdog, a small mouse in a world with characters twice his size, and if he isn't constantly proving himself people will leave him behind. I also feel like he has a hard time admitting to mistakes (which connects to his stubbornness) because he feels like he can't make mistakes, or that would show that he isn't as capable as people think. I also think this explains why he has more of a heated rivalry with Mortimer. Mortimer somehow taps into his insecurities in the ways others don't. I feel like Mickey is kind of jealous of Mortimer because he tends to be taken seriously (at first) while Mickey usually needs to earn it. I also kind of wonder if he is worried that if he starts messing up, Minnie and the others will leave him for someone like Mortimer, so he feels like he can't mess up. Ever.

Lack of Self Worth - Unfortunately this means that he is very reliant on others for his self-worth. Luckily Mickey is really good at making friends. But he tends to rely on the existence of his friends for his worth. I can imagine that if for some reason they all stopped existing, I don't think he would even know what to do with himself. While he doesn't need everyone to like him. He does need at least one person to like him to help ground him or I can see him going into a deep depression. I feel like he would really struggle with being alone for too long unless there was some hope of being able to be with his loved ones soon.

But yeah these are the bad qualities that I feel like Mickey generally has. There are probably more, especially ones more specific to certain interpretations, but these are the ones I was able to come up with. As nice as Mickey is, he isn't perfect and his insecurities, overthinking, stubbornness, and curious nature tend to get him in trouble. But fortunately, he is also just as capable of getting out of trouble.

I would honestly love to see other people thoughts on this as well.

#mickey mouse #mickey thoughts #you are going to learn that I cannot write anything outside of an essay #but this was fun to write #i love the little guy #disney #ask #answered

[inchidentally]

https://x.com/landosparadise/status/1747644657398419506?s=20

I'm starting to believe in the power of your essays because in a strange way they reflect reality :)

landosparadise twitter

oh babe listen, the fact that I cannot contain myself is not that I'm trying to infect others I promise <3 what anyone can take from quotes like these is that it isn't wrong to take all of the concrete things we've seen and read about Lando and Oscar's partnership and decide that a whole lot of mutual respect and even fondness is clearly there. and that they communicate pretty damn well and that's helped not a little by being basically the same age and sharing a lot of similarities as people. and by not leaping to the whole bromance thing and having to maintain that image, and neither of them being typical "alpha" types, there's a solid hope for their partnership not turning sour. those are very sweet conclusions that can be drawn without me writing any kind of parasocial essays! that's the best part for me, that I can have my fun and everything but truly at it's core there's a reason why the Lando and Oscar partnership is so exciting to every kind of McLaren fan.

.

.

BUT SINCE YOU SEEMED TO BE EVEN REMOTELY ASKING… (comedic trombone sound)

this part especially drives me insane.

when asked whether he was able to learn anything from his rookie teammate. "Keeping calm and being yourself, it's good to be reminded of that."

bc Lando loves and respects specific things about all of his F1 buddies. and it was a no-brainer that he learned a lot from his older, more established teammates (esp Carlos who basically found Lando in a basket outside his driver's room door). but all of those guys have either been his friends for years or he's known of them/interacted with them for years. but then Oscar arrives as this unknown and he's so mature for his age and doesn't seem easily fazed. and not only does he not demand that Lando help him out he also doesn't try to ingratiate himself with Lando to help out his own image (and remember, Oscar was enemy number one with McLaren, Alpine and Daniel Ricciardo fans - and still is for some of them). didn't try to launch a bromance the way most of these partnerships do (with varying success).

he did the most jarring, unlikely thing ever: he stepped back, fully embraced his role as the number 2 driver, accepted whoever Lando decided to be, and let Lando determine the relationship. he showed up and celebrated every high Lando had without fail. Lando was handed unconditional respect and he got it from a teammate who himself has refused to pander or be insincere. Oscar risks looking boring or withdrawn rather than dance. and he's shown nothing but respect - and fondness! - for the kaleidoscope of personality that Lando is.

because!

Oscar was a Lando fanboy for 8 years! Oscar knew Lando before meeting Lando in a way no one else in racing has! Oscar is not Just a Guy he watches, he listens, he cares! Oscar doesn't seem to have a lick of toxic masculinity about him and all of the F1 elders who know him say what an old soul he is and how mature he is!

and we know already that Lando felt he learned things from Oscar in a racing sense. so for Lando to go so far as to say that his rookie teammate helped remind him how to stay true to himself is just !! especially considering that their personalities have equally been a source of being misunderstood in ways that are often extremely infuriating.

also, Oscar complements so much about Lando in terms of how they approach their careers and media duties and racing and I think in a lot of ways Lando doesn't fully know how to feel about that? bc Lando's someone who can blur the lines between a person being helpful to him and someone he needs in his life. each year we get that adorable dinner photo of all the people who've supported Lando's career for the past 10 years. so to find himself pinging back and forth so well with Oscar's approach to all those things, there's got to be a concern of "am I going to start needing this guy in my life too?" it's way too early for that to be a major concern of course but I feel like it could be there.

"better than I feel like I remember I was when I started" "I think that is something that I've gotten a lot better with over the years - I know how to deal with all of these things much better myself now. I have a lot of respect for Oscar in how he was able to stay so calm in a new environment, in Formula 1, on the big stage."

okay this part !! bc I remember the anon I got who meticulously pointed out how Lando has been doing for Oscar what he remembers wishing he'd had for himself when he started out in F1. and that as Alex Albon said it's not really the natural M.O. of a more experienced driver to mentor a competitor or a teammate. it's not team sports - each driver is there to beat everyone else, esp their teammate as they're essentially driving the same car. but Lando's soft heart !! Lando's not like everyone else!

and that's the thing I always make sure to state is that while Carlos and Daniel were both definitely overwhelmed at times over how much Lando needs to have that tender connection with the men in his life - and have it above all else - they weren't doing him wrong at all by placing their own performance in F1 above him. they're what honestly every other guy in F1 is. and Alex is honestly probably one of the most empathetic, soft-hearted guys on the current grid so for him to say it's not in his responsibilities to nurture another driver is pretty definitive as a rule - especially bc he ended up doing that to some degree with Logan (the 'seeing myself in him' explains that a lot). but yeah, Lando's warm soft heart overruling his racing driver head is extremely unusual in F1. like basically unheard of.

and while it's so much healthier that Carlos and Daniel became the good friends that they did and specifically NOT Lando's teammates, I wrote this whole thing about how Lando went into the partnership with Oscar unusually guarded. not only was he clearly unsure about the idea of being the older and experienced teammate, he definitely wasn't interested in leaping into another bromance only to discover that the other guy has the exact same bromance with about five other dudes in his life.

Lando doesn't at all seem do that - at least from a fandom distance, he seems to form unique friendships with each person in his life. he may be a will-o-wisp person and be difficult to pin down and get hold of sometimes, but the people he decides to form a relationship with are locked into that for good (from what we can tell). he'll do the bromance bit with Carlos and Daniel that they want but he also demanded that he have some specific definition among all their other friends.

Lando is a ✧Me✧ and if you don't want to respect that then you don't get to have his time. I think it's even why he has a joking "rivalry" with some of his friends' girlfriends. bc - and I emphasize this is all humorous and not serious - there's a little bit of a rivalry for attention there! Lando seem to kinda end up making men in love with him in some way (paternal, brotherly, friendship, confused and horny, etc). he meets them and they're kinda fucked up about him forever in some way. dudes especially tend to clump their friends by category and hang out in groups apart from maybe one super close best friend. but it seems like Lando can't be lumped in with anybody else. he's almost like the unattainable hot girl who's a model and also independently wealthy and also a gamer and also F1 superstar that guys just desperately want to orbit as closely as they're allowed. if she says 'wanna hang out' they'd leave their grandma's funeral and rush over.

so like, all of Lando's complexities and the uniqueness of his career and his weird and usually frenetic personal journey considered - I'm just slightly insane over the fact that he said Oscar helped him remember to just be himself and to try to find calm out in the circus. what a wonderful thing to say about someone you've only known for a year and who hasn't in any way pushed for a relationship beyond what you want from them.

#inchreplies #sorry lol #big shock I get weird #inchidentallyanessay #landoscar lore

[gildedcigarettes]

my absolute adoration of learning and education and developing academic skills vs the ennui of my schooling... like outside of the social aspect just the assignments assessments deadlines for multiple choice quizzes emailing forgetting to do an essay until rushing right before the deadline makes me think what are we doing here.. shocker somebody dislikes homework i know but there are people who thrive in this environment and i get it and im happy for them i'm just speaking personally to put myself through these motions and for what? no guaranteed creative success comes from graduation(and why should i pretend to want anything else) i'm talking non STEM here but you shouldve assumed that. i loveeeeeeeeee education. but i love not being in debt too. and i could be reading and watching and writing out on that open road............ but i also need to make a living and a friend.... academic circles...... connections and obviously yyy i am not writing this from the perspective of going to harvard or even any quality university there are so many great ones people tell me about known or otherwise AND unfortunately I Cannot evaluate experiences i havent had....... and i'm starting to think i can't and that it's okay that i can't thrive in that environment.. ❗️SO i can try to whip myself into shape and get into a higher quality university and build connections or a career or happiness love and freedom through there or i can gather my camera s and my pens and my thriftbooks and go make something of myself there. you see the bind i'm in..

[local-redhead-bookworm]

I could write a college level essay on why Billy’s dynamic with Karen was all different kinds of messed up, and I will. Buckle in. TW: this will contain discussions of grooming and child abuse, as well as allusions to child sexual abuse throughout.

Billy’s life has been void of motherly affection ever since his own mother left him with Neil. This alone would be enough to cause some very conflicting feelings about women, but pair it with the way Neil talks about women (e.g., referring to Billy’s date as a whore, constantly making Susan subordinate to him), and of course Billy is going to have a messy relationship with women in general (e.g., he refers to the high school girls as “cows” and “bitches”). A large part of Billy’s complicated dynamic with women is the fact that in the 80s and even today, men are taught that the only relationships they can have with women are 1. In a mother-son dynamic, or 2. In a sexual/romantic relationship. Billy’s birth mother abandoned him and his stepmother stands by while his father beats him, so that rules out any real motherly relationship in his life.

Enter Karen, the good-looking mom who sets her sights on Billy. She knows Billy is Nancy’s age, as when she first meets him she says “You must be here for Nancy.” I cannot stress this enough, he only flirted with her for information, to save himself from getting beaten if he went home without Max. It’s obvious that he didn’t enjoy the flirting because as soon as he gets inside the car, he doesn’t look satisfied or like he had a good time. He’s resigned. The same thing is true with the pool moms.

As soon as he’s not looking at them, the smile drops. His every move at the pool shows how aware he is that he is on display, but he will take any form of affection he can get. His father beats him, his stepmother stands idly by, his little sister injected him with who knows what and threatened to put a nail bat through his balls. No one at home is safe for him.

So at this point surely we all know how much Karen resembles Billy’s mom. The most obvious thing is they’re both blonde. But of course, Karen must have been bringing Holly to these swimming lessons Billy was apparently giving to the kids. So he will see how much Karen dotes on her little girl. To Billy’s outside perspective, Karen is a good mom. And if there’s one thing we learned about Billy in s3, it’s that this boy loved his mom and missed her so much.

When Billy proposed that Karen meet him at the pool, I doubt he was actually hoping she would agree. This is something I’ve discussed with a few of my mutuals, but it seems like he wants Karen to turn him down. He wants her to make the right decision. Even how he dresses for his date with Karen is far different than how he dressed for his date in s2. In s2, his dress shirt was unbuttoned almost all the way down, but in s3, he wears a white t shirt that comes up very high. He spends the entire drive hyping himself up and practicing lines.

Perhaps the worst thing about this entire mess is how resigned Billy is to it all. He’s resigned to Karen’s flirting in s2, he’s resigned to the fact that she was pursuing him for nine months, leading me to classify her behavior as grooming. These women memorized his work schedule and constantly showed up at his work, which is stalking. At only 18, he’s already accustomed to using his body to get what he wants, including something as essential to his well-being as positive attention. And I don’t want to hear that “Karen never actually did anything!” Stalking a teenaged boy for nine months is plenty.

Billy was a teenaged boy starved of any form of affection and had to resort to objectifying himself to get attention. That does not mean that all these women, especially Karen, should have been coming to the pool to watch him. Billy was an abused child looking for a mother to love him and Karen took advantage of his loneliness for her own personal gain. She’s not a girlboss, she’s a child predator.

#stranger things #billy hargrove #tw abuse #tw grooming #tw child predator #not a karen wheeler friendly post #Karen wheeler apologists you are not welcome here #my posts

[berryunho]

omg i know how u feel i don't think i'll be graduating in 4 bc i have to do co-op terms so it delays my grad by a year or smth?? we'll see how things go

wow that's so cool!! the dedication is immaculate i would always give up after a month or so. do you know any other languages aside from eng and korean?

ooo i'm kinda the opposite like nothing really interests me outside of courses in my major or other science courses. i've gotta do some arts credits and scrolling thru them is like... okay this sounds interesting then i read the syllabus and its like readings and essays and discussion groups then im like NOPE LOL BYE

that's so funny cause i saw someone sleeping in a corner of the stairs. ppl will sleep anywhere and i don't blame them. could you imagine falling asleep near the river ugh bless

omg yes like with chem i always end up working backwards from the answer (wink wonk) to see what i did wrong and usually it's a lot 😭

it wasn't too bad! it was kinda cold but not windy so i was okay. i still brought a jacket with me cause it was windy af during the day and i thought it'd be the same at night but nope there goes my money for coat check 😭

ohh!! that sounds fun, did you manage to find anything? red hair is so nice. everyone i've seen so far with red hair pulls it off so well and i'm lowkey convinced it's a colour that works on everyone....

thank you!! i did have lots of fun : D i might've died on the bus ride back... but we don't talk abt it..........

-mightychondria

yeahhh i have to get a masters degree for the profession im aiming for so... if everything goes to plan that's six years of university and i do NOT want it to be more 😭😭 hopefully your graduation doesn't get delayed too much ??

:LKFJDKFSJD:LFKJ oh boy languages and me... lowkey obsessed w learning them SO one set of my grandparents were german and didnt speak english so i know very basic german (my dad didnt think it was important to teach me. crying screaming throwing up.) and i got to be pretty okay at finnish at one point but i've forgotten ALL of it lol and i took 2 years of latin in highschool which was very fun but again i forgot most of it KLFJSFDLJK AND FINALLY i took a couple years of american sign language in middle school but i literally remember the alphabet and basic kindness' :'] ive also attempted swedish, norwegian, spanish, and french with ... immediate failure ! hehe

i get what you mean 😭for me its not that i dislike my stem courses but i actually love reading and writing essays and stuff and i just wish i could do more of that 😭 but the majority of my stem friends definitely would agree w you LOL

ugh for real it would be so nice to sleep outside in the sun i feel like ... living out that cat/dog life ... but id be too scared of being kidnapped LKJJFSKFJKS

that is definitely the way to do chem 😭 just gotta learn from your mistakes until there are none ! i had an exam last friday and ... i should be getting that grade tonight or tomorrow so im very anxiously waiting to see how i did ...

nooooo not the coat check money... i cannot even imagine how much clubs make in the winter just from coat check like 😭 some nights at one of my local clubs its literally more expensive to check your coat than to get in 😭

sadly i still havent figured out who/what to be... i think im gonna wait to dye my hair though so that it lasts longer ... so i really dk LOL im lazy tbh so i normally go for something i can just wear my normal clothes for... and since i just finished breaking bad im thinking maybe jane ??? i dress like her irl (though less 2008) and id just need a wig LKJFS:LDJKF BUT IDK !!! do you have any costumes in mind? or any plans?

hehe im glad you had fun but ... 👀 ... how ominous ... hehe i hope your week starts off nicely !! :]

#mightychondria anon #answered

[nightowlwriting]

summary: steve is acting weird. avoiding you, being snippy and mean, leaving the room when you enter. all you want is your boyfriend back, but all he wants is to pretend you don't exist. when he's almost hurt on a mission, you do what you're made to do.

word count: 11k

reader specifics: no race/gender/sexuality/body type mentioned, no pronouns for reader used, powered!reader, insecure!reader

warnings: steve is mean to the reader in the beginning, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, canon-level violence, brief ptsd symptoms, slight description of blood, brief mention of racism in the '30s & '40s

brief mentions of: reader's parents being toxic, homelessness, past accidents, ableism in the past & present

note: this one hurt me lmfao. idk why this went the way it did but i'm not mad at it // also i am a queer, trans, disabled american. i have fundamental disagreements with things that marvel/the mcu as it stands for and some of the more nuanced things that you might not notice unless you're looking for it. this will take place in my writing because i cannot separate myself from the lens in which i consume/create content.

title credit: lil nas x

mobile masterlist - request - support my work? - ao3

Falling in love with Steve Rogers went against every instinct you had. You knew that he was going to hurt you from the first moment your lips touched his. Sure - he’s clever, righteous, courteous… You can’t forget he’s also drop-dead gorgeous because every trashy gossip magazine in a three-state radius of New York doesn’t let you forget. Neither does the sight of him waking up in your bed every morning. (Well, actually, maybe that would remind you if he was still fucking doing that.)

But lately, you’ve had to rely on the fucking tabloids to catch a glimpse of your super-hero boyfriend. The university class you had picked up on a whim at the end of the summer - Life & Times of the ‘30s and ‘40s - avoids any mention of Steve Rogers and the Howling Commandos. Not that your classmates do because, Christ on a bike, those magazines manage to catch pictures of you and Steve in moments that you don’t even remember. Plus, you’re an Avenger too. It’s bound to catch some attention when you waltz into a college classroom.

You’re sure if you were an undergrad trying to fill a gen-ed requirement and were sitting next to someone who could kill you without blinking but also dating Captain Rogers you’d be a little distracted too. You try not to blame your classmates too much, but they do make it hard to concentrate with their -really dating Captain America?- and -wonder if I could get an autograph- whispers. None of that matters because you’re learning, really studying, in between missions and missing Steve and believing that maybe the gossip reporters are right.

Maybe he’s forgotten about you.

You grit your teeth and push the thought away. It does you no good right now, while you’re training with Peter. He’s working his way up to bona fide missions and, because you’re the only one on the team who has experience with real-life teenagers outside of saving their lives, it’s up to you to get him to the level that he needs to be. Plus, the mission where he’s going to get his gills wet is just you, Tony, Steve, Nat, and Bucky. You’d much rather be the one to train him because you won’t traumatize him.

Right now, though, you’re just kicking his ass to try and get rid of some of the tension in your body. You feel a little bad about it, but when you started as his mentor you told him point-blank that you’d never go easy on him. That meant if you were having a bad day he either needed to up his game or he’d have a bad day too. It appears he’s taken that to heart as he struggles to dodge the hits you’re throwing his way. He lunges out of the way when you try to land a right hook but practically walks into the leg sweep that sends him crashing to the ground.

“Awe,” Peter groans, letting his guard down. You take the momentary lapse of focus to grab him by the collar of the hoodie he’s wearing and haul him to his feet, jerking one fist back to cold-clock him but he beats you to it. You hear the sound of your nose cracking before you feel it but then the pain rushes you all at once. You’ve had worse but coming from Peter, the move surprises you. You don’t yell out but he does when you push him away from you and call the fight off. Peter practically yelps your name, hands up by his head as he watches you bend at the waist, both hands over where your nose is absolutely gushing blood. “I am so sorry, I just reacted-!”

“It’s fine, Pete,” You shake your head and stand straight again, the blood beginning to leak through your fingers, “Just go get me a towel, okay?” Peter practically trips over his feet to get something for your nose and as you track him on his way into the locker rooms, you see Steve, Bucky, and Nat. The latter are looking your way, eyebrows raised like they’re asking you if you’re okay. Steve hasn’t even broken stride in his conversation so you wave them off with a bloody hand. Peter’s back in a flash, pressing a wet towel into your grasp and snapping you out of your self-pity party. “It was a good hit,” You compliment as you wipe your face off, “I just wasn’t expecting it. Prob’ly wouldn't have landed it if I had.”

He wrings his hands, shifting from foot to foot. “I’m sorry-”

“It’s a good thing, Peter, means you’re getting better.” You deadpan, checking to see if your nose has stopped bleeding yet, “I don’t think you actually broke it, but I’ll go down to medical to check later.” You do your best to clean up your hands with the wet towel, but it’s so soaked with your blood that it mostly just smears it around. You grimace and shake your head. “Well, I should go now before our sparring match ends up looking like I murdered you.”

“I’ll go with,” He offers, “I’m the one who broke your nose.” You let Peter walk you down to medical even though you were originally going to refuse. Perhaps petty, but it was the way that Steve didn’t even look your way as you left that made you let the teenager walk you the two floors to where you’d be able to clean yourself up. He hums in the elevator and you know that he wants to ask you something - it’s the way he holds his mouth when he’s prying for information or keeping a secret that tips you off. Finally, just before the elevator opens, you sigh and turn to him.

“What, Peter?” He grins but then it falls when he has to skitter after you down the hall. Maybe that’s why it falls - the question he asks next nearly sends you to your ass.

“Is everything okay with you and Captain Rogers?” He easily catches up to you when you stop in your tracks, ignoring that you’re still bleeding a little bit down your face and you might be dripping blood everywhere from where it’s run down your arms.

“What?” You do your best to look confused like everything is fine, but Peter is perceptive. He may fumble around and be pretty awkward, but those are really just teenager things that he’ll hopefully outgrow. You should have known that when someone caught onto how bad things are on your end, it would be Peter. (You wonder if Nat or Bucky has brought it up with Steve, considering he’s spent more time with them in the past week than he’s seen you in the past month.) “We’re fine.” Your words are stilted as you begin walking to the medical wing much faster than before.

“I just thought I’d ask, well, because I’ve sort of noticed… Something just seems off, you know? Like, you two used to spend a lot of time together, and maybe it’s the recon mission coming up, but I was just thinking that you two really barely look at each other even when you’re in the same -”

“Peter!” You say his name much louder than either of you expected and both of you jump. “Peter,” You say softer, looking at the glass door to the medical wing instead of him, “Just leave it, okay? It’s nothing you have to worry about, kid.” Peter ducks around to open the door, forcing you to look at him. “He’s just focused on his stuff and I’m focused on getting you whipped into shape for this mission. We only have two days.” Once you’re inside and surrounded by the medical crew Tony keeps on staff, he thankfully drops it. You love Peter, you do, but it’s a lot like having a little brother. You can only love them so much before you want to fucking strangle them. Eventually, as the doctor checks to make sure he hasn’t broken your nose, you have to order him away to go study or something. “I’ll join you later,” You promise him as the doctor prods at your tender flesh, “I have an essay due soon.”

That’s another thing that’s been bugging you that Peter surely picked up on. Nearly everybody knew you were taking a course at the local community college, but nobody knew what it was about. You’d wanted to keep it a secret until you told Steve, but the day you had registered he’d flown out for a two-week mission without telling you or saying goodbye. After that, you decided it didn’t really matter if anyone knew what class you were taking, and keeping it a secret sort of spiraled from there. If they wanted to know they could look it up. Maybe it was petty, but you just wanted the class to be over and done with so you could forget that you really only picked it up so you relate to your boyfriend more.

If you can even call Steve your boyfriend anymore. You’re not so sure where you stand and, honestly, you’re really close to giving up on the relationship as a whole but you can’t do that. Before you were dating, you were friends, and Steve… He never gave up on you. Not once. How could you repay him by giving up on your relationship? The one that you thought was The One? Even if it hurts, even if you’re unsure more than sure these days, how could you? Somewhere, though, you know you deserve better. You don’t deserve the sinking, dark feeling that lingers in your gut for most of your days now or the way that you second-guess every move you make - even in the field. It’s dangerous but you can’t do anything to fix it.

You’re too scared. You know that eventually, it will happen, he’ll break up with you, but you’d like to put that day off for as long as possible. To relish in the love he once had for you, how pure and powerful it was. You’re sure that you’ll never experience anything like that again.

Hell, you might never fall in love again.

Those thoughts don’t do anything to help you, though, so you try not to have them. You get clearance from the doctor and get cleaned up as much as you can without taking a full body shower. The idea to go back to your room and take one crosses your mind but you know that Steve’s probably done training, probably heading back for his own shower, and you don’t want to open that can of worms. Instead, you go to the common room and drop into the couch between Peter and Tony. They’re talking about something something science something something, but you pull your stack of books and notebooks out from the shelf underneath the coffee table and continue outlining your essay from where you left off. The assignment was focused on how the end of WW1 changed American life and then how life changed leading up to and during WW2 but that had hit a little too close to home for you, so you’re writing about the racial tension and overall racism of the times. Tony and Peter keep talking over your back and then you hear footsteps heading toward the common room.

You barely look up when they enter - Nat and Bucky - because it’s fine. It’s normal. They’re just two of Steve’s best friends, that’s all, nothing to be jumpy about. You don’t even register that emotional pain that hits when you realize that, yeah, you’re not one of his best friends anymore. You doubt you’re even considered a friend in his book.

You groan and lean back into the couch, bringing your study materials with you. Peter glances over, skimming over your page and a half of shorthand, and gags. “Jesus, can you write like a normal person?”

“Oh, sorry,” You say lazily, not looking up as you continue to scribble in your incomprehensible code, “I do forget that some of us had privacy at home.” You lift your lips just a little bit to let Peter know you’re kidding, looking up at him through your lashes as you slouch next to him. He looks red in the face. “Besides, once you have to start doing mission reports you’ll be begging me to learn my shorthand and use my stenography machine.”

“I keep telling you that I can update that ol’ thing,” Tony draws your attention. For the first time, you realize that Nat and Bucky are on the loveseat looking at you expectantly. Steve is standing in the corner over their shoulder reading a book from the bookshelf in front of him. His back is tense and he looks like he’s not reading, just listening. You force your eyes back to Tony on your right and shake your head.

“No, because then you’d know my shorthand and it makes me too happy to see you spend hours trying to decipher it.” His eyes wander to your essay again, trying to find any patterns that he can use to figure out what the hell you’re writing on anything ever. He’s opening his mouth to make a smart-ass remark that will no doubt lift some of the weight off of your shoulders when another voice speaks up.

“Wow,” Steve doesn’t even look at you even as he says your name sardonically, “Way to be a team player.” Your mind comes to a screeching halt, trying to figure out what the fuck he’s playing at. Even Bucky and Nat look surprised at the cold way he spoke to you, Tony and Peter both gasping from your side. You can’t say anything, throat tight and burning with tears as you stare at your boyfriend with raised eyebrows. What do you say to that? How do you respond? You know it wasn’t a joke because he’s not laughing, not smiling, not even looking up from that fucking book in his hands. You can’t tell if you’re more hurt or embarrassed, but either way, you don’t want to stick around for someone to get the nerve to say something.

Instead of replying, you slam your textbooks shut and bundle everything into your arms. You doubt Steve even notices that you’re making such a hasty retreat but if he does, he doesn’t say a fucking thing. You feel like you’re in high school - practically running through an empty hallway with your notebooks and textbooks pressed to your chest, trying not to cry. It’s ridiculous. You’re a trained assassin, you’re an Avenger, you are strong and powerful and yet… And yet. You’ve given so much of your heart and soul to Steve Rogers that he can knock you down eight pegs without even trying. Without even looking at you. You can’t wait to go on this fucking recon mission, where you can put all of your focus on making sure Peter is doing okay and gathering the intel. Where you can stop thinking about how easily Steve Rogers seems to be pushing you to the side.

You spend the next two days writing your essay, ignoring almost everyone, and working on your essay. On the day of the recon mission, you’re running out the door for your eight a.m lecture, printed essay in hand, and reminding Tony that he promised to pick you up on campus after class for the mission.

You’re lucky that you went, too. You hadn’t counted on the professor making everyone stand up and tell the class the subject of their essays - didn’t realize that it would be twenty-five percent of the grade on the paper. You’ll never understand college professors and the weird shit they do, but the class is informative and entertaining. He goes around the room, starting on the opposite side of you, so you’ll be last. Great.

Several students did their papers on the propaganda of the time, one student was brave and did her essay on the ethical dilemma of the super-soldier serum and eugenics, and most of the other students focused on pop culture and how it changed. When your professor looks at you it’s almost like he’s expecting you to have done nothing but fawn over Steve and Bucky, considering you know them personally. He looks surprised when you clear your throat, stand and say: “I focused on the casual and institutional racism that faced non-white Americans at the time.” You almost preen when he looks impressed and then the shame fills you. It’s just… You want Steve to be proud of you. You want him to congratulate you on going back to school, even if it’s just for one class. You want him to be happy and surprised that he was the inspiration for taking the class.

Though, lately, the class has been more for you than for him. You like learning new things, pushing the boundaries of assignments, making people uncomfortable with the truth of the times you’re studying as told to you by two people who lived it. It’s nice. Normal.

Everyone needs a little bit of normal.

But, honestly, normal is fucking boring. By the time your class is over and you’re handing in your essay it’s like ants are crawling over your skin. A combination of nerves from the upcoming mission, a head full of fog from whatever is happening with Steve, and a little bit of fear at the thought of taking Peter into the field has you bolting for the door the moment your essay is taken from you. You’d worn your tac-suit underneath a pair of baggy sweats and a loose hoodie, so you don’t even bother slowing down as you head toward the car that Tony has waiting for you. He’s in the front seat, grinning at you from underneath his aviators and Peter is driving.

You slip into the backseat without thinking or looking at who’s there, tossing your bag in the back and peeling your hoodie off. “God, Tone, we’re goin’ to die before we even get to the mission with Petey driving.” You toss your hoodie back to join your bag and finally see who’s sitting next to you.

Of course, it’s Steve. He’s looking at you - but not really. He’s looking through you, like he can’t stand that you’re both crammed in the backseat of Tony’s electric car. His gaze catches you and holds you in place. Everything around you goes cold and fuzzy, making you miss Peter’s indignant complaining that he has his license so he should be able to drive… And then Steve scoffs and looks out his window, ignoring you. It stings but you have a job to do. You make some witty retort back to Peter, but it falls flat as you struggle out of your sweats. This is what life is, you think. Relationships aren’t meant to be forever - you learned that at a young age.

Until your accident at fifteen, you had watched your parents run out of helium, their relationship expanding and cooling in arguments, in days spent not talking, in trips to your grandparents without the other, in passive-aggressive computer searches for divorce attorneys left open for anyone to see. Then, after you were trapped between those machines - after you spent hour after agonizing hour with electricity pressing between your atoms, being torn apart and rebuilt as a young god - after that day you watched them expand against each other before the neutron core of their relationship collapsed on itself and the resulting supernova sent you to the streets. But then Fury found you. Then Tony, then Nat, then Steve.

Your parents exploded out from each other and the shockwaves ruined your life. At least now, your relationship with Steve is ending silently. There’s no explosion, no collapse, no rapid expansion to take over your cosmos. Your relationship with Steve is simply approaching the event horizon, where it will hang in the air until one of you takes the final step and you both become frozen, two collapsing objects on opposite sides of the universe. Maybe that’s what you already are. You feel so far away from him in the back of Tony’s car - like he’s eons and light-years away from you - and you feel so cold. Frozen, down to the bone. It makes you stiff in your replies to Tony and Peter, slow on the uptake when the car pulls up to the quinjet, nearing stasis and unable to respond when Nat asks if you’re okay.

Finally, you turn to look at her, nodding. “Fine,” You clear your throat, “Been a rough day.” You do your best to smile at her, but your face feels heavy. Your chest feels cold and tight, making you worry about your performance on the upcoming mission. When Peter shakes his head next to you, discreetly telling Nat not to press, you’re focused on Steve and the electricity humming in the most base part of your body.

He scoffs and rolls his eyes. You turn away and force yourself to smile, throwing a weak and numb arm over Peter’s shoulders. “Are you ready for this, Pete?” You jostle him back and forth, leading him toward the sitting area behind the cockpit. “Gonna get your ass kicked?”

“Please,” He shoves you off, nervously laughing, “Not with the skills you’ve taught me.” He mimics throwing webs, making hissing noises under his breath, and you bark out a laugh, shaking your head.

“You’re payin’ my medical bills when I have to save your ass, Spidey.” You shake your head and strap in next to the wall, Peter taking the seat to your right. Tony, from the aisle across from you, points a thick finger your way.

“You don’t pay medical bills anymore,” He waggles his finger, “So you’ll just have to make him do your homework for a week.”

“Mister Stark!”

“He’ll have to earn shorthand to do your essays,” Nat chimes in from between Bucky and Steve, who are both doing their best to not look at you - or anyone really. “You willing to share that with him?”

You lean back in your seat and jab at Peter with your elbow. “Hell no, so I guess Spider-Boy better do his best.” The arachnid in question grumbles, crossing his arms and slouching in his seat.

“No pressure, right?” He complains, “Not like I’m already nervous or anything.”

“You’ll do fine, kid,” Bucky pipes up, drawing your eyes back to Steve, “It’s goin’ to be a cakewalk.��

“Don’t jinx it, Barnes,” You warn half-heartedly, tucking in on yourself, “We need this to be easy.” From the look on his face - everyone’s face, really - you know that they heard you loud and clear when you were really saying I need this to be easy.

After an uneasy laugh from Bucky, a claustrophobic silence settles over you all as the jet begins to take off. You’re in for an hour ride and plan to spend it going over battle plans with Peter when harsh whispering catches your ear. It’s Bucky and Steve nearly crushing Nat between them until she gets up and sits across from Peter, rolling her eyes. Still, you try your best to run him through the actions you both had planned - the names, the setups you needed to execute them, everything. If something happens to Peter, you’ll never forgive yourself.

And then, cutting through your soft promptings to Peter and his equally soft replies, Bucky’s voice. “Leave it, Steve. Until after this mission.” Even Tony looks up from his tablet, curiosity piqued. Their faces are both red, set hard and angry at each other and your stomach drops. What the hell is going on that Steve ‘Till The End Of The Line Rogers is fighting with Bucky You And Me, Pal Barnes? You must shift, or lean too far into Steve’s eyesight, because for the first time in what feels like years he is looking directly at you - and seeing you, too. It makes your pulse jump and, almost instinctively, you want to reach out and ground yourself on the rubber of the seat underneath you.

You don’t get the chance, though, because Steve speaks. “No, why should I? This is clearly affecting the team.” He’s still looking - glaring - at you like you’ve done something wrong. “What’s the point of waiting? I’ve been waiting to talk about this.”

“Bo, I don’t think this is the time,” Bucky looks over his shoulder at you, then, and you know what’s coming. You know that it’s time, that Steve is about to break up with you in front of your teammates. Your friends. Your family. You steel yourself for the anguish you’re about to feel and then jerk your chin out, hardening your resolve.

“Buck, it’s fine. If Steve wants to address something, he can.”

Natasha says your name, a low warning over the hum of the quinjet. “I think he should wait.”

“Well, I’m not goin’ to wait!” Steve unbuckles himself and stands, “I have tried waiting, and look at where that has gotten me.” He puts his hands on his hips and puffs out a breath. You unbuckle and stand, too, unsure of where this is going. “You need to,” He holds one hand out, pointing at you while his voice shakes. You notice his hand is shaking, too, but fractionally. If you didn’t know Steve as well as you do you may have never noticed it. “You need to get it together.”

“I need to get it together?” You question, eyebrows nearly hitting the ceiling with how fast they shoot up. You’re not totally sure you’ve heard him right because what do you have to get together? The broken shards of your relationship? The information and research for your final paper? The awful way you’ve let yourself be treated for what seems like forever?

“You heard me,” Steve says, at the same time Bucky leans his head back and groans deep in his chest. “What? Someone had to say it.”

“We should wait for this,” Nat speaks up again, but lifelessly. She knows now that you and Steve are both on the warpath, neither of you are going to stop. (That’s also why the two of you work together as a couple so well. Very rarely are you both so worked up about something that you can’t back down, so the other is always there to meet you halfway and get you back to earth.)

“No, no, no,” You say, near hysterically, “No, he wants to do this now? Before a mission? Instead of the fuckin’ weeks we had to hash whatever crawled up his ass and died out? Be my guest. He’s already dragged everyone into this by treating me like a pariah.” You’re not sneering, but your teeth are gritted so tightly together you can hear them scraping and feel a tension headache beginning to bloom in your temples. Bucky looks… Almost incredulous at your statement. Like putting the blame on Steve is a dick move or something.

“Oh, so I’m the bad guy here?” Steve is curling his lip, glaring at you. There’s something behind his eyes, but he’s buried it so deep that you can’t reach it and figure out what it is. “I’m the bad guy, right. Right, right, right.” He scoffs, shakes his head, and then he’s running his fingers through his hair like he really can’t believe what you’re saying to him.

“Well, what else am I supposed to think?” You throw your hands out to the side and let them slap back down on your thighs. “You ignore me, you make me feel like shit, you talk down to me like I’m some insignificant foot soldier. How else am I supposed to take that, Steve?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe ask me what’s wrong? Maybe ask me why I’m acting like this, instead of ignoring all of your problems like a child?” He mirrors your moments, but the sound his hands make when they hit the outside of his suit is more powerful than yours. Fueled by anger, you think. Anger and whatever the hell was in the serum Erskine pumped into Steve.

“Ask you?” You repeat, near-hysterical, “Ask you? Oh yeah, let me get right on that. Hey, Mister Rogers? Mister Captain America? Mister Ignores-His-Partner-For-God-Knows-Why? Hey, just why are you doin’ that?” You’re surprised that you’ve said something so snotty, but you don’t back down. (Steve looks surprised, too, and Bucky has stood up next to his friend like he’s about to start berating you as well. At least he looks more cautious about it, like he’s not totally sure that this fight should be happening.)

The more surprising part of your fight is how fast it’s shut down. Tony and Nat stand at the same time and exchange a glance like they’ve surprised each other. “That’s enough,” Tony starts.

Nat cuts him off. “I don’t care if you fight this one out instead of talking, but if you do it before this recon mission you two are going to blow it. Do you understand me?” She looks dangerous, the sharp edge of a knife spiraling through the air. You force yourself to look away from her, from Tony, from Bucky, from Steve. She’s right. You know she’s right - especially on this mission. Peter is there, going to be in real danger even though there’s not supposed to be one Hydra agent in a four-mile radius. You have to clear your mind and focus on protecting him.

Steve seems to think the same thing because he stands down. When you watch him collapse in on himself, Bucky’s arms around his shoulders, into the little quinjet seats your everything aches. Heart, lungs, eyes - everything. Even though you don’t know what’s going on, what could have possibly happened to make your relationship sink this quickly and out of the blue, you still love him. He’s still The One for you. You still want to be the one to comfort him and make him feel whole when he’s struggling.

But you can’t. You can’t and it kills you.

The heat of battle makes a lot of things fade into the background. Important things like why the fuck are there Hydra agents here? and Steve is going to break up with you when you get back on the jet and Tony swore on the fucking limited edition AC/DC vintage tour poster he has in his office that this would be an easy in/easy out information mission. None of that matters, though, because you’re in deep shit. There are seventeen of them, all primed to the teeth with weapons made to take your team down permanently.

You’re practically glued to Peter, calling out commands and plans for him to initiate. It’s when all of your plans fall through that you take a hit from a heavy fist on purpose, hitting the ground hard. “Plan F, Spidey, Plan F!” You cover the instruction with a groan and then you’re back on your feet, working your way toward him.

“Plan F?” Tony says, somewhere above you in his suit. Your comms crackle ominously as another heat-seeking grenade is launched, interfering with the radio waves your tech relies on. You don’t worry about it, because you know Tony is on it. He’s your eyes in the sky.

Peter is the one who answers his question, watching your close hand-to-hand tilt out of your favor briefly. “Plan Fuck It, Mister Stark.” He grunts as he webs up a Hydra agent, jerking him away from where he was about to slip a knife up and under Natasha’s kevlar. You finally drop the guy in front of you, ignoring Steve’s disappointed Language! and toss one of your knives toward Nat for her to use. Tony is still laughing in your ear, wheezing as he drops down and snags the rifle from one of the snipers and then takes back off.

What your little protégé failed to mention about Plan F is that it’s not just chaos, but controlled chaos. You let loose, letting a soft current cover every inch of your skin as Peter switches to his conductive webbing and takes special care to not web any of his allies. Except for you - if you’re in the way and he catches you in a web it doesn’t matter because you’re you, alive with electricity that drops the men that get caught in the web, too. You rip out of the webs and turn the current off when one of your teammates gets too close.

More Hydra agents are pouring out of the woods, topping out their numbers around twenty-five. That’s twenty-five too many in your opinion, especially when you can see Peter getting tired, his anxiety spiking, his moves having more and more hesitation behind them. You need to get this over with quickly, but you don’t have the options to do that. Steve, Bucky, and Nat are really the heavy-hitters - you, Pete, and Tony are the only ones without serums despite all of your individual abilities. Desperately you reach out for a web that’s still connected to Peter’s arms, pulling him out of the way of a baton that’s about to come down on the back of his neck.

The baton the agent is wielding glints in the coming dusk, freezing you as Peter scrambles past you with a quick apology. You’ve seen that before - seen it, felt it, know it like the back of your hand. There’s no way that you could ever forget that weapon. The man stumbles when his hit doesn’t connect but then rights himself and searches for a new target.

A long, black baton that splits into two prongs at the end is heavy in his hand. Electricity crackles between the bulbs at the end, flashing in the setting sun and your memories. The man only has one, but if it was hooked up to a machine, spinning. If there were four, five, six. If you were pinned between them, screaming in the pain as they rewrote your DNA… You’ve only felt it once, but you’ll never forget it.

And now, you’ll taste it again. On purpose this time. The man holding the stun baton is going for Steve’s back - his strong back, the one that protects people, the one that holds the weight of the world, the one that lays in your bed, the one you see whipping out of rooms as you’re entering just so that he doesn’t have to look at you - and you can’t let that happen. It only takes ten amps to kill a regular human, but you know those things are cranked up to twenty minimum. You don’t want to see how many amps of current it will take to stop Steve’s heart. You’re between the baton and Steve before you can think about what you’re doing or what comes next, the hard bulbs settling unyielding into your side and cranking out maximum power for maximum damage as soon as the current is connected and able to flow from one bulb to the other.

The pain hits you and your throat catches on it. It burns through your body, setting everything on fire - your chest hurts as your heart protests the electrons and then your powers kick in, sweeping them into your very atoms and cells. You’re a live wire now, ears humming and body thrumming with power you’ve only dreamed of. It hurts, and it burns, and you feel tears rising in your eyes because you’re back there - back begging for death or for life or for God and god at the same time - but then it’s over. The man sees that you’re not seizing up, not dropping dead in front of him, and he takes three steps back.

It’s not far enough.

You’ve only felt like this once before - right after you were unhooked from the machine that changed your life and brought you to your new family. You remember how you looked when you were put in front of a mirror with all of the pent up electricity circling your body - how your eyes were filled to the brim and dripping with bright and blue electricity, the way it was jumping across your body, how you didn’t need to breathe because your body was fully saturated with pure, unadulterated power. You wonder if you look like that now and assume you do because you can see the bright blue reflecting in the terrified eyes of the Hydra agent.

Your suit, unlike everyone else’s, is not grounded. It’s metal, metal, metal. You’re made to conduct, born for it, and the earth beneath you comes alive with bright white as you release all of the energy, the power, surges down and out. You’re practiced. You can reach out and feel the synapses and neurons of every human being in the clearing, know exactly where your teammates are standing, and know exactly how to target everything but them and the pitiful amount of electricity their brains carry. You grin, something truly feral and unhinged, and you can see the fear in the Hydra agent. Then, you let go.

You know that everyone is going to be pissed. (Maybe not everyone.) You’re not built for this, not made to take down nearly twenty fucking people at once. As you let go, you feel what they feel. The seizing muscles, the stopping of their hearts, the inside of their bodies crisping against their bones. At that moment, that delicious moment, you see the universe.

You become God. You become everything - your mother and your father and God and god and anyone else who’s watching your life from the ether. You become the judge, jury, and executioner of souls that you don’t know from Adam. You become lightning, and thunder, and exposed nerves of the cosmos at the same time. The world bends to your will and you relish in it, taking that power in your fist and wielding it to protect the man you’ll love for the rest of your life and the family that you’ve made. You will stop at nothing to end this, even if it means turning yourself inside out to do it.

You damn near do turn yourself inside out too, but that doesn’t matter, does it? The blood spilling from your ears, nose, and eyes feels like heaven. It’s hot, and thick, and it’s proof of the power that your body holds. You’re a temple and a sanctuary, a war-room and a bunker, a field of flowers and a sun-dry desert. It does not matter if Steve doesn’t love you at that moment, because you are love and hate wrapped into one package. You are everything and nothing, spread thin at the beginning and the end of time.

And then none of that is true. You are just… You. Standing in a clearing, surrounded by twenty-something dead Hydra agents and your terrified, terrified family. It hurts to breathe and you can taste blood in your mouth, but that’s an afterthought. Steve is still standing behind you, but he is alive. That is what matters.

This is what love is, you think.

Pain and pleasure.

Even if he leaves you, you will always love him.

Pain and pleasure.

You’re weak at the knees when he finally turns to see you - and you’re a sight. Struggling to stand, fingertips blackened with soot but not burnt, blood pouring from your nose, ears, eyes… You look like death, but you feel like life. Someone says something behind you - Peter, maybe? Or maybe Tony, in your comms? - but you don’t hear it. Everything tunnels out, your weak knees finally collapsing as you keel backward.

Steve bears down upon you almost immediately. You’re halfway to unconsciousness when he wraps you up in his arms, keeping you from falling in with the pile of bodies around you. He’s saying your name, harsh and soft and then in a voice like he’s ordering you to wake up. You loll about as he drops you down onto a patch of clear grass, hands searching your body for wounds. When he skims over your side, where the baton has burnt through your suit and your flesh, you surge back toward being able to have cohesive thoughts. The pain brings you back, hands wrapping around Steve’s arm and calling out his name. “Steve! Fuck, that hurts!”

“Honey,” He breathes, “Fuck, we have to get you back to the jet.” His jaw ticks, hair dirty and loose from its normal style. “Why’d you do that?” Steve doesn’t wait for an answer from you, ordering Peter to web something up to carry you over your protests.

“I’m fine,” You argue, only slurring slightly, “I feel fine.” But you’re going to let Nat and Bucky load you up on the webbed stretcher anyway because it’s the first time Steve has cared for you in a long time. You want to relish in this moment, the way that he didn't say your name but called you honey.

Well, and because Natasha slides a thumb across her neck over Steve’s shoulder in a silent threat.

You groan when Bucky accidentally grabs your calf where there is an absolutely awful stab wound, but you wave off his apology. “How could you have known?” To be honest, you hadn’t even known it was there until his Vibranium hand was slipping against it and sending shockwaves of pain through you. Peter is next to you the whole time that you’re being carried back to the jet - Tony staying back to begin scanning the bodies of the Hydra agents for the information you need and any other information they may be carrying. The poor kid is nearly at a breakdown, so you reach out to him and shake his arm when his fingers twine with yours. “Chill out, kid, I don’t know how you got it into your head that this is your fault, but it sure isn’t.” He sniffles, but hands back with Steve as Bucky and Nat get you situated in the small medical room of the jet. They transfer you and then make to leave, only Bucky hesitating near the door.

“Stevie’s goin’ to be here soon and… I don’t know what made you do what you did but you have’t explain it to him. He’s bendin’ over backwards to figure it out, and we don’t have’a clue. Came out’a nowhere.” He looks at you for another moment before shaking his head and stepping out of the room. Your head is spinning, partially from what Bucky just said and partially from the pain and stimulus of electricity. You wait there, then, because this is it. This is the event horizon. You wait there, eyes closed, until you hear footsteps approach the med room, and then the door slowly opens. Steve says your name, holding all the finality and weight of an atomic bomb. You don’t open your eyes until he swings a chair next to the stretcher and lays a hand on your calf.

“You don’t have to do this,” You finally say, pushing yourself up onto your elbows to watch him. “I know that you don’t want to.” Steve only scoffs and begins to wash the stab wound using a packet of soap and a water bottle. You say his name twice before he looks at you, something between hate and hurt curdling into a glaze over his eyes that stops you in your tracks.

“Just let me do this. It is the least that you can do.” His words are painful and stilted, like it’s taking force to push them past his teeth. You lay back down and close your eyes, content to just feel the pain of Steve beginning to stitch you up and then dress the wound before you feel the pain of Steve leaving you like you knew he always would. (Falling in love with Steve Rogers went against every instinct you had. You knew that he was going to hurt you from the first moment your lips touched his.)

When he’s done he sits back and puts his elbows on his knees, head in his hands. He heaves a heavy sigh and then shakes it off, “I’ll dress your burn, and then we’ll talk.” And normally, yes, you would agree but this is too important. You want to get it over with so you can lick your wounds metaphorically and dress them literally - and then you want to go home, you want to pack your bags, and you want to disappear and remake your life somewhere else.

Some far-off place where everyone you know won’t take one look at your face and know that you’re still painfully, deeply in love with Steve Rogers, end of your semester be damned. Family you’ve made be damned. You can’t sit around and be in love with him like a neon sign on a dark highway while it’s painfully clear that he hasn’t had a sign on his highway in a long time.

So instead of agreeing, you swing your legs over the stretcher and swallow your flinch when the burn pulls tight. Steve opens his mouth to argue but you give him a tight-lipped shake of your head and his jaw snaps shut. “No,” You say, voice not giving in to the emotion swirling in your chest. “I have let this go on long enough.”

It’s the wrong thing to say because Steve fucking scoffs again and looks away from you. “One day was long enough.” He says, cutting straight to your core. Okay, ouch. You take a deep breath and shake your head to try and bite back the tears that are inevitably rising in your eyes. If one day was long enough for him to realize he doesn’t want to be with you, why did he let it go on for nearly a full year? Why did he spend so long leading you on, pulling you by a thread before garroting your heart with it? What was the point?

“If you want to leave me, just say that,” You reply harshly, standing and wobbling away from him. He just watches you go, watches the way you struggle past the lead weights your muscles have become, the way you’re starting to feel the stab wound on your leg, the way the skin on your burn is beginning to blister and only just now losing its heat. He just watches you, where the Steve that loved you once upon a time might have helped. You turn your back on him, hands on your hips so that you can hide the way that you’re crying and your hands are shaking.

“If I want to leave you? If?” He says. You hear the scrape of his chair as he stands, “I think after what you’ve done, it’s not an if, sweetheart.” The way he says it tastes like iron. Steve never calls you sweetheart like he never calls you by your name. It’s always honey, lover, dovie. You don’t turn to face him because you’re struggling to keep yourself above water. “I spent so long thinkin’, wonderin’, askin’ myself - God damnit, will you look at me?” You turn slowly, not because you’ve never heard Steve speak like that but because his voice is desperate and raw. When you turn, you’re not sure what to expect. Maybe him, standing in front of you, broad-shouldered and disappointed like in those PSA’s he had to film once. Maybe he’d be angry, hands clenched at his sides and eyes narrowed like he gets in meetings when he doesn’t agree with something but he’s out-voted. But you never expect to see him crying, lip wobbling, folded in on himself like a young boy instead of the strong, invincible man you’ve come to love.

He looks so different.

It hits you, then, that you’re not looking at Steve Rogers. Not really. He's not Steve Rogers, not Captain America, not even Captain Rogers. You see him as he was - before America spat it’s untruths all over him and injected him with a serum that changed who he was, is, will be. He’s not the able-bodied man that you know, not strong and unreachable, not the heartthrob that overshadows the team during press events. He’s not America’s Darling, not really. Not where it counts.

You’re looking at Stevie Rogers. Stevie Rogers who, for all intents and purposes, was supposed to die before he made it out of toddlerhood or soon thereafter. Stevie Rogers who the doctors said wasn’t supposed to survive. Stevie Rogers who grew up sickly, rattling painful breaths and never playing ball with the neighborhood boys. Who couldn’t walk until middle school when he got his braces off. Who never had a partner because Bucky, strong and handsome and tall Bucky, was always deemed the better option. Who believed in his country so much that he tried to sneak into the second world war, subjected himself to a painful medical procedure so that he could change his very DNA to be what the world wanted him to be.

Captain Steve Rogers. Captain America. Strong, blond, patriotic, resilient.

You’re sure that if men don’t want to go to therapy now, in the modern age, they certainly didn’t want to go in the ‘40s. So where did that leave Steve, your Steve, standing in front of you and looking small, and broken, and sad, and alone? Did they expect him to take his new, taller, working body and run with it? Did they not think about how he would lose a part of himself in the process? How did they expect him to go from disabled to abled without some disconnect?

You think about the You That You Were Before and the You That You Are Now, and how you lost a part of yourself when the accident gave you your powers and how you’d lose yourself if someone figured out a way to take them away. You Before formed your identity around being normal - living in a shitty home with shitty parents, sure, but normal - and You Now form your identity around your powers, your team, your job, your love. If you lost those things, what did you have left? Who would you be?

When Steve lost his identity and became everything that America wanted everyone to think that America was, what did he have left? Sure, he could tell himself that he represents America - strong and patriotic and just - but it must have conflicted with everything he knew about himself before that. You know that disabled people now know that American society is unjust, unfit for them with abled people not willing to make room to allow them to thrive. You can only imagine what it was really like for Steve in the ‘20s and ‘30s and ‘40s. What he had to do just to survive. (Medical experimentation, you remind yourself. Did they know it wouldn’t kill him? Did they know his body wouldn’t rip itself apart with the new sinewy muscle they were packing on? Did they care? Or was he just a body they saw as broken? A project to fix? To turn him into something more like them and call it patriotism?)

You shake your head at him, still filled with despair, and try to figure out what he’s talking about. “Stevie,” You start, pet name easily replacing what you had been calling him because it’s not fair to shoe-horn him into a body that doesn’t feel like his own. You wonder if he still expects the bone-grinding pain that he used to tell you would happen when it rains. He raises a hand, a strong and family hand, shaking his head.

“I just need to know why I wasn’t enough for you,” Steve looks sad, slouching in on himself like he’s expecting to get his ass handed to him in another alleyway and hope Bucky is there to save him. “I need to know why you wouldn’t just break up with me if you wanted to see other people so badly.” You suck in a shocked breath because, okay, that’s not what you were expecting. Between that and the paradigm shift you’ve had on how Steve must view his identity, body, and self, you’re stunned. Steve continues like he doesn’t even register that you look shocked and pale and now you’re crying because he thinks you’re cheating on him? “And I get it. I get it. You have no idea how much I understand. If I were you, I wouldn’t want me either, okay?”

You cut him off there because what the actual God damn fuck is he talking about? “No, Stevie, I’m not cheating on you.” You shake your head again and this, your statement, lights a fire in him. He still looks like Stevie rather than Steve, but there’s anger there. You imagine that’s what it might have looked like moments before he got himself in trouble back before he was serumed. “I’m not.”

“Oh, yeah?” He challenges, jaw ticking and chin jerking up, “Oh, yeah? You can’t lie to me. I know, okay? The act is up, it’s over, I know, okay? You can stop pretending.”

“Steve, I do not fucking know what you’re talking about but I”m not cheating on you!” You raise your voice, not really angry but more out of necessity. You need to get it out of his head that he is anything less than everything you want - that you could possibly love anyone more than you love him.

“I wanted to clarify something for you,” Steve says like he’s reading an old script from when he was just a beefy, red/white/blue stage prop for the American military, “I am excited to meet with you, but there are some rules. Do not talk about Captain Steve Rogers. I don’t want to hear about him,” As he continues to recite something that has clearly hurt him, you go lax. You know exactly what’s happened - your fists unclench, your jaw drops a little bit, and it feels like someone has gutted you, “I think it is wise to keep work and pleasure separate, and it’s a rule I will enforce heavily. I look forward to seeing you again.” He’s sneering at the end, tears falling down his ruddy cheeks.

“Steve,” You try again, but he cuts you off.

“Am I just work for you?” His voice is shaking more than you thought possible, and so are his hands. You’ve never seen Steve so off-kilter, so thrown, and it breaks your heart that yes, technically, you’re the cause of this. Before this, before this horrible misunderstanding, your relationship with Steve was the paragon of trust so neither of you cared if the other read emails or texts. You remember the email - the email from your fucking college professor - because it had made you so angry that he’d referred to your relationship with Steve as something as simple and base as just pleasure - like you could even put words to the galaxy of a relationship you had with Steve - that you’d gone to the gym to work off some of that irritation. You hadn’t wanted to take it out on anyone accidentally. When you came back from the gym, Steve was gone on that two-week mission that he’d left on without saying goodbye.

Oh, God. You feel sick to your stomach as the paradigm of the way that Steve’s been treating you shifts violently to the left. You have to physically hold yourself up and try to speak past the lump in your throat. Steve looks… Brokenly smug. Like he knows he’s right, but he’d rather gnaw his own legs off than be right.

“No,” You croak, “No, Steve, you’ve got it all wrong.” You want to reach for him, but it feels like the room is closing in on you. You’re second-guessing everything now - especially what you’ve just said. How many people said the exact same thing to him pre-serum because they said something meant for Bucky to him? How many times did he hear that when he was getting a new diagnosis, hoping for the best? How many times had his own mother said it to him when he told her something someone had said, fresh-faced and not yet used to the way that abled people sometimes treated disabled people? You think you might be sick. “That email was from my professor, Steve. I’m not cheating on you, I’d never.” He laughs darkly and sits back down in his chair, head in his hands again. You try to gather the strength to move toward him when you see his shoulders shaking, a telltale sign that he’s crying.

“A professor,” He says with a watery laugh, “Right.”

Finally, you realize that he needs you, needs to know you love him, that you’d do anything for him. You can iron out the kinks later - figure out why he didn’t want to come to talk to you past the original hurt, why he treated you so coldly, why he didn’t trust that you wouldn’t do this to him - but now, you need to show him that you’re here. That you choose him. That you’ll always choose him.

You make your way to him and set a shaking hand on his shoulder. For a brief second you think he’s going to shake you off but then Steve’s hand shoots up and latches onto where your hand is resting, dipping his head to press against your arm. “Stevie, please,” You say, unsure of what you’re asking him to do, “I picked up a class, just one, and it’s… I picked it up for you, it’s about the ‘30s and ‘40s and…” He looks up at you and he looks so broken - face ruddy and wet with tears, lip wobbling, chest heaving as he tries to not sob. His brows are knit and he looks confused, “I just wanted to be able to understand you better. You had to leave so much of yourself at the door when you joined the Avengers, had to leave so much of yourself in the ice… In Erskine’s lab… Stevie, I just wanted you to be able to be you when you’re with me. I wanted to know the you that you were before you became Captain America.” Your voice is shaking, knees knocking together, and honestly? You feel like you might blackout.

“What?” He rasps, “What?”

“He sent that email because too many kids signed up for his class thinking that they’d be able to look at pictures of you and Buck for a semester. Emailed me directly because he knows we’re…” You choke on your words, shaking your head because you’re not even sure there’s a we anymore, “Because he knows I’m on the team. Didn’t want me walking in and making his class about just a few years in the ‘30s and ‘40s rather than the culture of the time.” You don’t know how else to explain it to him, but Steve isn’t saying anything - practically isn’t moving or breathing- so you continue to try and explain what’s really happening as best as you can, “And - and that email made me so angry because he singled me out, didn’t email anyone else about it, and I left to try and work some of that out; I didn’t want to take it out on you, or let it spoil - let it spoil… But when I came back from the gym, you were gone. You were gone for two weeks and I didn’t know why.” You’re crying harder now and pretty sure that within the next sixty seconds you’re going to collapse if you don’t sit down.

Steve shakes his head, still looking like he doesn’t understand. “What?” He says for a third time, “A class? A college class?”

“I just wanted to feel closer to you,” You confess, “Just wanted to understand a fraction of your life without making you do the heavy liftin’ and teachin’ me. Shouldn’t have’t do that,” You’re sobbing, barely biting out your words as you realize that something you’ve done to strengthen your relationship with Steve has destroyed it, “Shouldn’t have to explain a whole different time just to feel loved, Stevie. Should be able to be with someone who understands without you havin’ to explain.” You’re not sure you can say Peggy’s name out loud, and you hope he understands what you’re saying without making you actually say it, “Should’a been able to have love with someone who knew, and I know I’m nothin’ compared to what you should’a had, but I want to be. I want to be in the same ballpark instead’a watchin’ from the stands.” You wipe your face with your free hand and look away from Steve when he stands in front of you. You don’t want to see the look on his face - what he’s thinking about what you’ve said.

He says your name and you glance at him, but his expression stops him in your tracks. Where Steve looked broken and hurt and fuming with anger to hide the anguish, now he looks stricken. You shake your head, “No, no. I didn’t say that to make you feel guilty-”

“You think that I care about whether or not you can understand the ‘40s?” He cuts you off, hands moving to curl around your biceps, “You think that I care whether or not you can relate to a time in history when you weren’t even thought of?”

“Of course I love you. I love you more than anything in this world, but you shouldn’t have to not care, Steve,” You argue, shaking your head, “That’s what I’m trying to say. You should be with someone who understands without explanation. I just wanted to give that to you - didn’t know that this would happen.”

“I should be with someone who loves me,” He argues back, “If you love me, that’s all that matters. My past be damned.”

“But your past is you!” You try to pull away from Steve, but he anchors you there. You’re dizzy from being so close to him after this long, but also because of how many different twists this situation has taken. You can barely keep up with how bad your communication with Steve has become - barely keep up with how you need to fix it, or how to fix it. “Your past is you,” You repeat when you realize that Steve isn’t going to let you go. “And you shouldn’t have to give that up so that someone will love you.”

“But you love me,” He says desperately, ducking his head so that he’s nearly nose to nose with you, “You love me, right?”

“More than anything,” You say, closing your eyes and relishing in the feeling of being so close to Steve, “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone. I don’t care about what anyone else thinks, or anyone else. I’ll even stop goin’ to class if you want me to - Steve, I just can’t do this anymore. Can’t do this thing where you don’t talk to me about what’s botherin’ you.” You’re choking up, barely whispering, but you know he hears you. YOu can feel his warm breath on your face, “Nearly fuckin’ killed me.”

“I thought it was goin’ to be easier,” He breathes, nose bumping yours, “When you eventually decided to leave me for him. Thought I was savin’ myself some trouble.” You can practically taste his tears as they fall again, “Buck and Nat tried to tell me that you weren’t - that you wouldn’t - but I just couldn’t believe them.”

When you open your eyes, his are closed. This close to him you can see the soft freckles that are blooming over his eyelids, his soft eyelashes kissing his cheekbones. You can feel him breathing, feel him nearly pressed against you in a way that feels hauntingly nostalgic and terrifyingly fleeting; like you’ll be able to feel his warmth for years to come, but he’s about to disappear. “That’s okay,” You finally whisper, “It’s okay that you didn’t believe them. That you thought what you thought. It’s okay.” He shakes his head against yours, opening his mouth to protest, but you refuse to let him feel guilty about feeling this way - you have plenty of time to sit him down and talk to him candidly about the way he acted because of these feelings, anyway. “If I would have been in your place I’m not sure I would have believed them.”

“I treated you so badly…” He shifts and wraps his arms around you. It’s almost immediate - you relax into his arms and wind yours around his waist, keeping him pulled against you as he presses his face into your neck and you press your cheek against his chest. “So awfully.”

“We’ll talk about that, okay? But later. Right now you just need to know that I love you, Steve. I love you more than I can tell you - more than I can express.” You want to kiss him, but you can’t. Can’t kiss him, you need to wait for him to kiss you, for him to close that gap and show you that he still loves you like you love him. “We’ll have to have a talk, a long and hard conversation about this, Stevie, but for now… For now, I’m just content to be with you, okay? MIssed you so much.”

He sighs, nose pressing against yours again. “Missed you too, dovie. Missed you more than I can even say,” His voice breaks as his lips brush yours. Your relationship is not without its flaws and problems - Steve’s actions when he thought you were cheating on him are proof of that and, well, the fact that you didn’t realize what was happening, why it was happening, or a large part of your boyfriend’s psychological makeup having an impact on your relationship while it went unknown by you… There is a lot of work for the two of you to do, a lot of work to do, a lot of communication to be done… But you’d do it all for Steve, over and over again.

When he presses forward and presses his lips gently to yours, you know that he’ll do it all for you, over and over again, too.

#steve rogers imagine #steve rogers/reader #steve rogers x reader #marvel imagine #mcu imagine

[familyagrestefanblog]

Analysis of the Family Agreste Portrait

Quarantine strikes again and since the Agreste family portrait has fascinated me for a loooong while now I decided to put my thoughts into words and write another essay x3

The amount of informations we get out if it is amazing and its not only highlighting the absolute TRAGEDY it is that this family is about to face such a horrible fall out, it also hints at the former family dynamic before everything went to hell.

So make yourself comfortable and get something to drink, because we will be here for a while.

Here we go: My analysis of this beauty of a fictional portrait

Let's start with the most obvious one: Hawkmoth.

Its commen knowledge by now that the background makes it seem like Hawkmoth is standing behind the Agreste family like a bad omen waiting for fate to take its course and cause their doom. The portrait is brilliantly designed so the illusion is created that Gabriels body (here in a blue suit closer to Hawkmoths normals dark purple one) overlaps with Hawkmoths and a darker line is connecting the two faces as well, which rest on the same height right beside each other. The very same line grows bigger as it goes further behind Emilie - coloring her entire background - showing us that EMILIE is all Gabriel sees when he becomes Hawkmoth. But notice that Adrien on the other hand can hardly be concidered part of Gabriels “sight” at all.

Its forshadowing 101 and damn beautiful if I may say so. But this isnt what I want to focus on in this post.

I want to elaborate on two other key factors that tell us about the former dynamic of the Agrestes instead and what they tell us about the present and future.

The heart:

This is hitting me on another level because look at the heart these three form with Adrien right in the middle! He was so LOVED. This family may have never been anywhere close to ideal but still, there was LOVE and now he's gonna loose it all.

Adrien already lost his mother which led to his father getting even more distant and cold and now his father is becoming increasingly more abusive as he falls deeper and deeper into villainy. Gabriel was never a good father, the show has already made this clear with episodes like "the bubbler", “the collector” or "Gigantitan" for example but gosh there was hope for their little family! The end scene in "Jackady" portrayed it perfectly and I wrote a whole other post just covering the sigificants of Adriens and Gabriels hug in that episode. Check it out here if you want, it goes hand in hand with this one.

Miraculous is all about love and the completely different ways it can affect us, our behavior and actions. Because love isnt just wonderful, pure and empowering, it also can be twisted, destructive and cause the darkst nightmares. And with this family the writers know how to portray the complex love in an abusive houshold thats destined to go up in flames and they also know how to hint at their troubled past with the family portrait.

But this heart visual tells us even more in connection with the positions of their hands. And with these two key factors, lets start with Gabriel:

His hands convey it so strongly. He loves/d Emilie and Adrien so much and no doubt this love for them was certainly the reason why he started his quest as Hawkmoth. But he is now losing himself more and more in the pleasure of his villainy to the point where he forgets why he's doing it in the first place and becomes a complete monster (of a father). But this turn and spiraling into villainy didn't came out of nowhere - this root already had to be in him to grow like that. And this is also something the portrait indeed hints at as well.

Because Gabriel is the only one of the three who:

1. We see so completely open and without hesitation reach out and hold BOTH his family members.

2. Is visually “cut off” from them as well.

But this doesn't mean he was excluded and the only one who truly cared and loved, it just shows that things were more... complicated...as usual.

This is best explained with Adriens hand placements:

One hand is holding his mothers but the other one is visibly not reaching out for his father. But as we all know, that's not because Adrien doesn't love him. In season 1-3 it is made more than clear that Adrien does not hate his father - he loves him alot and tries to be there for him and be patient because he knows that the loss of his mother brought his father terribly down.

Sure, Adrien gets frustrated and angry with him, literally how could he not?? But Adrien tries his best to reach out to Gabriel so they can bond and come out of this tragedy stronger.

But this loving willingness to forgive his father for the chance of growing a father-son bond with him doesn't change the fact that these two didn't had a bond prior to this. And let's be honest here, does anybody actually think this distance between them was caused by Adrien? I don't think so.

So notice how Adriens hand - not reaching out for his fathers - is the only one in the portrait NOT inside or forming the heart.

When the connection of the hands between the family members symbolise their connection to another, then Adrien keeping the hand for his father away from the display of love is VERY telling. It tells us very directly what this distance did to Adriens side of the relationship. Despite Gabriels hand being right there, Adrien does not meet the gesture. And I cannot believe that he did it out of resentment, nothing in the show indicated such strong negative emotions from past Adrien.

It's much more likely that Adrien not reaching for his fathers hand is meant to show us that Adrien felt that he either CAN'T return the gesture because he fears that it'll end in an unpleasant reaction from Gabriel - that it isn't Adriens "place" to reach out to his busy and distant father like that, like it's demanding something - or Adrien simply didn't took Gabriel laying his hand on his shoulder, in the context of posing for a portrait, as a gesture of love and affection.

The way I interpret the portrait is that prior to Emilies dissappearence Adrien did not exactly try to reach out to his father the same way he did from s1-s3, which, I mean, of course wasn't the case. Not only is it NOT the 13 years olds (or younger) job to form an emotional connection to their absent parent - when that’s the PARENTS job - it also wouldn't be necessarily "needed" for Adrien to do so.

Because Emilie at this point was still in the picture so and she was the complete opposite. She was a (or maybe the ONLY) safe, reliable and loving constant of parental attention, affection and care in his life and because of these two HARSH contrasts Adrien learned from very early on to focus mostly completely on her in that regard while kinda blocking his father out.

That most likely wasn't even an active choice whatsoever - Gabriel proofed to be an unreliable resource so Adrien learned to subconciously treat him that way out of self protection. That doesn't mean he had any kind of dislike or malice against his father it just means that he wasn't able or allowed to connect with Gabriel the way he needed. Several episodes show that Gabriel deadass only parented like 15 minutes tops in his life with one of the worst offenders kinda being “Gigantitan” ngl.

So yeah, when I see that the portrait wants to tell me that prior to Emilies loss, Adrien - a 12-13 year old at most - is THIS used to rely solely on the strong bond he has with his mother and not even really reaching out for his fathers love, then I can't help but interpret it in the way that... Well... Gabriel was so distant and emotionally unreliable to Adrien for all his life, that Gabriel simply... wasn't needed by his son. Not at that point of time at least.

And while this may seem weird, because obviously Adrien only now starts to stop craving for his fathers affection and approval (which is btw a horrible, HORRIBLE thing and not something good. A half orphan losing the last remaining hope he had left of having the chance to finally get to form a bond with the only other parent he has left, just to be crushed by disappointment and abandonment all over again until he let's go, is REALLY NOT as much of a good thing people will make it out to be. This is... plain awful) it's actually quite logical.

Adriens hand outside the heart doesn't mean that his father meant nothing to him and therefore refuses to meet and accept his affection (that's literally the complete opposite of what the show shows us), it means that Adriens and Gabriels father-son relationship suffers from a fatal emotional disconnection caused by miscommunication/ a lack of communication.

And this was caused by Gabriel. How? Let me elaborate on that by going a bit far afield (cuz lbh we all have time for this. I’m writing this in quarantine and youre reading this is quarantine, so lets gooooooooooooo).

In "The bubbler" Adrien says that his father "always forgot his birthday", but I cannot agree with this in true honesty. Gabriel is controlling his sons entire life, calls him "the epitome of perfection" and temporarily truly gave up being Hawkmoth for him, he definitely never forgot Adriens birthday.

"The bubbler" even SHOWS us that Adriens perspective of the situation is actually not the truth:

This is Adriens first birthday after Emilies dissappearence and it's incredibly telling how Gabriel handles the planning.

What this entire little sequence tells me is that Gabriel is completely and UTTERLY used to NOT be the one to take care of anything related to Adriens birthday. So Emilie was always the one who did it but somehow - now without her - Gabriel apparently still hasn't even considered changing anything about that nasty non-involvement and just expected Natalie to pick everything up where Emilie left it.

Because let's be real here, knowing Natalie she would NOT have forgotten to get a present if Gabriel truly had told her to. Natalie is never presented to do mistakes like that but Gabriel on the other hand IS definitely presented to us claiming things about himself as ultimate, blameless and true when they simply do not reflect reality. A great example: Gorizilla

You didn’t even speared a minutes of your time for Adrien and he DID try to! Asshat… It's a problem guys. The lack of self awareness Gabriel displays in moments like this is legitimately concerning when you think about how deeply this man is falling right now.

But back to the topic:

Because even if Gabriel didn't even consider doing anything himself for Adriens birthday - not even taking the time to SEE his son (who just recently lost his mother, come on Gabe, really?) - one thing one cannot hold against him: he sure as hell remembered Adriens birthday like any decent parent would and it wasnt portrayed as a this-year-for-the-first-time thing.

And yet Adriens statement still makes complete sense. Because a big, BIG problem with Gabriel is just how much he takes things for granted. He EXPECTS things to be universally known and to never be doubted, just because that's how HE sees them. I will write 10 essays if it's needed to make people understand that Gabriel DOES truly love Adrien, it's just that Gabriel HIMSELF is such a rotten, twisted and toxic person that he cannot see how much his (oppressing) behavior and the way he (doesn't) express his love hurts Adrien and that HE is the one at fault. (for more, once again, read this)

Gabriel LOVES Adrien but he takes the love he feels as such a matter-of-fact that he just completely... forgets to show it.

And when we take Adriens words and look at the Family portrait it unfortunately seems that...

…. Gabriel ALWAYS forgot to show it.

Adriens hand - that should at least be reaching out to his father - is outside of the heart in accepting certainty. Because that's what Gabriels non-presence was for Adrien while growing up: an unreliable and unreachable certainty he had to accept early on as safer to not try to emotionally depend on too much or else he will get hurt.

So yeah, Adrien is the one in the portrait who is very openly not reaching out but only because Gabriel never gave him the needed affection and stability to be able to create that bond.

But let me correct what I said a little earlier: Adrien ALWAYS needed his father. Every kid, especially one in a bad situation like Adrien, does need their parents/friends etc as support system to become independent and confident in a healthy way. And if they don’t have that they WILL crave and look for it!

What Adrien has been doing up to now IS normal for a teenager - humans NEED affection, belonging and safety. What ISNT/SHOULDN’T be normal is Adriens disconnection towards his father in the portrait and just how much Gabriel fails to take care and BE THERE for his son in BOTH TIMES!

Collector:

Bother Christmas:

One thing I like about the show is that it portrays their young main cast with one very important truth: The psyche of a child/teenager of their age will react and adapt so it SURVIVES, even if it results in unfortunate consequences in other relationships and places. Thats the psyches main concern and it'll try to cope with the limited experience and development it has in whatever way necessary to get itself to the next day. A coping mechanism is not there to make you a better person, it ensures your SURVIVAL, everything else is a secondary concern.

So seeing pre-show Adrien not react to Gabriels touch and even feel completely unloved and disconnected from him is no surprise to me. Kids are incredibly observant. They may lack the needed experience and knowledge to truly understand that they deserve better and to stand up for themselves but they are masters in picking up red flags in people and can put this danger into perspective while comparing the different danger levels of their options of people and places to adjust their behavior.

Feast:

Stormy Weather 2:

So the broken connection between father and son we see in the portrait (that Gabriel doesn't even notice but Adrien fully internalized) isn’t there because Adrien “didnt needed” or wanted his father, its because Adrien NEEDED Gabriel so much in his isolated upbringing but Gabriel didn’t LET him need him - so Adrien had to adjust to that accordingly. Big, huge, ENORMOUS difference.

Honestly the most miraculous thing about Miraculous is that Adrien was able to bring up the strength to stay positive and friendly and to forgive Gabriel in hope for a better future. That boys situation is 7 kinds of depressing and traumatizing...

It's just flabbergasting to me how well this portrait shows how basically non-existent their relationship was at that point. And it's horrible to know that this estranged and unformed bond is all Adrien had left after Emilie dissappeared, just alot worse because after Emilie incident Adrien states that his father changed alot for the worse as well.

So to think that all Adrien had left wasn't even this former basically non-existent relationship with his aloof father - who would only barely show his true affection for his son because he's either not around enough to do so or he thinks it "unnecessary to proof his affection" for/to Adrien because he already thinks it so obvious and undoubtable.

Well he thought wrong. And GOSH, it breaks my heart!

So now comparing the "Gabriel" hand from Adrien with the one representing his connections with his mother conveys a pretty harsh contrast.

Because last but not least, let's take a look at Emilies hand placements:

But here is now an interesting difference to Adrien. Whereas we openly see that Adriens side of the Adrien-Gabriel relationship is completely disconnected from the heart/love - showcasing just how badly Adrien has always been neglected by his father - we don't see Emilies hand in her Emilie-Gabriel relationship AT ALL.

Once again just like with Adrien, this doesn't mean she didn't love her husband and that Gabriel was used and fooled by the woman he so utterly adored. It just means that from Emilies point of view things were a bit more complicated. What exactly this is, the portrait is keeping secret from us. We have no way of knowing if and how Emilie is returning her husbands gesture. All we can say is that if she does she is definitely not doing it in such an open and unconflicted way as she does with Adrien.

But since when has anything with this family been this easy?

One thing the portrait makes very clear, Adrien and Emilie had a strong and good bond. Definitely the healthiest because the Adrien-Emilie connection is the only one depicted without any kind of disruption from both sides. Both mother and son are reaching out for the other ones hand creating a whole half of the heart, showcasing their affection for another openly and without any of the implied doubts the other connections display. And honestly? Comparing all the hand placements, the one connecting Adrien and Emilie just comes across as strikingly pure and true (which makes it even worse that it was HER Adrien lost…)

As I said it's a HARSH contrast to the one Adrien shears with Gabriel. This contrast is highlighted even further by the way these three face on another.

Emilie and Adrien are positioned facing another and so are Emilie and Gabriel. Telling us that Emilie was "face-to-face" aka involved with both her husband and son. It is Adrien and Gabriel were this looks wildly different. These two have no way of seeing each other in the eyes the way they stand now/then, further displaying their deeply rooted disconnection. It's portrays perfectly how important Emilie was in this family dynamic, because even though Adrien and Gabriel bearly had a connection at all they at least had Emilie as a link between them, keeping the family together. But then they lost her and where this left both father and son off we know oh too well...

So to collect all the informations we get out if this portrait:

-Adriens and Emilies relationship was the strongest and purest. Both of their hands connect and reach out for another in the heart, showcasing that they had a loving and positive bond.

-Adriens and Gabriels relationship is heavily scarred by a deeply rooted disconnection leaving Adrien feeling unloved and unwanted by his father to the point where Adriens side of their dynamic is outside the heart altogether. Gabriel may love and adore his son just like he loves his wife and never thought he displayed his love for him in a lacking way, but fact is: this love never reached Adrien the way it should have and Adrien is the one in their dynamic who got severely hurt and damaged by it.

-Gabriel was the only one completely unconflicted and happily at peace with the former Family situation. He's reaching out to both his family members with open love and affection in blissful oblivion that neither his wife nor son could return them the same way (to different degrees for different reasons). Gabriel was the ONLY ONE in the Agreste family who didn't saw problems in their lives and thought them all happy, hence why he's so obsessed with changing the past and bringing THIS state of their family back. He was happy and he had everything he needed and loved right with him, of course he wants THIS back. He's not aware that Emilie and ESPECIALLY Adrien did not feel the same about their former situation and that bringing all of them back to this is not the perfect happy ending for their entire family as he thinks.

-Emilie may not have been as unconflicted with Gabriel as he was with her but she is NOT feeling the same disconnection her son feels and isn't depicted with negative feelings towards Gabriel. Her side in the Emilie-Gabriel relationship is neither shown outright positive as with her son or outright bad as Adrien with Gabriel. Her side of their bond is depicted through her unseen hand placement in the unknown area in between.

-Despite their not so unconflicted feelings towards Gabriel - and Gabriel himself being aloof - neither Emilie nor Adrien are actively trying to cut Gabriel out. They aren't flinching away from his touch or exclude him from the heart whatsoever. He's happily included, obviously feeling loved. They may not be 100% happy and Gabriel doesn't notice it, but they aren't denying him his happiness and make him unhappy. Again, he's the only one truly happy here. Something neither Emilie nor Adrien tried to take away from him.

-Emilie and Adrien are facing each other as do Emilie and Gabriel, implying the presence of communication and a bond. Adrien and Gabriel do not face each other, showing their disconnected bond. If they could see each others face Adrien would have been able to see that Gabriels hand is a gesture of genuine affection and Gabriel could see that Adriens expression does not exactly display pure happiness the way he thinks. This also goes for Emilie. Emilie just like her husband is placed BEHIND her son, so even if she is facing him she would not be able to really see just how much Adrien is not satisfied and truly happy with his life at that point (meaning how unhappy being looked up, friendless and at distance with his father actually makes him).

- This fascinating family makes me sad and I like it lol

#Miraculous #Miraculous Ladybug #adrien agreste #Gabriel Agreste #Emilie Agreste #family agreste #Agreste tragedy #natalie sancoeur #Agreste family portrait #Chat Noir #Cat Noir #hawkmoth #le papillon #ml analysis #this family is fascinatingly depressing to think about #I love them #I want Adrien safe and sound and loved with the Dupain-Changs #because everything Agreste is doomed and I want my son to be happy #Gabriel Agreste needs priorities #and Emilie needs to tell me what the fuck she did to set all of this off

[ibijau]

Concubine nhs pt11 / on AO3

It is odd to exist in this little house and not have a purpose, Nie Huaisang decides a few weeks after being discarded. For three years his entire life has revolved around the emperor, his only wish being to distract him from his duties to make him happy. Now the emperor is miserable whenever he visits, and Nie Huaisang isn't allowed to do anything about that. Not when the emperor has made it very clear that he is now disgusted by the idea of any intimacy between them, and talking feels so awkward.

If he cannot kiss him, or please him in bed, if they cannot laugh or even talk, Nie Huaisang doesn't know what the point of everything is anymore. 

His days are emptier than ever. His nights no longer bring any comfort. Nie Huaisang is miserable.

Worse, Nie Huaisang is bored. A deep, insidious boredom that taints every moment he’s awake, that even pursues him in his dreams sometimes, or makes it impossible to sleep, denying him even that relief.

If he weren't so constantly bored, Nie Huaisang wouldn't have started checking those documents the emperor now brings with him when he visits. He’s perfectly aware that he shouldn’t do that all. It’s not his business, it’s politics, it’ll land him in trouble, but... 

But the emperor always falls asleep long before him, and always ends up in terrible positions in that stupid sofa, and half the time he forgets to use a blanket. Nie Huaisang has to make sure the emperor doesn't catch a cold. And then those documents are right there, and he's so bored. 

The books Lan Qiren sends him don't last as long as they used to, now that he doesn't have to stop reading them at night. They're also less interesting, at least those newest batches: treaties on how to analyse texts, or write essays. It's all so painfully boring that by comparison, official reports filled with numbers are pretty interesting. 

Nie Huaisang doesn't mean to read that stuff, it just happens. And the first time it happens, he stops as soon as he realises what he's doing. It's politics, and he's sworn to himself he'd never get involved in that. He scolds himself very hard that first time, and the second one too. Even the third time. But the fourth time… 

The fourth time is different.

The thing is, Nie Huaisang is pretty good with numbers. That's the reason why his father relented and finally recognised him. Nie Huaisang can't read the classics with ease because he’s still learning some of those less common characters. He values fun stories over respected ones, which isn’t what a real scholar could do. And he can't quite say what makes a good poem better than a bad one, he just likes them or he doesn’t. But he's quick at counting and has a natural knack for arithmetics. That's why his father put him in charge of organising banquets and overseeing finances, and he likes to think he saved them some good money in the time he held that duty.

So when he starts noticing discrepancies on those imperial reports, Nie Huaisang doesn't really think. He does what he would have done for his father, and writes down everything he notices. Because he doesn't quite understand what those reports are about, Nie Huaisang doesn't dare to guess why the numbers are wrong. He just knows that they are. So he leaves his notes on the table for the emperor to find when he wakes up, and hope that will be helpful.

He just so badly wants to be helpful. Maybe if he shows that he can still be useful, the emperor will start smiling at him again, or even talk to him.

Nie Huaisang just feels so lonely and bored. 

Later, when it is light again and he's alone in his little house, Nie Huaisang wonders if that was the right thing to do. Since nobody comes to drag him out of his cage to publicly whip him as an example to others, it can't have been wrong. But the emperor doesn't visit for a full three days after that, so maybe it wasn't right either. 

On the third day, the emperor's brother visits, and sheds some light on that long absence. 

"Brother has been given proof that the magistrate in the region of Yunping City was corrupt, and hindering the war effort," the prince explains, which might be the most Nie Huaisang ever heard him say at once. "Urgent measures had to be taken."

Nie Huaisang doesn't dare to ask, and stares at his glass of tea. That report he wrote notes on was definitely about Yunping City. It means he might have become involved in politics after all, against his will. As if he can afford to be making enemies, in his position. 

"Due to this situation, I will leave for Yunping City," the prince announces. "I will work with Lord Jiang to restore the situation. Consort Nie knows him?" 

"Only a little," Nie Huaisang meekly protests. "He is a friend of my father. This humble one knows his children a little, and his ward Wei Wuxian, but not that well." 

The prince nods, and takes a sip of tea. That should be the end of it. The prince never speaks much, and he’s just used more words than he usually does in an entire month. Surely he’s told Nie Huaisang everything he had to say on that matter.

Right?

"Jiang gongzi and Wei gongzi are to assist me," The prince explains, putting down his glass. "Will consort Nie tell me about them? I want to know what to expect." 

Nie Huaisang frowns at that request. 

"Surely there are many others in the palace who can tell you that? This one is only a humble servant's son, his knowledge is too imperfect to be useful." 

"Others can have their opinion," the prince retorts. "I wish to hear consort Nie's." 

A direct order from the imperial prince cannot be denied, least of all by a concubine fallen out of favour. Sick with worry at the prospect of being again dragged into politics, Nie Huaisang still does what he's told and gives as honest a portrait of Wei Wuxian and Jiang Wanyin as he can. He makes sure to point out their qualities, which are many, but also acknowledges their faults: Jiang Cheng's temper, Wei Wuxian's overconfidence, and the way they only really shine when they work together. 

It appears to please the prince, who thanks Nie Huaisang for his answers before taking his leave. He will write from Yunping City, he says, and might ask again for Nie Huaisang’s opinion in the future. 

"Please don't," Nie Huaisang begs. "This humble one is unworthy of such an honour." 

The prince doesn't reply, and Nie Huaisang is left alone to wonder if he's made another mistake. 

That night, the emperor visits again. He doesn't speak about those notes Nie Huaisang left him, though several times he stares at his concubine as if he were on the verge of saying something, only to change his mind at the last minute. His expression is so intense each time that Nie Huaisang ends up pretending to fall asleep just so the emperor will stop looking at him like that.

He takes notice of the fact that this time, the emperor brought a book with him, not reports. Nie Huaisang figures it's a message that his intervention, though perhaps useful, is resented. 

Nobody wants to owe anything to a mere concubine. 

After that one incident, life returns to normal. Or at least, as what passes for normal these days. 

Nie Huaisang is lonelier than ever. The emperor ignores him when he spends the night in the little house. The emperor's uncle, who was supposed to visit and find him a teacher, is too busy to do either due to having to take over some of the prince’s duties. And since that same prince is far away in Yunping City, even that last illusion of companionship has been torn away. 

Nie Huaisang is lonely. 

Nie Huaisang is miserable. 

So miserable, in fact, that he can't even rejoice when the aviary the emperor built for him is finally complete. Of course he puts on a smile when there is a banquet to celebrate this happy occasion, and plays perfectly his role of a cheerful concubine. He almost fools himself into feeling grateful and happy. Maybe he is happy, sitting again with the emperor, seeing him smile like this. It's easy to pretend, when Nie Huaisang so dearly misses how happy they used to be. 

But the next day, when he visits his aviary again, alone this time, Nie Huaisang only feels more depressed than ever. He wants to open every door to every cage, and let those expensive birds fly away. They all look as sad as he feels. But of course just like him, they probably wouldn't know how to survive outside a cage anymore.

If it were up to him, Nie Huaisang would never look at his aviary again. 

It isn't up to him. 

If he doesn't go, it will be noticed, he knows, just as it would be noticed if the emperor stopped coming to see him. If Nie Huaisang doesn’t check on his pretty new birds, people will say that the emperor spent a fortune spoiling a concubine who won't be satisfied with even the most expensive of presents. They will say the emperor is weak and foolish, or worse things even, and Nie Huaisang can't bear it. 

So he visits his birds daily. It is a punishment for fooling the emperor, for playing his father' s games. For being foolish enough to fall in love, when Meng Yao once warned him it is the one mistake a concubine should never make. At the time, Nie Huaisang hadn't understood. He does now. Being discarded would hurt so much less if he could only stop caring. 

But that's life now. Reading boring volumes selected by the emperor's uncle, spending time with birds he doesn't want, being ignored all night by the emperor himself. A new routine, much worse than the old one he used to have. 

A routine that finally shatters when one day, Nie Huaisang finds a stranger in his aviary, looking at his birds. 

Although there were many guests at the celebration to mark the completion of that aviary, the emperor made it clear that no one but Nie Huaisang, himself, and the servants attached to the aviary are allowed to come there. If the emperor were to have given permission to anyone else, he would surely have warned Nie Huaisang. And that boy's clothes are just good enough to make it clear that he cannot be a servant. 

He definitely is just a boy though, probably younger than Nie Huaisang by a few years. And yet there's a certain air to him, as if in spite of his youth, that boy knows more about life than some people much older than him. He just sounds so sad as he greets the talking birds. 

If that boy had been cheerful, or confident, Nie Huaisang could easily have chased him away. Happy people annoy him, when he has so little left to be joyful about. But seeing someone as depressed as himself makes his heart ache, reminding him how very lonely he is. 

Nie Huaisang watches that boy trying to chat with a pair of mynahs in a gentle voice that borders on hopeless, and comes to a decision.

"They're not very chatty," he says, startling the boy. "At least, not yet. I'm still working on teaching them to talk." 

The boy stares at him for a moment, then bows quickly and a little clumsily, betraying that he hasn't been trained for the imperial palace. Nie Huaisang remembers how he struggled as well when his father acknowledged him, when he came to the capital, and feels his heart swell again with sympathy. 

"Are you in charge of training them?" the boy hesitantly asks.

Since the emperor has made it clear that he no longer enjoys seeing Nie Huaisang covered in fineries, most of the time he dresses quite simply. It’s easier to put on, and it makes him feel a little less like a liar. He misses the fine silks and heavy gold sometimes, but plain clothes are more honest. Still, his clothes are only plain by comparison to the more extravagant outfits he used to wear for the emperor. Anyone glancing at him would take him for the privileged son of a great family… which he is, he supposes.

The point is, that boy must have already guessed that Nie Huaisang isn’t just one of the servants looking after the birds, so he doesn’t see any point in hiding.

"They're mine, actually," Nie Huaisang says, only to instantly regret it. 

The boy's eyes open wide, his face turning ashen before he falls to his knees and kowtow before Nie Huaisang, his entire body shaking with terror. 

"T-this humble one didn't realise! This humble one begs for your highness's mercy!"

Distressed by that strong reaction, Nie Huaisang takes a step back.

"I'm no highness."

"Your highness must be consort Nie!” the boy cries out. “This humble one never meant to intrude! This one knows no one is allowed here, but I really had to check, and… may his highness show mercy, though this one is undeserving!"

Nie Huaisang blinks. 

He knows, of course, that he's technically someone important. Servants are always very careful around him, and he has (had) the emperor's favour, which he could easily use to get his way, if he were so inclined. But since he lives in such isolation, and only leaves his little house for official occasions where everyone’s behaviour is strictly regimented by custom, it's rare for him to actually encounter anyone who might feel they owe him such open deference. 

He doesn't particularly enjoy it, he quickly decides.

"Please get up," he orders. "I'm guessing you came here by accident?" 

Refusing to stand up, the boy nods. 

"I was looking for my young master,” he explains in a pitiful voice. “I am a companion to a young lord called Ouyang Zizhen, and he escaped from me a little while ago when playing." 

The name Ouyang is familiar, but only vaguely. They might be related in some way to the emperor's late mother, though Nie Huaisang doesn't think the emperor is particularly close to them. Lord Ouyang is just closely related enough to be allowed to live inside the palace, but his son will likely not be allowed to remain there after his death. Anyway, the emperor rarely mentions them, and Nie Huaisang is pretty sure their son is a lot younger than this boy. 

Noble families like to bring in companions for their sons, as was done for the emperor, because they think it makes them look important.But sometimes what they really want is just a glorified nanny they don’t have to actually pay.

"What's your name?" Nie Huaisang asks. 

"This humble one is Mo Xuanyu." 

The name Mo doesn't ring a bell at all. They must be very minor in rank, or just rich merchants. Either way, people like that would take it as an honour to send one of their sons to the imperial palace, even if it’s just to serve an unimportant family. Being a young lord’s companion would give Mo Xuanyu the chance of a free education, at least if the family he’s serving treats him with any decency. They don’t always, as Nie Huaisang knows. The emperor complained about that sometimes, saying some families were very cruel to their sons’ companions.

But that was back when they would actually talk.

Nie Huaisang can’t remember when was the last time anyone talked to him.

He misses talking.

"Do you like birds, Mo Xuanyu ?" 

"Y-yes, your highness." 

"Me too. Do you know what species are here?" 

Puzzled by that question, Mo Xuanyu dares to look up as he shakes his head. Nie Huaisang grins, and kneels next to him, grabbing the boy's arm to force him back on his feet. It might be a mistake, but he’s been lonely so long, and Mo Xuanyu, in spite of his obvious fear, is actually talking to him.

Nie Huaisang wonders if that’s how the emperor felt that night, when he spoke to him with such insolence in the Unclean Realm. He quickly pushes the thought away. The situations are completely different, because Mo Xuanyu knows who he is.

"Do you want me to give you a tour?" Nie Huaisang asks.

After some hesitation, Mo Xuanyu shakes his head and bows away.

"I should really go find my master," he mumbles. "It's not that I don't want… I mean, this humble one would be honoured, those birds are all so pretty, and I really like… but I can’t, I have to…" 

"Duty calls, I understand,” Nie Huaisang replies. “But then, do you think you might come here again another day? I give you permission, so you won't get punished if you do. And then I can tell you more about the birds, if you’d like." 

Mo Xuanyu's expression is so funny as he eagerly nods, full of awe and wonder. Nie Huaisang almost laughs. 

He hasn’t wanted to laugh in so long.

He knows he probably shouldn't talk like this to a near stranger. He should be prudent, check the status of the Ouyang family, find out who the Mo are, and ask about Mo Xuanyu's reputation. But it has been so long since Nie Huaisang spoke to anyone, and he can't help the sense of kinship he gets when he looks at Mo Xuyanyu. They're the same, he can just tell: small and lonely, thrown into a world where they don't belong, forced to make the best of choices others made for them. 

But Mo Xuanyu shyly promises to visit the aviary again, and Nie Huaisang is happy. 

He hopes they can be friends.

#xisang #nie huaisang #lan xichen #mo xuanyu #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #jau writes #concubine au #a new player has entered the game

[vervainvoyage]

Fair warning, this is about my personal feelings towards Frozen 2 and I’m just a casual movie watcher. And I’m horribly late to the party.

So I haven’t thought about Frozen 2 in a long time, but youtube recommended a movie review video of it to me, and it made me remember how disappointed I was with the direction the movie took. I’m no movie critic, so I won’t write a well thought out essay on every single plot decision that was made, I will only focus on one aspect - the Show Yourself song and how it broke my heart when I was watching the scene, because it’s so... lonely.

So the movie starts with Elsa feeling directionless and just not too great mentally speaking. She felt isolated in the first movie, and we see that she didn’t entirely stop feeling that. She goes on a journey to find her purpose and find someone similar to her, someone who will have answers that she cannot get by herself. She is looking for a purpose, her place in the world, and she wants someone to connect with but feels she cannot confide in her sister. She even ends up pushing her sister away again... quite literally. Down a mountain.

And then Show Yourself comes. This hopeful call towards someone, which has a response! It sounds like a love song! It’s building up with the promise of not being alone anymore! And Elsa arrives, finallly, to find... no one waiting for her. There is. No one. She is alone, and has always been alone, and has been singing to no one this whole time. Imagine spending an entire movie looking for someone to connect with and not... finding... anyone.

Oh sure they try to spin it into “it is a love song, but to herself!” She was directionless but now she isn’t -somehow- because in the span of this song she realized she didn’t really need anyone.” But it turns out she does need someone still, otherwise Elsa would have stayed frozen in an ice berg... And we don’t quite get to see what changed her mind, not really, she just sees some colors and flips from not knowing what to do with herself to knowing, but we as the audience don’t get to know what that purpose is. It’s too nebulous, just “be the 5th spirit” which doesn’t mean anything to us because we didn’t get any explanations at all. She sees some memories of long dead people and supposedly has all the answers, but I honestly cannot tell what these answers are? This is the core conflict of the movie and it gets resolved with “she’s fine now because we said so, don’t ask questions.” She was supposed to find a connection, but the only person she feels a connection to in that chamber is, may I repeat, long dead and definitely unreachable.

So this song broke my heart and stomped on it, because the message I got from it was “are you feeling lonely? Directionless? Like you don’t belong? Do you desperately want someone to understand you? No no no, YOU are the only person you need! Girl power :) Figure stuff out by yourself! And forget about depending on others. Having emotional support in the lowest point of your life isn’t very Girl Power of you. Do everything on your own.”

And as someone who had to go to therapy for a few years, who didn’t want to fully confide in my family and needed some outside perspective - which no, I couldn’t get all by myself just by trying hard enough... may I say, go fuck yourself Frozen 2. Elsa starts the movie feeling lonely and ends the movie withdrawing further into herself and into the wilderness to stay even more alone, negating everything she learned in the first movie. My therapist wouldn’t call that progress.

#frozen 2 #elsa #frozen #disney

[a-shakespearean-in-paris]

Why Cullen?

Today I bring you a post I’ve been in the process of mentally drafting for a while, a post that essentially analyzes the age old question in the Dragon Age fandom: Why is there always something with Cullen?

To do this, I am going to go through different “phases” of Cullen discourse. My thesis and answering the titular question: It’s complicated, and I don’t think I can answer “Why Cullen,” but “there’s sometimes recycled discourses made about his character through the years, maybe there’s a pattern.” When it comes to Cullen’s detractors, I understand the fact that it might be frustrating to see much content for someone so “boring” when there’s more “interesting” and “well done” characters (though interest is of course relevant) so it leads to a lot of vitriol from both new and old fans who think the man had too much screen time already. Furthermore, he is highly complicated man dressed as a Disney prince, and the “Disney-esque” feel of his romance creates a dissonance between coming to terms with his problematic past and reveling in the romanticism. We can have a happy medium everyone,  but because of what I can only describe as “tik tok thought” it’s become looked down upon to have problematic favorites, which leads to guilt in liking something problematic, or outright revisionism.

But liking things with problematic elements doesn’t make you a bad person.

Alright, let’s begin: 

The first phase truly began of course with DAO with Cullen’s crush on the female Circle Mage Warden. Some were endeared, others not so much. I cannot speak to this phase too much as I was around 15-16 and pretty preoccupied with my high school drama instead of fandom, though I played both DAO and DA2 upon it’s release and followed updates for DA2 before it came out. Despite not being an active fandom member I was what they would call, a lurker. I knew some people liked Cullen and thought he was cute, wishing for more screen time after the game and hoping he’d be in DAI through IMDB message boards (remember those?) and YoutTube comments. When news broke he’d be an advisor in DAI and a romance option, I remember seeing a lot of people in those same spaces rejoice. I’m sure there were also people who weren’t so pleased, but from what I saw, people were happy. When Inquisition did release, I actually did quite a bit more lurking on tumblr despite the fact I didn’t have a blog, because I played the romance route, really gravitated toward it, and wanted to see fanart and such. People liked the romance, liked his arc and how Bioware handled his struggles with lyrium; and found it realistic. Even in my lurking days I did see some blowback on Cullen from detractors, those who didn’t think he should have been the military advisor (which canonically it makes total sense to me why he’s where he’s at, but I won’t get into it here however.) But likely because I wasn’t fully “in fandom,” my surface level understanding of how tumblr felt about Cullen was relatively positive and there was only standard fare discourse.

Phase 2: I can speak about this phase better because I established this blog in 2017. Two years after DAI was released, you still had a lot of fans who loved his romance and character, but you also saw a lot of those fans really dive into his flaws, insisting even that just focusing on the Disney Prince aspects of him reduced his character. There were also more internal debates. Would realistically Cullen be a good father was one. One thing however was for sure, there was a strange them and us line between detractors and fans, and to many fans, myself included, oftentimes the Cullen blowback would extend beyond the valid, “hey I don’t think his characterization was handled well” or “his redemption arc isn’t that great” to outright vitriolic hate that blatantly ignored his PTSD and lyrium addiction, and even sometimes “you just like Cullen because he’s white.” As a POC fan it was a fantastic thing to be accused of. I used to be more involved with discord during this period and I remember a few discussions about this as well. Even those indifferent to Cullen didn’t get it.

Overall, I have to say the air was one where people in Cullen fandom enjoyed all aspects of him, from delving into this troubled past to indulging in the Disney prince aspects of him. It was a happy medium I think, even if occasionally I would see a Cullen fan feel bad for liking him, and feel like they needed to justify it. Heck I even did and still do feel that way sometimes, like I need to justify what I like. But we all come into fandom for different reasons. I come into fandom some days for different things. Sometimes I want smut with my favorite character, other times I want more intense thought pieces and challenging fics. Great thing about fandom is that it’s a bakery that has cherry tarts, cinnamon rolls, or all kinds of pie depending on your mood. Craving a different sweet treat, you can make your own. Or you can commission an artist or writer for something you fancy.

*(sexual assault mentions here late in the paragraph****)And now I’ve been warped back into Cullen/DA fandom through what I am calling phase three, where the general air on Cullen reads as….very different. After having one foot outside DA fandom for a while coming back and reading the air has been different. There was the bizarre nuggetgate and other things with Cullen. Now, instead of accepting his flaws and exploring him there seems to be a lot of revisionism going on, as if his past never happened or we’re supposed to ignore he was a templar. A sexually active Cullen is looked down upon but in a different way from before. Instead of smut works with him “reducing his complicated character.” it’s distasteful to write smut with him where he’s sexually dominant or even just a lot of smut because he was sexually assaulted. (***Now, it is implied that he was, if you are a female Circle mage in DAO, with “sifting through my thoughts, tempting me with the one thing I always wanted but could never have” but this is an implication. I will be honest, it is what I have implied. However, it’s not there if you’re not a female Mage. He was however canonically sexually harassed in the Winter Palace, something I will always argue, even if canon treats it like a joke, even if Leliana tells him to “just look pretty.” Just because he is a man doesn’t make it funny that someone grabbed his bottom, and if you take Cole he flat out says “Cullen is afraid.”***)

So here I am, wondering what changed and what’s going on. Here’s what I believe: Cullen is a complicated character and his flaws and his past make him interesting to me, and they are interesting to explore. However there is nothing wrong with wanting to just explore a romantic, sexual Cullen. He’s a character with many facets. He’s romantic, determined, nostalgic, stubborn, unrelenting, loyal, driven, all things that made him seem so real. Here we get to my theory: in today’s media “criticisms” I see people—particularly younger people—beat themselves up for liking something problematic. It’s like every time you engage with media that’s potentially problematic you have to write essays to yourself why it is so and hold yourself accountable. I see this on tik-tok a lot and why I refer to it as “tik tok thought.” Look at the way some young Hamilton fans talk about the musical, or heck even here, and you may see what I mean. It’s like if you don’t acknowledge the problematic aspects of the historical figures behind their fictional portrayals in the show you’re a bad person. Same thing with nostalgic Disney fans my age in younger, if you don’t clown on Ariel for “choosing a man over anything” (SHE LIKED THE SURFACE WORLD BEFORE SHE MET ERIC) you don’t get your brownie points.

I want to make it clear: being critical of media is good. I am glad I see young people and people my age think about the messages we are given in media, but somehow this is turned into ANALYZE EVERYTHING ALL THE TIME. Ya’ll I’m a grad student. I’m critical most of the time, when I come to my tumblr blog’s lawn I’m here mostly to have some fun, and hey sometimes my fun is being critical. But sometimes it isn’t. You do not have to always be critical. You do not have to beat yourself up for liking something that’s problematic or write an essay about why it is as if that’s your due diligence in stanning a fictional character. I’m going to be honest I used to kind of think I had to justify my likes once, especially because of the Cullen vitriol on tumblr. I worked overtime in my early fanfic efforts to try to prove to the world I knew Cullen was problematic for fear I’d be perceived as just an idiot horny fangirl. Well, let me tell you: I largely don’t think that way anymore. If I want to just enjoy writing some smut or reading some smut with him, I am. But I think there is a second part of this in Cullen fandom currently, a revisionism of his problematic elements. Now, if you have to do mental gymnastics with a character in an effort to ignore problematic elements, perhaps you don’t like the character that much. That’s totally okay. DA has many awesome characters to write about and stan.

So, why Cullen? For so many reasons a bit of a shit show has always followed this character. There’s a divide between fans and his detractors and sometimes there’s a divide within the Cullen fandom. What I can extrapolate for now is the need to keep him squeaky clean and safe and away from anything “problematic” because his of past, his templar roots, or the fact that he’s white when there are POC characters with less content. It reads as a guilt associated with liking him. But please, do not be guilty. He’s not real. Templars aren’t real, mages aren’t real, Cullen isn’t real. Here’s my advice, something I learned while in my directing class in college. What my teacher always said was direct what turns you on, direct a story that gets you thinking, gets you excited. What gets you thinking and excited in a fictional world may be tons of conflict and dramatics, or it may be peace and love. Sometimes it can be both or more. Don’t shame others for coming to a bakery and wanting blueberry when you want cherry, and the baker has both, especially if the baker labels each pie, especially if the recipe for the pie has some salt in it and people like the salt. We can have it all and enjoy it all. What we want in our fiction doesn’t always align with something we may want real life. Lots of people write Modern girl in Thedas stories. Ya’ll if that actually happened to one of us it would probably suck. I’d probably get killed and not even get to meet Cullen and pose around the desk to get things going, so I’d rather it not happen. However, it is fun to read about.

Again, don’t be guilty for liking Cullen, please. But if you have to do a lot of mental gymnastics to like Cullen, maybe you don’t like him at all. To that I say, there are many other amazing characters, or perhaps you could write your own.

#fandom critical #I spent too long on this #deleted a lot #but now it's written and I can move on #Cullen rutherford

[foxghost]

Joyful Reunion, Chapter 111

Translator: foxghost @foxghost tumblr/ko-fi1 Beta: meet-me-in-oblivion @meet-me-in-oblivion tumblr Original by 非天夜翔 Fei Tian Ye Xiang Masterpost | Characters, Maps & Other Reference Index

Book 3, Chapter 24 (Part 6)

Duan Ling has just arrived in Mu Qing’s room, but they barely manage to say anything to each other before he’s called back again. This time, Chang Pin tactfully leaves the room, shutting the door behind him, and tells Wu Du not to go in, leaving Mu Kuangda and Duan Ling to themselves.

Mu Kuangda is no longer angry; he considers Duan Ling and says, “I had a banquet set up last night, and Huang Jian waited for you two the whole night and you never showed up. You’ll need to make him an apology.”

“Certainly,” Duan Ling says humbly.

Two cunning foxes, keeping the quiet parts unsaid; of course Mu Kuangda’s not about to spew garbage like telling Duan Ling not to let anyone know what happened the night before, and of course Duan Ling isn’t about to go around telling everyone either.

“Do you remember what the contents of the letters were? It does seem rather strange for Mongolians to send letters to each other in Han.”

One lie only begets more lies to make the first lie work — Duan Ling has somehow forgotten all about that, and he can but say, “It really was in Han. I also wondered why and found it rather odd.”

Mu Kuangda falls silent for a moment. “Write it out and let’s see.”

Duan Ling picks up the brush, and imitating Batu’s tone, he fabricates the first letter. “I don’t quite remember all the details clearly.”

Mu Kuangda calls for Chang Pin. “Go to the library and bring the last letter Borjigin Batu sent.”

Duan Ling’s heart beats wildly in his chest, and he writes out a second page. He stacks the two sheets of paper together. “The second letter was also written by Batu, but that was regarding the alliance. I don’t really remember what it said.”

By the time he finishes, Chang Pin has already brought them another letter. He sets it down in front of Mu Kuangda. Mu Kuangda compares them with a glance. “It does indeed sound like the Mongolian prince.”

It’s yet another checkpoint that Duan Ling has passed, and he lets out an inward breath of relief. Chang Pin gives it a casual look and smiles. “This handwriting of yours bears some resemblance to his, actually.”

In their younger days Duan Ling was the one who taught Batu most of his Han writing, studying and essay-composition. Duan Ling is only realising this point now. “Really?”

He takes the letter and looks over it carefully. Seeing Batu’s familiar handwriting still plagued with many grammatical mistakes, Duan Ling finds it both funny and familiar, and he cannot help but miss him. A mix of feelings rises into his heart.

“Borjigin Batu grew up in Shangjing,” Chang Pin says. “That much is true. He must have learned how to write in Han, and as Jochi never learned to read, Batu’s forgotten the ancestor’s Mongolian — he may only be able to speak Mongolian, but not write it, and that’s why he sends all his messages in Han.”

“On the contrary, I have a feeling that,” Mu Kuangda stares at the letter that Duan Ling has just written, “it’s highly probable that Batu doesn’t want others among his own people to know, and in order to stop this news from spreading and the situation from getting out of control, he wrote his letters to Amga and Khatanbaatar in Han.”

Duan Ling is rather grateful to Mu Kuangda; after all, he’s somehow justified Duan Ling’s lie for him.

“Never mind,” Mu Kuangda says, “we’ll just keep this for now and verify it later.” He then hands all three letters to Chang Pin for him to put away, and says to Duan Ling, “Wang Shan, I’m giving you a holiday so you can go home and visit your parents. You must come back in fifteen days to assist Master Chang Pin, and that’ll give you a chance to learn how to manage the estate as well.”

Duan Ling realises that this means he’s finally through the ordeal, and he gives Mu Kuangda a bow before withdrawing from the room.

“I have discovered that no matter what happens,” Chang Pin says, “Wang Shan always looks like that. He’s rather poised.”

“He can take on great responsibilities, and in the future we should take the time to nurture him. Something like this friendship between him and Qing’er is hard to come by, after all. Chang Pin, it seems we’ll have to make changes to our plans again.”

Chang Pin falls silent for a moment, and then he replies with a nod.

It’s a bright and sunny day. In the palace, Li Yanqiu is sitting in one of the palace halls, and the only person near him is Zheng Yan.

“You have got to be kidding me.” Li Yanqiu’s eyes narrow once he finishes listening to him.

Zheng Yan doesn’t speak, and merely stares at Li Yanqiu.

“Who else heard what he said?”

“Chang Liujun, Wuluohou Mu, Wu Du, Feng Duo, as well as Wang Shan from the chancellor’s estate.”

“There’s absolutely no way. How are we supposed to explain the Sword of the Realm? Would the late emperor teach his style to someone not of the family?”

“But what if even the late emperor was fooled? After all, Amga never explained the actual situation. If Wuluohou Mu was the one who swindled the late emperor to begin with …”

"If even he was fooled, then that’s fine by me. He’s already decided that’s his son, so who are we to say differently?”

Zheng Yan is struck dumb all of a sudden. He absolutely couldn’t have expected Li Yanqiu to say a thing like that.

“The crown prince seeks an audience,” the eunuch outside sing-songs.

Cai Yan is here, looking in rather good spirits. He glances at Zheng Yan, and gives him a nod. Li Yanqiu gazes at Cai Yan; Cai Yan greets him for the day first before sitting down on his knees at Li Yanqiu’s side without saying anything, just keep smiling at him.

“What is it?” Li Yanqiu asks him, “Did you miss me?”

“The Mongolians say I’m an imposter,” Cai Yan says.

Zheng Yan’s expression darkens a smidgen, but Li Yanqiu says to Cai Yan, “You don’t have to worry about what they say.”

Cai Yan adds, “That’s what they said back then too.”

Li Yanqiu carefully scans Cai Yan’s face, and suddenly breaks into a smile. Cai Yan, on the other hand, has stopped speaking, his eyes reddening, turning his gaze away.

Li Yanqiu reaches out for the back of Cai Yan’s neck to embrace him, and so Cai Yan leans on Li Yanqiu’s shoulder and begins to sob.

“You’re still thinking about all those things I said back then, aren’t you? You hold a grudge as much as your dad did. I still remember that on the day you came back you hugged me and cried just like this as well.”

Cai Yan keeps sobbing, trembling all over. Li Yanqiu says, “Once the third day of the third month passes, two years will have passed since then. I don’t even cry anymore, so how come you’re still like a child who can’t seem to grow up.”

Zheng Yan is still observing Cai Yan though, his brows drawn tight together, unsure momentarily if Cai Yan is acting.

Cai Yan rubs his face against Li Yanqiu’s shoulder, and so Li Yanqiu glances at Zheng Yan to tell him to leave the room, while holding onto Cai Yan and giving him endless words of comfort.

In a fluttering sea of peach blossoms, Duan Ling returns home, but Wu Du is nowhere to be found. As soon as he gets home he goes looking for those two sheets of paper, but when he opens the case it’s to find that they’re gone!

Duan Ling is shocked before he sees the slip of paper Wu Du has left for him in the sword case: I await you beneath the bridge.

Duan Ling’s soul has nearly been scared half out of his body, but once he figures out that Wu Du is just teasing him, he looks around, feeling rather paranoid. He packs up his things, leaves the house, and spies Wu Du’s figure flash past the alleyway. Come to think of it, even if Wu Du is playing with him, he wouldn’t dare stray too far.

Three mountains surround the shores of the Yangtze and nine rivers coil through the city of spring; waterways crisscross Jiangzhou, and nine bridges set atop limestone paths while small boats travel to and fro. Many fishermen pole their boats along the waterways, filled to the brim with river food to sell along the shore.

Peach blossoms fill the air. The main street isn’t far from the bridge, and once he’s under the bridge, Duan Ling looks around in every direction. His head bumps into a peach branch, and he immediately looks up.

Wu Du is leaning over the railing and smiling at Duan Ling below; Duan Ling runs up the bridge, but with a quick dodge, by then Wu Du has already run away.

“Wu Du! You stand right there!”

Wu Du stands at the end of the bridge looking perfectly proper. Duan Ling runs to him, and in the sunlight, Wu Du’s smile is more handsome than anything; his black martial artist robes make him look ever more soldierly in the warmth of spring. Duan Ling can’t help but take another step forward and wrap his arms around him.

“What is it?” Wu Du asks.

“What’s with you?” Duan Ling asks him in return, “Where’s the stuff?”

Wu Du gives his scabbard a pat. “My sword, my life; its death, my death.”

Duan Ling drops his head in his hand. “Why do you all like to keep important stuff in your scabbards?”

But come to think of it, aside from that hapless Amga, a scabbard for one’s sword or sabre is the best hiding place when it comes to things carried on one’s person. After all, to an assassin, their sword is always near at hand.

“Where’re we goin’?” Duan Ling asks, “Is something the matter?”

Wu Du seems a bit nervous. “Come on, down here.”

Duan Ling’s mood takes a turn for the brighter — it’s just been one thing after another lately, and now he feels like the haze has been swept aside, and the sky is wide and blue above him.

Wu Du walks to the pier by the creek’s edge, indicating that Duan Ling should board it first. Duan Ling knows Wu Du can steer a boat, and he’s rather good at it too, so he gladly gets on.

Wu Du unties the rope and leaps onto the boat. With one push of his long pole by the shore, the small boat vanishes into the boats congregating in the water market. Soon enough, it shoots out the other side like an arrow and keeps going, following the zigzagging waterways to wait in line for the Black Armours’ checkpoint at the narrow waterway entrance as they prepare to leave the city.

It’s the first time Duan Ling has ever gone on a trip by boat, and he can’t help being filled with excitement. Wu Du passes the checkpoint, pushing on the pole again; the boat leaves the waterway for the Yangtze main and the way opens up in front of them, where nothing but water meets the eye, a torrent rushing towards the east.

A thousand sails compete on the Yangtze; Wu Du hoists the sail with several quick pulls, wraps the rope around the mast several times, then tosses the rope over it casually and sits down next to Duan Ling at the prow, side by side.

“It’s so beautiful,” Duan Ling says. “Where are we going?”

“To the ends of the earth,” Wu Du says, “you want to go?”

Duan Ling suddenly feels so utterly exhausted, yet so happy, especially in the very instant he catches the bright blue sky above meeting the wide expanse of the water below; it makes him think that everything that is beautiful about the land is all right here.

“I want to go,” Duan Ling replies.

Neither of them say anything, sitting with their backs against the prow.

“When we get home again you’ll have to become the emperor. Perhaps it’ll be a long, long time before we can make it out again.”

Duan Ling understands what Wu Du means — now that they have the evidence, he has taken one step closer in his plans to return to court. Before the results of the exams are released, staying in Jiangzhou is not the best idea.

The small boat flies across the surface of the river and enters another narrow waterway before turning north. Both sides of the shore are towering mountains, more beautiful than anything he can imagine. Wu Du strips himself of his outer robe, rolls up his pants, and poles the boat along. When they happen to meet a fish merchant hawking their catch on a boat, they buy some food from them.

Meanwhile, Duan Ling has found a coal stove, and he starts a fire at the prow for cooking fish soup and rice.

He doesn’t ask where they’re going. Bit by bit he’s starting to think that if he can spend his whole life like this, that’s fine too; to live like duckweed drifting on the surface of a pond, roaming far, roaming wide. The marvellous world beyond and all the people in the world will simply turn into birds crisscrossing the skies, scattering beneath the mountain peaks. Everything would become so simple.

In the night, when rain falls, Duan Ling and Wu Du sleep in the cabin together, listening to the pitter-patter of rain landing on the river. Looking outside, all he sees is a million raindrops splashing onto the water.

When the wind picks up and blows away all the rain clouds, they lie down on the deck where they’re surrounded by a thousand miles of still water, the surface as reflective as a mirror, while a brilliant starry river shines before their eyes.

And thus two days go by. On the third day, as Duan Ling wakes up yawning, Wu Du is already pushing the boat to shore. They’ve reached a remote corner between the mountains with a limestone path that leads towards the end of the mountain range.

“What is this place?” Duan Ling asks.

Wu Du looks up into the distance. After a brief silence he says, “I’ll carry you.”

“Let’s walk together. Are we going to pray at a Buddhist temple?”

“You’ll see when you get there.” As he says this to Duan Ling, Wu Du seems a bit nervous.

They climb up the stone steps, covered in lichen from long years of disrepair. When they get to the cliff, there’s a plank walkway that snakes along the cliff face, round and round, leading deeper into the wilderness. When Duan Ling sees the first monastery gate, he finally realises why Wu Du has brought him here.

Before them is a giant, stone-carved white tiger, as life-like as the real thing, facing the great river and the world of the central plains below, surrounded by layer upon layer of clouds.

I do not monetise my hobby translations, but if you’d like to support my work generally or support my light novel habit, you can either buy me a coffee or commission me. This is also to note that if you see this message anywhere else than on tumblr, do come to my tumblr. It’s ad-free. ↩︎

#相見歡 #fei tian ye xiang #joyful reunion #xiang jian huan #fox translates things

[selfwriting-sugarquills]

70 Fred Weasley headcanons in celebration of 700 followers:

(plus an extra one, for the heck of it lmao) 

You guys, thank you so much for 700 followers! I appreciate every single one of you and writing for the twins has been such a blast so far, much to the thanks of all of you <3 

Find the 70 George Headcanons: Here

Fred has always been really good at sleight of hand stuff, as a kid, he could do card tricks with ease, steal baked goods from his mother’s kitchen and later on since his allowance wasn’t exactly anything to brag about, he’d steal sweets from honeydukes' on Hogsmeade trips, with the help of George, he’s not proud of it but in his defence, he was a stupid teenage boy at the time. 

Fred is incredibly competitive and will hold onto anything you challenge him to for way longer than you might think. He’s definitely the type to “race you” anytime you’re headed to herbology, care against magical creatures or Hogsmeade together.

As the man himself said in the deathly hallows, Fred doesn’t like the idea of a big grandiose wedding ceremony, he’d prefer something more low-key and simple, where the focus is more on having fun and celebrating instead of neat seating plans and meticulously chosen decorations. Some flowers and booze will do, he’ll provide the fireworks - In essence, he only needs his S/O and the rest he couldn’t care less about. 

George may be better at cooking, but Fred makes a damn good pancake and he will forever pride himself on that. 

Fred is the more jealous, overprotective twin. He’s aware of this and tries his best not to let it go to his head but he can’t help it. 

Fred snores, I’m pretty sure it’s canon that both twins snore, but Fred is louder and, as mentioned in my last headcanon post, a very heavy sleeper meaning it’s more difficult to get him to wake up so he can stop, your best shot is trying (and probably failing) to turn him over. 

Fred is also a very restless sleeper, he’ll toss and turn, and occasionally dream about quidditch. I’m saying you might want to be aware that he might confuse you for a bludger in his sleep, don’t worry though, he’ll always apologise profusely and make it up to you with a lot of kisses (and maybe a bit more than that, if you’re keen ;)) 

Fred has an extensive caffeine addiction, which is unfortunate cause he’s quite hyper already but he can’t function properly until he gets his coffee in the morning, and then again in between lessons/at lunch and then again late in the afternoon. Sometimes, if he needed to write an essay that was due, he’d drink coffee at like nine pm. He knows he won’t be able to sleep because of it, please, Y/n, he’s accepted his fate. 

I personally always imagined the twins as having ADHD, idk why it just fits their characters. Fred is for sure the more outwardly fidgety and intrusive, this gets less and less with age, as it does for a lot of ADHD people, his inability to focus remains the same though. 

Fred loves being outside, he’s the first of the Weasley siblings to suggest a game of quidditch or just going outside for walks, hide and seek in the woods near their house. He absolutely loves taking his dates on walks in parks or at the beach and when he has kids he plays with them in their yard, building snowmen etc. 

Fred probably suggests at some point that the whole family should go camping, and he’s actually really fun to camp with. He’ll tell the best scary stories by the campfire. 

In regards to children, Fred wants a lot of kids. Like at least three but would be willing to have more if his s/o wants to. He just really likes the dynamic of a large family since that’s what he’s used to. 

Fred’s favourite flavour of sweets is anything sour, the sourer the better, because of this he can handle it really well and he loves handing people some of his ridiculously sour candy and watching them squirm. 

He also really likes spicy food, he’s a bit of a daredevil so don’t challenge him to eat anything because he will eat a whole chilli and nearly die. 

 You know he’d be really casual about it too, lol, like sweating and crying but just leaning on the counter like “*pant* what? hot? no not at all *deeeeep breath* I can ha-aw-rdly taste it!” 

One thing about Fred is that he’s oddly squeamish, like seeing his brother’s ear blown off isn’t so bad (if you don’t take into account the emotional trauma that is), but a needle for a blood sample or a vaccine? oooh, he’s gonna need a big juice box and a cookie and his s/o’s hand to hold if he’s gonna make it through. He also has a thing about leeches. One time at Hogwarts they were mentioned in a lesson and he thought he was going to faint the entire time. 

Fred’s broken five bones over the years, four are from quidditch: his left arm and two ribs, and then the other arm from trying to do an elaborate stunt on the stairs in the burrow and falling down two flights. 

Fred loves to sing karaoke (because I cannot get that damn clip of James singing karaoke out of my head) though he particularly enjoys doing a very poor job on purpose. 

Fred is such a good liar that on several occasions he’s given presentations in school and gotten good marks for them despite having bullshat his way through the entire thing. 

Like seriously, he’s that guy in the group project who only looks at the slides like five minutes before the presentation and then just turns on a full charming newscaster voice on the professor to the point of them being genuinely convinced (albeit a little confused) that what Fred’s saying is true. 

This is also why Fred loves playing card games like poker: he’s really good at bluffing. 

Speaking of poker-face, he’s really quite good at teasing in public (if you’re into that sort of thing *wink*) because no matter the dirty deeds he might get up to under a table, his face remains as regular as always (safe for a little smirk to his lover every now and then) 

Fred always wanted to learn an instrument, he thought it’d make him cooler when he was a teenager, as an adult, he just really wants to recreate that clip of the trombone-playing dad with the sunglasses, or maybe serenade some cows with jazz or something. 

Fred was never a big fan of the uniform thing, so he always tried to make it his own, whether that be tying the tie differently, or having his sleeves rolled up; it’s not much but you gotta take what you can get when you’re literally dressed the same as everyone else. 

Fred might make fun of his dad’s interest in muggle things but secretly he loves it too. He has spent a lot of hours in the shed with Arthur, assuring everyone that it was just to have some quality time with his dad but he would still pay close attention when Arthur explained things to him. 

Fred had a whole business of selling candy from Honeydukes’ and joke products from Zonko’s to second and first years before he and George started dabbling with their own products, he could get you a butterbeer too but it’ll cost you an extra three galleons. 

Fred really likes glitter, George has a thing for lace, anything that glitters on his s/o makes Fred weak. If you want to get your way just put on some glittery eyeshadow or lipgloss and watch him spin. 

Since he loves things that glitter and gleam he loves buying his s/o jewellery, he loves seeing them wearing them as little tokens of their relationship. 

Did someone say slight possession kink? oops not me

Fred is incredible with numbers, this is pretty much canon and has been explored but I’m just amazed at this boy’s wit AND intellect. I have a slight headcanon that if he ever goes on a proper first date with someone where a bill is involved, he impresses his date by calculating the tip after just a glance.

Even if Fred has a longstanding reputation of not caring about school, when he has kids he does want to help them with any coursework over the summer and Christmas breaks, he’ll even study up on his old books just to be able to help out in any classes he didn’t take/didn’t pay attention in. 

Fred would, in general, be an amazing father. He’s goofy and playful most of the time, though he’s serious and incredibly caring whenever his kids are in a bad mood or have problems. He knows that he’s not the most outwardly emotional of the twins but he makes sure his kids know they can always talk to him about anything. 

Fred is incredibly messy. His room is usually a cry for help and he only cleans it when it gets to the point where it distracts him from focusing on work. 

No worries though, his S/O doesn’t have to do all the housework for him, he’ll do it. He just needs to be reminded that he needs to every once in a while. 

Fred has a really bad temper, he doesn’t know where he gets it from but he tends to get angry easier than George, though Fred is better at letting it out so it doesn’t continue to bother him. 

His bad temper does mean that he used to brawl more with siblings as a kid, and it wasn’t unusual to see him with scrapes and bruises as a kid, much to Molly’s dismay. Fred didn’t mind though, he thought it made him look tough. 

Fred is more likely to get caught sneaking around because of his brash nature, he tends to forget just how quiet you have to be to avoid Mrs Norris in the corridors. 

Fred is certainly not an early bird but his favourite time of day is, in fact, the morning when the sun’s coming up. He only knows this because of Wood’s ridiculously early quidditch practices but there’s something about the way the world looks when it’s bathed in soft golden light that just hits different to Fred. 

Fred is a great team player, as much as he seems like he’s more selfish than George, if it’s regarding a team activity (like quidditch or a battle of sorts) he’ll completely lose all focus on himself and only try to ensure other’s safety and victory. This is also why he plays as a beater, he’s not afraid of getting hit at all when he’s focused on getting the bludgers away from his teammates. 

So if his s/o ever needs it, he’ll be there to help with anything: Needs to take a day off from work to take care of his sick s/o? no problem. Needs to stay up with his small child because his s/o is exhausted and needs rest? On it. Something as small as carrying groceries or books, making a cup of tea when the other is busy or doing the dishes is all on the list of things that Fred will happily do for his s/o, and often without having to be asked, he’ll just do it. 

Fred’s boggart is seeing his family members and/or his s/o hurt beyond what he can save. Essentially his worst fear is being helpless when he needs it most. 

One of those times was when George lost his ear. The first night when George was lying practically unconscious on the couch with blood everywhere was the worst night of Fred’s life, he truly felt so anxious and helpless and angry that he vomited and ended up passing out next to the couch after staying up till sunrise watching his brother like a hawk. 

He didn’t just sleepwalk when he was younger, he also often experienced nightmares, it’s only George, Molly and Arthur who remembers anything about this. 

They got less and less the older he got and he assumed that he’d never be bothered by them again until after the second wizarding war and the battle of Hogwarts. 

I don’t like to headcanon that he dies cause he didn’t and that’s final lol. I do, however, headcanon that Fred still gets hurt, since everyone in the explosion beside him seemed to sustain minor injuries, I just think that to even out with George losing his ear, he hurts his leg and needs a lot of retraining/a walking stick. I think that’d be a more fair/unfair ending for Fred who’s always full of energy having to have to adjust to living slowly for a little while (not permanently, I couldn’t do that to my boy). 

The boy has anxiety sometimes, ok. (just let me project for a second)

He didn’t know how much tension he usually holds in his body until he drank alcohol for the first time and felt his entire body loosen up and was like “huh this is new.” 

He doesn’t use alcohol to deal with it though, he prefers just talking to George about whenever he feels is stressing him out and that helps. A massage from his s/o to loosen him up doesn’t hurt either. 

Fred prefers to talk to his dad about his problems more than he prefers to talk to Molly, generally. 

His favourite body parts on his s/o: Shoulders, hips, hands. 

He loves to kiss, just in general, but he also loves kissing his s/o’s nose, forehead, neck, shoulder, etc. as little gestures of affection. 

He def. has a bit of a size kink, he loves being taller than his s/o. 

If Fred could have any pet he wanted, he’d probably want a dog, the bigger the better. He doesn’t think he has the time for a pet though. 

It was his idea to start breeding pygmy puffs, it’s the closest he’ll get to having a pet. 

I don’t know why but I feel like when Fred and his s/o are expecting and his s/o goes into labour he just panics. loses it, drops the binkie as we say in Denmark: Freaks the fuck out, if you will. He’s definitely the pacing and wringing his hands together type, though he probably tries his best to keep himself composed and chill during the whole thing whilst simultaneously hyperventilating. 

Fred doesn’t cry often but he sure as hell wept with pride when he held all his kids for the first time. 

Despite the notion that the twins often slip in a joke version of a sweet treat or something similar amongst the snacks at parties, Fred is strongly against tampering with drinks. He knows the connotations it holds and he doesn’t want anyone to be afraid they’d put something in it. If he wants you to test out their truth serum or a love potion, he’ll just ask you flat out and if you don’t want to, he’s not going to continue asking. 

Most of the detentions Fred has gotten from Snape come from times he’s spoken back to him when Snape’s been giving another student a rough time. He doesn’t regret it one bit. 

 If you ask Fred what his proudest accomplishment is, he’ll probably say that it’s having had enough restraint to not punch Umbridge in the face every time he saw her. 

On the note of Umbridge. It wasn’t her detentions with him that got his blood boiling, it was when she punished little kids (a la Nigel) for doing practically nothing, he understands that to an extent and by comparison, setting off a bunch of fireworks inside a building would harbour a harsher punishment, but making twelve-year-olds bleed for running in the halls or playing music or just doing things that twelve-year-olds will inevitably do, is something Fred doesn’t understand. That year pretty much any kid younger than him, or anyone who was too afraid to stand up for themselves, became Fred and George’s little siblings, and they’re very protective older brothers. Umbridge can vouch for that. 

He struggles with a lot of insecurity in his relationships, he always puts on a front of being extra funny and outgoing when he’s in a new relationship because he’s secretly afraid that the way he is isn’t good enough and that eventually, his s/o will see through him and leave because they don’t like the softer, more serious side of him. 

Fred is the godfather of all of George’s kids but is also the godparent of Hugo, Lily and Lucy. 

Fred loves business meetings, he sees them as a good challenge to practice his smooth talk. 

Fred spent his first salary from the shop on the most expensive bottle of champagne he could find and a new suit. 

Fred tried to get into whiskey, feeling like it’d make him a cool business owner type of man, so, with his second salary, he went out and bought a fancy-schmancy bottle of whiskey and the whole getup with a bottle and some cool glasses, and then invited Lee over to try it with him and George. 

They did not like it. Fred thought it tasted like what he imagined gasoline tastes like so they mostly used it as decorations, not having the heart to mix it with something. 

Fred doesn’t necessarily like PDA, it depends on what you mean. He likes being secretive. Pulling his s/o into an empty classroom, nook, hallway, secret pathway etc where anyone could wander in at any time and snogging her senseless is one of his favourite things to do. 

Fred knows how good he looks in his quidditch uniform and will absolutely use it against his s/o. (they’re gonna get spicy from here on so read with caution if you're in public)

Fred prefers giving more than receiving oral. 

He has a lot of energy, did you not think that would rub off (no pun intended) on his sex drive? He can go pretty much any time and place, and typically last at least two rounds. 

Also, his favourite position is having you on top. Okay, I'm gonna stop now. 

#selfwriting-sugarquills 700 follower celebration #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley headcanons #fred weasley fanfiction #weasley twins #weasley twins headcanons #hp headcanon #harry potter headcanon

[the-final-sif]

BNHA Venom!AU (set in the US for ease of writing) where Izuku is a baby symbiote who accidentally ended up on earth. He ended up lucking into a host, an 8 year old Katsuki who’d been backpacking through the woods nearby where he landed.

Katsuki was always a bit of a weird kid. He didn’t get along well with any of the kids he knew, and his parents were rather distant, being high-end fashion designers meant they were always off across the world doing other things. As a result, when this weird alien attaches itself to him, he’s annoyed for sure, but he doesn’t panic, or call the police, or really do any of the normal things that a child should do in that situation.

He just kinda,,, puts up with Izuku. Sure, he’s pissed off and he tells Izuku to go away for awhile, but soon enough he learns to accept this weird alien that’s a part of his life.

Quickly, both he and Izuku discover that Izuku can help him do some pretty cool things, and Izuku needs lots of chocolate to stay healthy. Both things are just fine by Katsuki, and he ends up deciding that Izuku is actually alright in his books.

Some government agents snoop around, at least somewhat aware of an alien being in the area, and Katsuki quickly learns to hide Izuku from anyone else. He doesn’t want them to take his new friend and hurt him like they described. Katsuki manages to escape suspicion as not even his own parents know about his backpacking/hiking hobbies, and nobody really thinks a spoiled 8 year old kid of two fashion designers would be 10 miles out in the woods.

After that, life keeps going for Izuku and Katsuki. They learn to live together, how to adapt to all the various quirks of sharing a body, how to use the powers Izuku can give Katsuki, and how to keep Izuku well hidden.

It’s all going great, right up until Katsuki makes it into an extremely prestigious boarding school; UA. It’s his dream high school, but it’s so much harder to hide the fact he’s got an alien living in his body when he’s living with other teenagers, and the security at the school is much higher than what he’s used to. For fuck’s sake, the vice president’s kid goes to this school! There’s no way they aren’t getting caught.

Still, Izuku doesn’t want Katsuki to give up on his dream and encourages him, so Katsuki reluctantly goes to UA anyways, trying his best to keep Izuku hidden.

But there are... incidents. Not ones where anyone dies, but people seem intent on harassing Katsuki, from fellow classmates to muggers outside the school, and Izuku is very protective by nature. After a few of these ‘incidents’, a certain underground branch of the government starts getting suspicious again, launching an investigation into the school.

Meanwhile, Aizawa, Katsuki’s primary teacher, has started noticing lots of weird things about Katsuki. Like how he always has two columns in his notebooks, with one side full of carefully written notes and the other side filled with random excited musings in rushed handwriting. Or how sometimes he'll seem to become a different person for a moment, or how he seems to vanish at odd moments.

Weirdest of all is his homework/essays, where Aizawa would swear half the time it's a different person writing them (he only knows for a fact it's Katsuki doing both, since he's watched the kid write most of his essays at various stages in the library). The core ideals themselves seem to change between essays, and that’s what bothers him the most since he’s never seen that in a student before.

Being the good concerned teacher he is, Aizawa considered all the evidence before he called Katsuki into his office. Katsuki and Izuku are sure they've been caught.

Then Aizawa asks Katsuki if he's ever been tested to having multiple personalities.

And listen, Katsuki does not believe in faking mental disorders. But by this point, he's really worried that the government is gonna get Izuku, so when he sees the chance to excuse all his weird behaviors he latches on with everything he’s got.

So Katsuki explained, while trying to lie as little as possible, that he's never formally been tested (and he doesn't want to be), but there is another person living in his body named Izuku. Izuku is very shy though, and would prefer to not be mentioned/brought attention to. As such he asked Aizawa to not tell anyone else about him. Aizawa agreed easily, after all he doesn’t see any real risk from Izuku, and he’s happy that Katsuki was honest with him about the situation. He tells both of them that they can come talk to him any time if they need help, Katsuki agreed to that, and for a little while Izuku & Katsuki were safe.

I dunno exactly how the class finds out about Izuku, but I do know that Iida is one of the first ones during a tense situation. As a result, Katsuki and Izuku get to watch as straight laced goody two shoes Iida looks a government agent right in the eyes and lies his ass off to him to protect Izuku.

 For this AU, the ‘Kidnapping’ happens when the government managed to catch onto Katsuki. They’re sure they’ve finally found the alien, and they move in to capture Katsuki.

Only, Katsuki gets wind of this ahead of time, so in a quick moment of desperation, he forces a weakened Izuku to transfer off of him and onto Shouto, since Enji is like the vice president in this AU and that makes Shouto much, much harder for a government agency to fuck with. Shouto is somewhat aware of what Izuku is, and he agrees to take the other to safety.

Poor Izuku can only watch as Katsuki is captured, while Shouto forces him to stay hidden for all their safety.

It's okay though, because the four people who know about Izuku and what happened (Shouto, Kirishima, Iida, and Momo) decide to break into the government base to get Katsuki back, with Izuku's help obviously.

They get most of the way through their super secret infiltration mission, but something goes wrong and they’re almost caught. 

Until while they're hiding and the people search for them are a hair away from discovering them, an absolutely furious Aizawa just fucking waltzes in with the fucking president (All-Might for this AU) to demand his student back.

Now at this point, the agency has no actual proof of alien life. They have half connected incidents and eyewitness reports, but nothing definitive. When they took Katsuki into custody, they’d tested him immediately, sure that they were going to get their proof that way, but since Katsuki no longer has Izuku, the tests all came back negative. As such they have no real justification for having basically kidnapped him.

The agent guy or whoever has been chasing them tries to justify themselves by offering proof of 'Izuku' existence, specifically recordings of Katsuki talking to himself and referring to an ‘Izuku’ as well as written notes. Aizawa's responds that he was already aware of Izuku, that Katsuki had already discussed the other with him, and that he cannot believe they've detained a 16 year old on account of him having multiple personalities. All-Might backs Aizawa up, and shuts down the entire thing as there’s no evidence they’ve done anything but harass Katsuki.

That leaves the agents shit out of luck, so they have to let Katsuki go. The other kids sneak out the way they came in, before quietly joining Aizawa and Katsuki. Aizawa waits until everyone is outside and out of range of any cameras, and then he just turns on the entire group.

"Okay, so first of all, I'm extremely disappointed that you four decided to break into a government agency with armed guards before so much as texting me."

"I'm so sorry sir."

"We could've thought that through a little better, I'll admit."

"Katsuki was in trouble, but yeah, I guess we could've asked for help."

"I stand by what I did and I'd do it again."

Aizawa, actively chooses to ignore Shouto's comment for right now, but does still glare at him for it.

"Second of all, that man may be a fool, but I am not. Where's the alien?”

Everyone's quiet for a tense moment before Izuku makes his choice and pokes his head out from Shouto, introducing himself politely.

After getting a full explanation on what happened, Aizawa gives Katsuki a Look (tm) to which Katsuki defends himself.

“Listen, I did not lie, I just purposefully omitted that the person living in my body is also an actual alien from outer space.”

And Aizawa can’t really argue with that, so he just accepts that his class has an extra student in it from now on.

They let the rest of class 1-A in on the Izuku secret, since a lot of them had been coming close to figuring it out anyways, and so the entire class slowly adjusts to having an alien as one of them. It’s surprisingly easy to come to terms with, and as Izuku slowly starts coming out of his shell (ie hiding inside Katsuki whenever someone tries to talk to him), the entire class discovers he’s a total sweetheart & adore him.

#bakudeku #katsuki bakugou #midoriya izuku #shouto todoroki #aizawa shouta #symbiote #venom!au #bnha #mha #class 1-a #sif speaks #my headcanons #sif writes #mostly I just like the visual of Izuku getting embarassed and #then he just hides inside Katsuki #also Izuku is perfect for a symbiote #b/c he's also very clingy and wants to support others

[paper-n-ashes]

I... am probably going to get some kind of hate or backlash for this but... it’s kind of been sitting on my mind and I think it needs to be put out there.

This is going to be an essay. And I am not a confident or confrontational person so this is real scary for me.

I know how easy it is to take this - all of this blogging, writing, any creative outlet really - a little too seriously. For a lot of us, it’s a lifeline of positivity and a wonderful distraction to the shit show of daily life in 2020/2021. Certainly saved my ass last year. And I spend a lot of my waking hours thinking about it, because it’s my hobby and I adore it.

But (and I remind myself to do this CONSTANTLY) can we collectively take a breath and chill a little bit?

Let me explain.

I’m just seeing little hints poking through of toxic judgemental attitudes regarding how ‘legitimate’ someone’s fanfiction or writing is. That there’s somehow this divide between ‘real’ writing and ‘fast food’ fanfiction. I, for one, really dislike the term but I’m using it here to prove a point.

All of it, every piece put out into the public space, is valid. And I think it’s good to be reminded about that concept every so often.

We are all different people. With different experiences and preferences. We all seek out and consume different things, sometimes surprising even ourselves when we discover something new we didn’t think we’d enjoy.

Some people like more plot heavy and meaningful fanfiction. Those pieces or series’ that effect you and move you, play on your emotions in any and all ways. Some are short, some are 300k novels written over long periods of time. Some are canon, fix it fics or prequels, some are brilliantly imaginative AU’s involving our favourite worlds and characters we know and love.

Others enjoy (sometimes) quicker, sexually charged fanfiction. Fantasies played out in written form. Explorations of sexuality on a vast spectrum of more ‘vanilla’ (whatever that means to you) and more hardcore themes outside the regular realm of sex you might be used to. Characters we find attractive in places of canon or AU territory to thrill ourselves and others, or even just simply to scratch an itch.

Some enjoy both, on differing days. Dependant on moods or needs at the moment in time.

No matter what - All. Is. Valid.

None is better. None is worse.

When you read something you consider exactly or close to what you’re looking for from fanfiction, it is absolutely normal that you consider the piece, and the writer, of a higher standard. But this standard is subjective. Please remember this.

Don’t look down on others who enjoy something you don’t consider as having this standard. And certainly don’t have a lower view of the writer who put themselves out there to write it and post it.

We’re all judgmental fucks at times. I’ll easily admit I am, and have been. I’m in my late 20’s and still learning to be an emotionally intelligent human. I definitely have moments I’ve had to catch myself out. There are things I could rant on for days because of how much they irk me. And I believe it’s healthy to express your emotions about anything. But I do not put it into the public arena. I try my absolute fucking hardest not to let it colour any of my online interactions.

(This is the first time I’ve really put out a significant opinion in my own post and it’s fucking frightening. Seriously.)

Anyway,

If something is bothering me enough in terms of irks, that are completely subjective and my own, I speak to a trusted friend, to get the thoughts out and move on. And even then, some of those thoughts I’ve eventually pondered over and regretted the judgments I made.

But I will ALWAYS defend the right in this fanfiction realm for every writer to write about whatever the hell they want and not be looked down on or belittled for it.

If you are annoyed that certain pieces or writers get ‘popular’ or receive adoration you don’t believe they deserve - STOP YOURSELF RIGHT THERE. You can be annoyed. Go for it. Let yourself feel. But do not spread that negativity. Do not make yourself feel better by bringing others down in public view. It is not an appropriate coping mechanism.

Popularity is a whole other concept I do not have time to fully delve into. But it seriously happens by a decent combination of hard work that people don’t see, the right timing and LUCK. You cannot control it, and it will seriously help your mental health to not attempt to pursue as your goal. I speak from experience.

Whatever your reason for reading or writing fanfiction is, take a moment sometime to remind yourself we are at the end of the day just... fans. Fans of characters, actors, movies, TV shows, all of it. To be a fan is to be an enthusiast of anything that truly captures your interest. We just... like something or someone so much we read more about it, talk with others about it, even create more content about it.

Fandom is one of the coolest things I think humans have ever brought into fruition. People from all over coming together to love and discuss something that brings them joy or challenges their mind. And I’m sorry but I’m just getting a little tired of the competitiveness and superiority complex that works to make fandom a fucking shitty place to hang around in sometimes.

I am not saying everything has to be sunshine and roses, because there are lines that can be crossed and every good thing has it’s bad side. But... this is for happiness. At least, for me it is. Some days, writing out somewhat incoherent, horny thoughts and shorter stories brings me happiness. Sometimes writing out emotional turmoil and long, plot driven novel work brings me happiness. It’s just how my brain gives me that serotonin I crave, and I can’t excessively control that.

When people like one and not the other, I don’t care. I really don’t. I don’t need an explanation. It’s not personal. It’s just what brings THEIR brain serotonin, and I will never judge them for that. I’ve at least brought them a little bit of enjoyment in whatever way and that is just... fucking cool when you think about it.

Can’t it just be as simple as that? Fuck all the ‘popularity’ and legitimacy and notions of what is ‘better’?

Just do what brings you happiness, and give love/support/whatever to others who have done the same for you in what they’ve written.

That’s... it really. That’s all I needed to get out.

Okay. Anons. Yes feel free to counter me and make me feel poopy for my opinion because this is Tumblr and I’m not naive. Just know I probably won’t answer any hateful messages because I’m a wuss and can’t think of good witty replies.

#and now I step down from my soapbox and hide in a cupboard #bye

[zenosanalytic]

Structure in English

Ok, so I’m currently reading This Essay on English-language Haiku, arrived at after reading This Essay found in This Article linked to by This Video by Jacob Geller about translation in computer games(it’s Gr8; His videos are Gr8; plz watch it. And all these articles are Good and Importiant, if you care abt haiku), and ANYWAY(!)

there’s an example sentence used in the first essay I want to talk about. To Wit:

The English language owes much of its grammatical simplicity to the fact that the word order plays a major role in determining the relationships between words and phrases (subject, object, and so on). In such a language, words and phrases cannot be moved about freely without changing the meaning of a sentence. For example, within a sentence such as “Mother gave it to the kitten,” the words cannot be rearranged without altering the meaning.

THIS IN BOLD IS WRONG! Being totally ignorant of Japanese I can’t speak to the author’s wider point about Japanese being more flexible than English, and my claim isn’t intended as a slight or anything like that; I’m sure Keiko Imaoka was a much better poet than I’ll ever be. I, however, have one, Dubious, advantage over her on the particular subject of the strictness of English grammar in that I did not come to this Pit, I was born in it.

English is actually WAY MORE grammatically flexible than it is usually given credit for. This isn’t surprising, considering we teach a remarkably simplified and rigid version of English even to native-speakers, and punish them for playing with it outside those lines. So to the point:

Mother, to the kitten, gave it.

It, to the Kitten, Mother gave.

Mother It, to the kitten, gave.

The Kitten, mother gave it to.

To the Kitten mother gave it.

It, mother gave to the kitten.

Mother gave to the kitten It.

Gave, Mother, it to the kitten.

While these DO change the base grammatical relations in a technical sense, all of them convey the same information and meaning. Yes this isn’t very “everyday” -some are ambiguous, and some are even ungainly- but we’re talking about poetry and artistic prose here; “everyday” isn’t a necessity, and sometimes ambiguity and ungainliness are the point. Yes, I aimed for 8 intentionally, you’re just going to have to learn to live with my love of Vriska Serket; it isn’t going anywhere u_u

Again: this isn’t a slight, or a GOTCHA, or a complaint; I find this essay interesting and informative. English is hard enough when you teach it as rigid; I can’t imagine how frustrating it would be to non-natives to be taught in the context of how absolutely NOT rigid it actually is. Heck: until the 1800s English was mostly spelt phonetically, meaning there wasn’t even an agreed upon way to WRITE most english words! Until ~200 years ago we all read by ear; THAT! Is how much sense English Doesn’t!! Make!!!

The thing you’ve got to understand about “English Grammar” as it is taught in schools is that most of it is a centuries-old argument over how one OUGHT to speak and write English “Properly”; It’s prescriptivist and political, not a discussion of how English actually works and is actually comprehensible. THAT is why english-speakers have to be “taught” it; because it’s style, not nature. To return, as always, to the prime example of this: We ALL understand what Yoda is saying! What most ppl don’t realize is that the FACT we can understand him means English IS NOT a strict(that adjective is important!) subject-verb-object language; that’s the most convenient way to use it in everyday talk, it’s the most common structure you’re likely to encounter, but you can craft perfectly comprehensible phrases and sentences without using that word order, especially in a poetic context.

#zA Opinions #The English Language #English Grammar #Keiko Imaoka #Forms in English Haiku #Jacob Geller #Poetics #Poetry #Vriska Serket #Haiku

[the-insomniac-emporium]

i stumbled upon ur writing looking for lady d x non-binary reader fics and ur work has just been a godsend i’m obsessed. it’s inspired me to start writing my own even though i’ve never written for fandoms before. i’ve never written for other actual characters before either so i was wondering if u could spare any tips for writing for lady d and her daughters? 🙏🏻

:D

I can certainly try! I'll divide the tips into lil sections for each characters. Might be less tips, more character observations that help me figure out how to write them? Putting under read-more for length. Also! If you ever want someone to look over what you write before you post it, I offer my services! I can't guarantee how fast I can respond, but I've been editing/proof-reading/giving general feedback for my friends for years, with everything from fanfiction to college level essays.

Alcina:

Large and in charge, literally. Regardless of the situation, Lady D wants to stay in control, or at least look like she's in control. Okay, minor exception being anything involving Mother Miranda, since she's the one person Lady D has any real respect for. Otherwise, Alcina maintains a good grasp on any situation, looking for ways to put herself in control.

For example, she often uses her height as a means to establish dominance, even within RE8 canon. If you watch a video of the Four Lords meeting, Alcina stands up once she starts arguing with Heisenberg, towering over him in an attempt to intimidate. We also see the aforementioned exception in this scene, as Lady D sort of "shrinks" a little when Miranda responds.

As much as Lady D wants to be in control, she's not always actually capable of it. In the game, we see her struggle to contain her emotions, and often releases them in outbursts. Such as the infamous vanity throwing scene (god I love that so much). It can provide some nice contrast in scenes, having Lady D be so in control one moment, then as soon as she's behind closed doors she's letting it all out.

Uses the most old-fashioned language out of her whole family. It's kind of hard to describe how one goes about writing this way, but I recommend trying to find some journals that were written in the early 1900's and reading them. Or just some classic novels (not Moby Dick, tho, that one's a bit much, in my opinion). One thing I can say is occasionally swap contractions (can't, don't, I've, etc) for the full version of the word (cannot, do not, I have, etc). Something about that always makes dialogue feel older, though I can't really explain why. Whatever you do, just don't rely too much on using synonyms. Replacing common words with their cousins can make dialogue feel "fancier", but you often run the risk of unintended connotations (feelings, positive or negative, associated with a word) messing with how a text is interpreted.

Puts up a front/facade around most people, as part of her noble background and need for control, with words like "stoic" and "composed" coming to mind. Very rough with troublemakers, no mercy. But!!! So very incredibly soft with her family/loved ones. I've seen some people accuse her of "faking" her love for her daughters, but these people either played a different game than I did, or they can't read emotions as well as I can. Gentle touches when she's checking if her kids are okay, little glances and gentle nods for reassurance, pausing a chase just to help her daughters, etc.

Bela:

Wants to make her mother proud. Legally obligated to make her mother proud, because she's the eldest daughter. Not that I know how that feels, being the younger of two children. Regardless, Bela is the most well behaved of the daughters, even when her mother isn't around. However, she does resent this position to some degree, based on in game dialogue/dialogue files that are in the game but aren't used. Personally, I see her as someone who's willing to let certain things go in exchange for favors/blackmail ammo.

Cleans up after her sisters a fair bit, sometimes literally. Feels responsible for them, to the point where their mistakes are her mistakes, and she's forced to compensate on their behalf. Because of this she ends up complaining a lot, though almost only when her family isn't around.

Still very protective of her family, she simply does most of her protecting behind the scenes. Knows how to manipulate a situation, which she probably learned from her mother, and can be quite convincing when she wants to be. Less likely to use violence to solve a problem than anyone else in the family. Will she use violence if need be, or if someone fucks up enough? Yes, absolutely, but she'll focus more on efficiency than misery (unless someone really fucks up).

Generally speaking she's more eloquent than either of her sisters, though not by much unless she's trying to impress someone (usually her mother).

Cassandra:

Two words: Angry. Horny. To her, they might as well be one word. Horngry. Cassandra struggles with her emotions more than either of her sisters, being a pressure cooker ready to pop basically all the time. It's not hard to set her off, but it can take ages for her to cool back down. Let's her frustration (of any variety) build up until she can bludgeon someone to death with it. Harshest on the servants, and spends the most time toying with others in the dungeon.

Like Bela, Cassandra wants to make her mother proud, but it's less of an obligation and more of a "I'm the middle child and feel like I don't get enough attention" type deal. Is more than willing to stoop to "tattle telling" activities in order to get the attention she craves. Usually sticks to obediently following her mother's orders or hunting down enemies, though.

Bit of an artsy type, and the most likely to take trophies from her victims. Gross ones, usually. Okay, well, that's debatable, but I'm talking about general consensus rather than my specific tastes. Personally, I don't care if she's got some weird blood paintings. Hell, I've got extra blood, and also am clumsy and bleed a lot anyway, she can have mine!

Hides her non-anger emotions as best as she can. Hates talking about her feelings (even if it helps), to the point where it's usually impossible to tell how she's feeling deep down. Remember, anger is a secondary emotion! No one is ever just angry, there's always something else hiding underneath, such as: Sadness, disappointment, loneliness, jealousy, etc. Keep this in mind when you're writing her. Make sure you pinpoint the center of her anger, and hint at it, letting her actions show her true goal.

Swears the most, easily. Tends to speak in shorter sentences than her sisters, and prefers being blunt to being eloquent/flowery.

Daniela:

Love, love, love, love, love, ahhhh deep breath... love. Loves love, or at least what she processes as love. Would do anything for romance. Except she also craves "natural" romance, creating a sort of paradox that adds to her delusions, as she engages in the pursuit of unintentional romance (not to be confused with "The Pursuit of Unintentional Humor", a song that I very, very much enjoy). Wants to be loved for who she is at the same time that she attempts to mold herself into a more lovable shape. Struggles with intimacy, wanting to feel vulnerable without actually being so.

On some level she understands that draining people of their blood, and then drinking said blood, is not equatable to a healthy relationship. But seeing as this is the most common form of supposed "intimacy" that she experiences, she refuses to acknowledge the true nature of what she does. Instead she clings to the idea of "forever bonding" with her partners, pretending that each one is still with her, even when she no longer remembers their names.

Hates being rejected, no matter how gently. "Ugly" cries, but only if she's alone, often turning her pain into anger, just like Cassandra. However, her outbursts don't seem to last as long. In reality, her breakdowns simply occupy the inside of her existence, rather than the outside. Sure, she's giggling and causing chaos, like usual, but on the inside she's breaking a record for most depressing internal monologue.

Reads a ton, but not always "quality" books. Goes through a dozen books or more a week, often rereading her favorites several times, mainly within the romance genre (obvs). This affects her speech a fair amount, making her both cheesy and occasionally smooth as hell.

#j says things #character study #don't wanna tag as tips cuz this is so specific to resident #resident evil