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violetasteracademic · 6 months ago

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Does Elain Archeron want to be human again?

Theory debunk ahead.

I have personally *tried* (though I am absolutely not perfect) to take a hippocratic oath with my presence on the internet and wish to do no harm. The Libra moon to my Virgo sun is always trying to approach things peacefully. The wing 2 on my type 1 ennengram is always trying to take an open hearted approach to compassion and empathy for others while still defending my views on Elain (and Azriel).

However, the take that Elain's book is going to be centered around her acting in risky, irrational, or damaging ways because she has one goal and that is to be human again, is a theory I have ZERO respect for. So, with all due respect, which is none, please feel free to self insert disrespectfully at the end of each point as I systematically debunk this theory. This is probably the longest post I'll ever make. Strap in.

So, where TF did this come from?

On my tiktok, I addressed the fact that the rumor that there is going to be a betrayer in the Night Court ranks has zero grounds. We should collectively start to work to realize this is as accurate as Sarah having an announcement on May 1st, but alas it is a losing battle. However, I received a comment that said they also agreed that it was fake UNTIL they saw someone use text to support it. Apparently, one of the human queens insinuated there is a traitor in the Inner Circle. This is why, even though Sarah NEVER said this, people are now continuing to push this "Elain will be a traitor" agenda. Even accidentally or unintentionally out of her desire to be human. I made a whole video on this, but for context, here is the quote being used to fuel this:

Briallyn and Nesta are in a game of chicken with Briallyn trying to force Nesta to get the Trove by threatening she'll have Cassian kill her, and he'll never recover. When Nesta calls her on her bluff and says Briallyn won't kill her, Briallyn responds that there are other court members as delusional as Nesta (she is referring to her love for Cassian making her weak, delusional, and vulnerable) and she can just keep threatening members of the Night Court's loved ones until someone gets her what she wants. However, she put in *quite* a bit of time and effort on trapping Nesta first, didn't she?

My friends. Where does Briallyn say "there is a traitor among the Inner Circle's ranks?" Where does it say there is a mole? It doesn't. Yes, Briallyn has spies. As do all courts and kingdoms. But to suggest Briallyn said there is already a traitor in the Inner Circle specifically because of these quotes is unhinged and beyond willful distortion of the text to serve an invented narrative based on an unfounded rumor. I don't have time or energy to recap the whole vid, but moving on from this for now. Disrespectfully.

The next layer of the conversation is this: They think Briallyn is probably still foreshadowing Elain because Elain wants to be human so badly she'll unintentionally harm the Night Court and betray them, somehow, because of this quote and the conversation with Amren on Solstice. To which I said, there is way too much evidence in ACOSF that Elain is healthy, adjusted, and has friends and purpose in Velaris. The response to that was, well that's Nesta's perception and we can't trust her.

While the convo on tiktok was, I felt, respectful discourse and we agreed to disagree, the parasite in my brain went into full annihilation mode over this theory after thinking on it.

Because by this logic- if we aren't allowed to trust Nesta's or Cassian's perceptions that Elain is healthy and well and adjusted, or glowing with good health and finding purpose and friends, then we ALSO aren't allowed to trust Amren's assumption that Elain was curious about her choosing her Fae form because Elain wants to be human again. Elain never actually said that. Amren assumed it:

(yes I'm bringing so many receipts I exceeded the photo limit and had to start combining pages.)

At no point does Elain say anything about wanting to be human. In fact, this entire conversation is about Elain's curiosity over why Amren chose the form that she did, why she selected the gender, ect. It's honestly an interesting conversation, and when Amren makes assumptions about Elain having ulterior motives for asking the interesting question, *Elain's brow furrows in confusion.*

Elain straightens and becomes cold at Amren's assumption Elain still wants to be human. One could read this as Elain feeling embarrassed for being called out, but the pure fact is that it isn't the only explanation. In fact, Elain has spent all day cooking for everyone, spent the week shopping for Solstice presents and waxing poetic about the importance of honoring Solstice traditions (more on that later) and participating in the Fae customs, fussing over her appearance for the dinner she prepped for, ECT. It's equally as likely that she is hurt over being misunderstood by the new friends and family she has spent the day trying to making a perfect Solstice meal for and shop for everyone. Which is, if I'm not mistaken, Elain's whole damn theme. Her loved ones don't really see or understand her, while she observed and understands everything. Far more than they give her credit for.

Or maybe Elain has a fucking BEAST FORM. And is curious about what her powers can do with changing form.

The point is, it is all theory and assumption from another character. So, the dinner conversation at Solstice is now off the table using the very logic enforcing the Elain betrayal plotline by suggesting Nesta's perceptions of her are untrustworthy. So are Amren's. What's next? Disrespectfully.

There's only one other item people can use, from ACOFAS, which is Feyre's perception that Elain still wants Grayson. Which again, by this logic, is off the table now.

Feyre is the one who says Elain wants a human man. Elain didn't. So this can no longer be used as evidence.

All Elain says is Lucien is not entitled to her time and affections, and it's impossible for Lucien to care for her because he does not know her. Hmm. Someone thinking they know and care for Elain without actually knowing her. Theme, anyone? I thought I heard a theme bell chime.

Alright. So Nesta is wrong about Elain. Amren is wrong about Elain. Feyre is wrong about Elain.

So where are the grounds that Elain still wants to be human based on the text?

They don't exist.

But oh, that's not even the fun part! NOW is the fun part.

By eliminating others perceptions of Elain from the conversation as they are unreliable, what does that leave us?

Perhaps with Elain's own words and actions and nothing else?

You guys, I felt like a kid in a candy story with this one. Let's see what Elain told us about her thoughts regarding the human lands, starting with the most recent publication ACOSF:

Elain describes in great detail how she was bullied by other girls when she was younger. It's interesting, because Nesta previously said that Elain used to love balls and parties. And yet here, we find out that Elain wasn't treated well by the other girls in her own words speaking on her own experience. She goes on to *shudder in distaste* that in the human lands, it would have been perfectly suitable for Nesta to have been married off and "reserved" until she was old enough to reproduce. A thought that made Rhysand, a Fae, choke on his wine. And then of course, those same girls that tormented her delighted in her downfall.

When Elain speaks for herself instead of others speaking for her, it doesn't seem like she thinks very highly of the human lands, their customs, or their behavior, or the balls she attended does it? She certainly doesn't have any friends or anyone she misses. Everyone turned their backs on the sisters when they lost their money. And Elain witnessed this with Grayson as well, who turned his back on her the second her circumstances changed against her will again.

So uh, no. I don't think Elain is desperate to go back there.

And if course we have this ACOMAF banger:

So.... yeah. In Elain's own words, sharing her thoughts and beliefs, this is what she thinks about the rulers of the mortal lands. By the way, these same queens had her kidnapped and risked her life and took everything from her so they could test out whether mortals could survive being thrown in the Cauldron. But please, tell me more how Elain misses her human life so much that she'll screw over her friends and family to get it back. Disrespectfully.

Alternatively, in A Court and Frost and Starlight, here are the lovely thoughts Elain had about Fae culture:

Here's Elain working with her friends to bake Feyre's birthday cake, a representation of the three sisters:

Here's Elain surprising Nesta and Azriel with presents her very first Solstice, after chatting with local vendors and working with the Night Court's trusted healer:

Here is what Elain, Elain and no one else, has to say about being a member of the night court and ready to use her powers to serve it:

This is what happens when you cherry pick context. You create a new set of rules, which people like me are more than willing to follow. And if the rule is: Elain's thoughts and feelings are the only pieces of evidence allowed and not anyone else's thoughts or perceptions of her, it actually only proves the theory that Elain is going to betray the night court because she wants to be mortal again and return to the mortal lands even more wrong. Considering the theme once again, of how misunderstood and unseen Elain has been, the unbelievably ironic meta-ness of it all is overwhelming. Please, unplug yourself from the Matrix. Pay attention to Elain. It's in your best interest to at least attempt to see and understand her if you plan to read her book, or you are going to be very lost and confused.

Disrespectfully.

#pro elriel #elriel #pro archeron sisters #elain archeron defenders #elain archeron #elain x azriel

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randombush3 · 7 months ago

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a sense of coming home

ona batlle x reader

summary: part two of this! ona and you are (frustratingly) still just friends

words: 6.5k (i have NO idea why i waffle so much but lets pls allow it)

warnings: there's like five secs of smut at the end

notes: this has been the most self-indulgent fic i've written because this is how i met my gf and so i am glad to show you a nice happy ending

again, the quote is from 'this side of paradise' (said gf's fav book - i don't recommend however because the protagonist is a twat)

also i didn't proofread bc i am exhausted and i am hungover and i am very ready to go to sleep (#globetrotting is not for the weak) x

There is something difficult about forcing oneself back to their toxic roots. Ona discovers as such as she presses her body into a temple of meaningless sex, but she does so because she is a driven person. Ona is determined to get over you, once and for all, except she’d quite like to stay friends (hence why she agreed when asked). She also thinks it would expose her to fall out because her feelings shouldn’t have existed anyway, so she technically shouldn’t be heartbroken?

Anyway, Ona rampages through Manchester! They appreciate her accent – some even ask her to speak to them in Spanish when she is three fingers deep inside of them, to which she obliges with little fanfare – and it isn’t like the city lacks queer women. It is a super solid way to keep her busy, to tear her attention from hungrily checking your Instagram whenever possible.

It’s also what lands her with coronavirus. She’s embarrassed to admit just how many people she has come into contact with when the club doctors ask her questions over the phone.

You send her a lovely message after hearing she is yet another fallen soldier.

Ona is at home, isolating, and you are apparently trapped in Spain, unable to get into Italy. You haven’t quite made it to your parents’ house since your flight was supposed to depart from Madrid. “How come you’re not on the phone to one of your ‘connections’?” Ona asks suspiciously, wondering why this call has lasted longer than ten minutes. “Surely someone knows someone else and they can get you back home.”

“I’m hardly out of my depth in my own country,” you remind her with a twinging sigh, pained that she has suppressed all memories of your childhood. “It’s not like I don’t speak Spanish.”

“Didn’t you get rid of it in your head to make space for Italian and English? Oh, and French too, right? That’s where the fashion weeks are.”

You laugh at her pride for knowing something about your job, but it is not to ridicule her. “I am speaking to you, aren’t I?”

“In Catalan,” she points out. “Forget Spanish, but don’t forget Catalan.”

“I can’t. It’s the language everyone uses to tell me about how fucked you’ve been lately.” You take in a deep breath, uncomfortable with Ona’s silence but knowing your piece needs to be said. “Are you aware of what happened a few months ago? Why I missed the wedding?” One of your friends met her dream man and he whisked her off to Menorca for a small ceremony. Only the people she loved the most were invited, which included your childhood friend group. “We were in New York, a whole bunch of us. It was late but the show had been a big deal so we went out to celebrate, and… these ‘friends’, these people, they aren’t the same as you and me. Most of them are English, you know, and they come from very fancy schools where addiction is normal. Two of them ended up in the hospital that night – the bag hadn’t even made it round to me by the time they’d dropped. I know it seems far-fetched, but all I’m trying to say is that addiction has consequences. Bad consequences.”

“So you’re not on my side?” Ona isn’t taking this too seriously. A few people have joked about her questionable new hobby, but no one has made it seem so dire that they have needed to get you involved. You who, of course, Ona will listen to.

“I am always on your side.”

That is her main take-away from the conversation, Ona chooses, when it ends an hour later. She swoons, meaning the last twenty women have been a waste of time, but she also tortures herself into ignoring the potential problem. Being a sex addict would be embarrassing, so she won’t be.

Though your subtle shaming for her abundance of quick-fix flings is hypocritical, Ona would also hate for you to see her that way. You can avoid commitment all you like, but she is determined to be different to prove to you that she is a viable candidate, should you wish to stop stringing her along. It’s probably toxic; it probably means that you are both clinging onto a friendship that should either end or be labelled something else. It probably is the push and pull that has kept you interested, Ona thinks, because she knows that you like the chase.

However, as much as she’d like to be freed of whatever game she is caught up in, she can’t seem to let you go like that.

…

The next time Ona and you have a proper conversation about something other than how your love lives have been stunted or how people back home are not as successful as the two of you is when most of the restrictions have been lifted.

You waited out the pandemic in Vilassar de Mar, much to your annoyance, but now that you can travel again, the first person on your mind to visit is your childhood best friend. You’re not as close as you used to be, having drifted further during even more years apart, but it does not dull your love for her, nor hers for you.

Ona has changed her mind about Manchester and is forcing herself to like it. It works enough for a visit from you to be the last thing on her mind, and so she slows her response time down until the next arranged date to see each other in person is all set for the summer before the Euros in England.

You’re not quite home but you are in the country, and, with the pre-Euros camp in two days, Ona is spending the final few hours of calm left before the storm in the comforting presence of her mum and dad.

And… you, apparently.

“You weren’t supposed to be here yet,” is Ona’s greeting when she opens the front door.

Your smile is wide and genuine, and you are holding a gift bag in one hand. There is a nice bottle of wine in the other. “Not even an ‘hola’?” When no reply comes, you swallow the emotions that have arisen; the ones that are maybe, just a little bit to do with how soft Ona looks with her hair down. And the slope of her jaw. And the ghosts of defined biceps that bulge even when she isn’t flexing her arms. “I’m dropping by to see your parents. I thought you were in Barcelona with your footballer friends.”

“You visit my parents?” asks Ona curiously.

“Of course.”

With that, you side-step her and call out to her mother, announcing both your arrival and your desire to hand them their gifts. Dinner is just about to be served, and Ona is soon tasked with setting another place at the table for you as though the last ten years had never happened and your friendship hadn’t lost its innocence.

Maybe it would be better for Ona to not know what it feels like to kiss you, to touch you, to – dare she think it – love you. It would certainly make things less painful, and would have saved her from catching at least one illness and spending a good amount of money on Ubers to escape from random apartments. It would make it easier to listen to you talk about your life in Milan, where you seem to exist in a bubble of incredibly attractive people who are desperate to hold hands and form a raft.

“Modelling can be brutal,” you agree, nodding at Ona’s father as you follow on from his concerns about your career. He voices them regularly; whenever you see him. Ona realises you have spent a lot of time with her parents without her. “It gets quite competitive between the girls so I’ve been somewhat avoiding them. They’ve brought in someone new, scouted from Germany, I think, and I’m a little worried that I’ll have to switch agencies if they start prioritising her.” You glance at Ona, wanting to know if she is listening, hoping she is. You wish that she were as good at suppressing her feelings as you are. You wish she didn’t look at you like you hung the moon, because you know that you have to tell her you have hung it for someone else. “I’d move tomorrow, to be honest, but I’ve started seeing this guy and he’s convincing me to stay in Milan.”

“The minute he is your boyfriend, you bring him here,” commands Ona’s mother in a tone she hasn’t yet used on her actual daughter (said daughter has never mentioned anyone before). “Show us a picture of him! Is he a model like you?”

He is, and if Ona holds her fork tighter after she sees the photo you pull up, that is her business. You secretly take in her clenched jaw and furrowed eyebrows, and this might be the worst thing you have ever had to do. To see her so defeated, so hopeless, is upsetting, especially since you are harbouring the same feelings. However, you are able to admit when it is time to throw the towel in, and you can no longer live like this.

Ona is too perfect for you. She is driven, hard-working, and funny. She likes to nutmeg little children on the street, and she likes to buy them an ice-cream if they slip a goal past her, slotting the flat footballs into imaginary nets and celebrating as though they have just won the Champions League. She knows a lot, more than she thinks she does. She cares about people, but sometimes it manifests in anger, in frustration.

Any aspect of her is an aspect that you could love, and that is reason enough not to. Because how can you allow yourself to taint such perfection?

But, in this unspoken rejection, the compliment is obscured from the recipient’s view. All Ona sees when you gush about how he buys you flowers and takes you out to dinner, is a burning, bright question. It flashes red and yellow, both as a warning and cry for attention. How can she compete if you don’t even recognise her as a competitor?

…

“--And then they proceeded to finish a film they were halfway through as if it were the most normal thing ever,” Ona rants the minute she hits the concrete of Las Rozas, walking into the facility with Aitana and the other girls who travelled with her from Barcelona. Only the midfielder has been gracious enough to listen to the entire monologue, but the others joke that that is because Ona’s emotional state has led her to spiral in her native language. It is forbidden for them to openly speak Catalan in the Spanish camp, according to Jorge Vilda, who loves to hurl a ‘we can send you back to where you came from in an instant’ their way if he so much as hears a ‘bon dia’. Naturally, Aitana doesn’t give a fuck about the rule, although Ona chooses to believe that she is listening because she cares.

“Are you done?” Aitana asks thoughtfully, sucking on her bottom lip as she tries to absorb her friend’s crisis and formulate a valid, sensible response. The two have known each other for a while now, and Aitana remembers a time when Ona was relentlessly teased by their older teammates for being in love with her best friend. It is clear to her that those feelings never ceased, though she has heard through the grapevine (Leila Ouahabi) that you are now a model and you live somewhere in Italy. You’re part Italian, is what Leila also claims, having professed your ethnicity to a small huddle of fellow gossipers one day in the gym at the Barça training facility.

“No! Nothing is ever done with her. It’s viscous and it continues in a horrid cycle that has me flapping around in circles like some idiot. I am one of her boys.” Ona groans dramatically, the sound perhaps a little too loud. A few of the girls in front of them turn around to see why a cat seems to have been strangled, but they quickly lose interest when they see it is just Ona and her disastrous situation. “Do you know how fucking humiliating it is to be one of her guys? I am a professional footballer! I play for Manchester United, one of the most historic clubs in the world, and I am about to represent my country in a major tournament. I am successful, Aita, and yet I am still not enough for her.”

“Maybe she only likes men.”

“A man has never made her scream like I have,” she bites back. Aitana blushes, but Ona is too far gone in her rage to hear her crudeness nor preserve her friend’s sanity. “She’s been like this since she decided she was gay! Isn’t that hilarious? ‘Ona, I think I’m gay’, she said. I know lesbian breakups can be hard, but there is no way my cousin fucked her up to this extent.”

“I can’t help you with this, Oni,” Aitana laments, sorry to have to confess this to her friend. “I think you need to talk to her about it. A proper conversation to fix long-term issues, not like the ones you obviously had when agreeing to stop having sex and things like that. Only she knows what she’s thinking.” It is definitely not the advice Ona wants to hear, but she cannot deny the midfielder’s wisdom. “But for now, we focus on winning.”

…

You are more than a little confused.

To start from the beginning, Ona’s cousin fucked you up. She broke your heart, and that first impression of dating girls was incredibly traumatising. With girls, you don’t just kiss and sleep with them, you get close – really close – and then when you break up, it is like you have lost both a girlfriend and a best friend.

Men are a lot simpler. Men like you and they aren’t shy about it. They can sometimes be just as cruel, but you have never felt invested enough to care too much.

Some nights, you don’t fall asleep, tossing and turning between your sexual identity, aware that you don’t need to label it but desperate to… discover yourself. If you don’t understand that part of you, how will someone else? How can you be loved? How do you even know who you want to love you?

For as much as Milan is great, it definitely doesn’t help you with your crisis. Girls in Milan like to do what they want. It is not uncommon for the models to kiss each other in clubs, in front of appreciative male gazes or not, and then reveal their engagement to their future husband the very next day. It’s easy to be drawn into such a bubble, but the minute you step out of it, you are hit with the real world.

It’s what makes the pandemic so distressing for you personally, because you are forced to live like normal people for some time. Your eyes are held open and the question is shoved down your throat, and it really doesn’t help that Ona’s cousin never moved out of Vilassar de Mar.

She sees you one day, saying hello from a suitable distance as you pick up milk as per your mother’s request. “I heard you’re modelling?” she asks with no agenda, no seductive glint in her eye. You notice the ring on her finger, and she feels the heaviness of your staring. “Oh, I got married a year ago. Did Ona not tell you?”

You realise that you and Ona try to avoid talking about anything other than the love interests you have. “No, she didn’t. Congratulations, though. She’s a lucky woman.”

“You don’t have to pretend you’re happy for me,” laughs the woman opposite you, amused and somewhat apologetic. “Look, I’m really sorry for how I acted when we were younger. I was definitely not the most mature person out there, and I know I hurt you.”

“I cried for months.”

“I’m sorry,” she repeats. You suck in a deep breath, trying to hold the memories of your pain at bay. “The first breakup is usually the worst but at least it gets better, as you probably know.”

She looks at you expectantly, awaiting your confirmation. It never comes.

“I haven’t dated another girl since,” you tell her, sounding rather detached from yourself.

Her eyebrows furrow and she is clearly frowning behind her facemask. “What about Ona? I thought you were together when you lived in Madrid. It takes more than a friendship to do what you did.”

You were originally going to go to university in England. It was your dream, and Ona wasn’t entirely aware of the situation because you hadn’t wanted to tell her you were leaving. Then she was sent out on a professional contract to Madrid, and it wasn’t like you were the only one leaving.

Ona’s cousin, years ago, had suggested that you go to Madrid if you wanted to get away from Vilassar de Mar. “You’ll be close enough to come home when you’d like, but not so close that you’ll feel as though nothing has changed,” she had said.

No one had known about your offers in England aside from your parents. And Ona’s cousin, who’d only found out because you had called her, drunk on celebratory champagne, because you had to tell someone.

“You gave up a dream for her because you didn’t want her to be alone.”

“I moved to Milan. In the end, she was alone.”

“You sound like you regret it,” she replies, nodding once at you to bid you farewell and then heading over to a woman who is standing with a puppy in her arms. You watch as she pulls down her mask and kisses her wife, her eyes shining with love and happiness, and your blood runs green with jealousy.

You hate Ona’s cousin for devastating you once more.

Do you regret it?

It’s unclear.

You try to make sense of it when you don’t hesitate to fly back to Italy the minute you can, going home to lick your wounds at Ona’s non-committal response to meeting you when you are in London the next month. It hurts that she is no longer at your beck-and-call, but you are somewhat happy for her. You know that lines have been crossed and that she has suffered for it. You know that you are probably the one at fault here.

This time in Milan, you don’t fight it as much. You kiss other girls and let them go home to their boyfriends; you submit to the thing you had convinced yourself you would never become.

As you drive yourself deeper and deeper into your stereotype, the thought of Ona gets pushed away and newer, more culturally-acceptable fantasies come to mind.

It takes a photoshoot for him to ask you out on a date.

It takes returning home and gaining the approval of Ona’s parents (who are far more open than your own) for you to agree to be official.

You don’t ask Ona what she thinks. She’s busy, you reason, because she is representing Spain at the Euros. She won’t care who you are dating and she certainly doesn’t need it rubbed in her face.

There are many reasons why you go out with him.

One is that you do like him; he’s nice, he’s funny, he treats you well. (He’s not Ona.) Another is that rent is going up and him sharing the load is helpful. (He’s not Ona.) There is also that he is very popular within the agency, and your chemistry on camera is enough to keep your jobs rolling in and casting directors satisfied.

He’s not Ona. You know that.

That's the whole point.

If he were Ona, you’d be deeply in love with him. If he were Ona, you would never leave the house, never leave his embrace, never leave the little bubble created when it is just the two of you and no one else. If he were Ona, you would be excited about the conversations he gently guides you into; marriage, children, where you are going to live one day. You’d miss him more when he isn’t here. You’d care.

But you just… don’t.

Another year passes, more Ona-less than the last, and then she is suddenly coming back home to Barcelona, a medal around her neck and word of a relationship floating above her head.

You could ask her about it if you wanted to because she is still one of your closest friends, but the truth is, you really, desperately don’t want to hear it. While Ona has been falling in love with someone else, you have been proving your stupid feelings to yourself.

The act (your current relationship) lowers enough for you to go home for Christmas. You leave Milan as though fleeing from a hurricane, and you refuse to control the damage until you have entered the new year. Your parents aren’t entirely sure they want you moping about the house, confused how someone so successful can revert to a moody teenager the minute they are back in safe territory, and they heavily encourage you to accept an invite that was extended out to you a few months ago.

Your friends are going skiing in Andorra, and they’d like for you to come with them.

“Ona won’t be there,” one of them regretfully informs you. “She said she doesn’t want to make things weird. She has a girlfriend – or, I don’t know, a talking stage. She wants you to have fun.”

“But Ona and I are friends,” you try to explain, feeling exposed by the look of pity she gives you; the same look someone receives when they find out their ex has gotten married or something similar. As a defensive mechanism, you hastily pull out your phone and dial her number. Everyone watches you, now uninterested in their food as you dine and plan your holiday.

Ona picks up on the third ring, escaping her dinner with Lucy and rushing into the cool, nighttime air of Barcelona.

“Hi?” she says – asks – with raised eyebrows, wondering if you’re in danger.

“You’re coming skiing with us, aren’t you?”

Your friends hide their laughs behind their hands, surprised by how firm your tone is. You do not need it for Ona, because she does anything you say regardless, but they enjoy seeing this side of you. This is someone who has had to fend for herself in a foreign country.

Removing the phone from her ear for a moment, Ona sighs, disappointed in herself.

“Yeah, of course. I’ve missed you, you know.”

…

Skiing is not something Ona is really allowed to do. As a footballer, her legs are what pay her wage. Career-destroying planks of metal are not the best way to spend the dying embers of the year. She knows that. She does, she swears, but she is so eager to go that Jonatan cannot crush her dreams. He tells her, “if you get injured your contract will be reviewed, Ona Batlle,” and she promises him that it won’t happen. Nothing bad is going to happen.

It will be the first time she has spent more than a day with her childhood friends, and she is unbelievably excited.

Lucy finds it adorable and makes it known, helping her pack for her trip, versed in what to bring because her sister skis or something like that (Ona can’t really focus on her almost-girlfriend's monologue). Lucy likes Ona a lot, and it makes her stomach flutter when she thinks about Ona and her friends talking about them. She’s sure her feelings are reciprocated, and she cannot wait for Ona to return to her in the new year, all smiles and lingering hangovers, and ask her to be her girlfriend. Officially.

Your friends convene in the centre of Vilassar de Mar with two cars between you. There are ten people coming.

Someone, most-likely trying to keep the peace, instructs Ona into one vehicle and you into the other. The drive isn’t too long, but you suppose that the tension is uncomfortable for those who aren’t accustomed to maintaining a friendship despite the weight of it.

It’s five days, and you are determined to have fun.

Ona is naturally good at this, although she claims it is her first time. You, living in Milan, are just as advanced.

By the third day, the both of you agree that going off together to do some of the harder runs will be harmless. Spending the day together won’t feel like a date or a romantic holiday. Watching Ona glide over the compacted snow won’t be attractive, watching her cocky smirk as she scales the bumps along the side of the piste won’t do anything.

It won’t. (It does.)

And it just has to be the third day that someone pulls out two bottles of tequila and a drinking game that is going to ensure every single one of you is off your face by midnight.

In rooms opposite one another, you and Ona call your respective partners and tell them about how great a time you are having, actively avoiding telling them about who you spent the day with as though it counts as cheating. It doesn’t, technically. Nothing has happened. But, still, it feels intimate and secret; forbidden.

Then, there is a shout that rings through the house. Everyone comes to the table; the party has begun.

Ona finds out that she is absolutely terrible at drinking games, and loses in every way possible.

You find out that she is still just as touchy when she is drunk.

Your friends try not to comment on it, all having agreed upon yet another passive role in such an irritating situation. Their non-interference almost ceases by the time Ona climbs onto your lap, head turning as she whispers something into your drunk ears, making you laugh privately. In fact, someone has to hold someone else back before they shout at the two of you to make out or break up.

But it’s not really necessary, their prompting, because it hits a certain hour and… nothing else matters anymore.

Ona has been touching you the whole night and you have finally reached your limit.

Boyfriend be damned, you lead her to your bedroom.

She asks you many times if you still want this, and you cannot think of anything to say other than ‘yes’.

You’re not as drunk as she is, and you both know that, but everything feels so perfect and right.

When you wake up the next morning, your anger is more at yourself than the sleeping woman beside you, but she is an outward target for such a boiling emotion and it just makes things easier.

“Ona.” You shake her awake, not caring for her hangover. “Ona, I can’t believe we’ve done this.” She rubs her eyes, dazed and confused for a moment but coming to her senses soon enough. “I have a boyfriend, Ona, and… I don’t like you like that.”

It’s not true.

It’s really, really, really not true, but the fact that you have said it is enough for Ona to leave your room with the intention of never seeing you again.

She gets the train back to Barcelona, turning up at Lucy’s flat in floods of tears, and barrels straight into those strong arms with the intention of never mentioning what she has done.

…

You break up with your boyfriend a month later. Or rather, he breaks up with you, tired of being messed around, tired of your hesitation to fully commit.

The break-up is not the most upsetting thing you’ve been through, but your ego is a little bruised.

You try to make it look like you are having a great time in Milan, even though the agency has once again discarded your file and overlooked you for shoots you used to book in an instant. You try to seem like things aren’t falling apart, but it’s of no use when your father calls you and tells you that your mother is ill.

It isn’t cancer but it’s similar, and you know that you need to come home.

You pack your bags and leave without a second thought, because maybe Madrid was far enough. Maybe there is a reason Ona signed for her home club again and most of your friends still live relatively close to their parents.

Maybe you are not meant to be separated from those you love, because running away is futile if you are always going to end up together again.

In Barcelona, a modelling agency eagerly draws up a contract with you. Although you are from there, your career being based in Milan previously creates an international allure about you (or so they say), and you are assured that work is going to rush towards you as though someone has just knocked down a dam.

Your job is secured, your mother begins treatment, but there is something you cannot shake off.

It hurts to think of Ona, to think of how you left things, but it helps, too. Seeing her face in your mind is comforting. You hear her voice as you drift off to sleep, and you let it soothe you in your dreams.

“Ona has a girlfriend,” her mother tells you when you next visit them. Her frown is unexpected because all she has ever wanted is for her children to be happy and loved. “It’s not right, it doesn’t feel right.” You begin to shrug your shoulders and crawl into your shell, but she interrupts your thought process; “I think you should go see her.”

“Why?”

The woman rolls her eyes. “Just do what I say.”

You nod because she is so scarily sure about it, and you… It’s hard to believe, but you call Ona.

She picks up.

“I was sorry to hear about your mum.”

“Don’t worry. She’s fine.”

“Are you back at home?”

“Yeah, I am.” You pause. “Well, not quite. I’m living in Barcelona.”

Something fizzes in the air; pops, crackles.

“Need me to show you around the city?”

And it’s Ona, so how could you say no?

…

Your visit goes very well.

She takes you out to dinner and shows you around her neighbourhood. She introduces you when she runs into people she knows, and she is insistent about dragging you to her football match on the weekend.

Everything is seemingly forgiven and Ona is intent on integrating you back into her life.

She wants you to feel at home, though she knows you should already, and she wants to lessen the stress of hospital appointments and death and, if not death, then a difficult recovery.

You are sitting in her apartment – now devoid of all signs of Lucy – on her comfortable sofa, watching something together after a day of walking around and sealing up the cracks that formed in Andorra.

Sitting leads into cuddling and then into wandering hands that eagerly roam underneath layers of fabric.

Ona’s breath hitches as you brush the hard lines of her abs, your hands particularly drawn to them and just how strong she has become. “You must have only felt them on men,” she offers as an explanation. “How many have you slept with in comparison to–?”

And your hands stop.

“Sorry,” Ona mumbles, seemingly upset at her outburst. “I’m just curious. I can’t work you out.” She can’t quite look you in the eye, mainly due to the logistics of your position, but she isn’t sure she wants to see the truth attached to her statement.

You question if that’s a good thing, the fact she needs to ask; the fact that she has no choice but to communicate. It was going to happen sooner or later. “A few,” is what you settle on. Ona leaves it at that, carefully pulling the hair tie from your plait, unravelling it with one hand as the other rests against your stomach in an embrace. You smile. “You��re not going to ask who?”

Her fingers stop for a moment. “No.” She speaks so quietly, her voice almost a whisper in your ear. “I don’t care about them.” You relax into her more, feeling her against your back, feeling the softness of the blanket against your feet as it hangs at the edge of the sofa.

“Who do you care about, then?”

“You.”

Carefully, both her hands hold your hips and she sits you up, smiling as she does. You tell her she’s showing off, she replies that you are always showing off. To that, you brush those hands from your sides and lean down to kiss her, more decidedly for once; more in control. It’s a surprising feeling for both of you, the forcefulness. Urgency. Not unfamiliar, but unexpected for this time on this day.

The last time you kissed Ona, you had a boyfriend.

Your mouth goes to her neck as soon as she decides that she wants her hands back on your hips, pushing you down into her lap. It’s now a competition, you think. She’s quickly coming completely undone by your kissing and biting, but you are not ignoring the feeling as she makes you grind down, makes you need that friction. “Fuck,” you moan in her ear. She grips you tighter.

You start to pull off her shirt having had enough of the grey between you, asking if it’s okay, if she’s sure she isn’t too tired. Her reply is, “take it off, god,” and then the removal of your clothes that get thrown just shy of the wine glasses set out on her coffee table. Leggings aren’t the most practical for impromptu sex, but she’s quick and smooth and someone who has definitely done that before.

With your bare chest on display and almost nothing between Ona and you, she lifts you up for a moment with the intention of flipping the two of you, getting you on your back. You pause for a moment, trying to decide if she’s doing it because she wants to or because she thinks that’s the only way to do it, but her hands are moving now, up your sides, round the front of your chest and you relax. She laughs quietly, amused, because the tension dissipates, dissolving like sweet, sweet sugar in hot coffee as soon as your legs wrap around her back.

Ona asks before she does it, picking you up and laying you back down without needing to part her lips from your own. You watch her as she sits up, body in between your thighs. “You’re going to just stay there?” She shakes her head. “I can top,” you tease, a stark contrast from how it was the last time you did this. Ona doesn’t like being told she can’t do something. However indirectly.

“Yeah?” You nod, biting the smirk out of your lips. “I don’t care.”

You are in the process of rolling your eyes when her cocky mouth is put to good use. Your underwear was taken off at some point earlier — you hadn’t realised. Ona’s head moves between your legs, up and down, your hand that isn’t holding onto the sofa in her hair, the soft waves lacing between your fingers.

She’s good at it; thorough, practised. Her tongue circles your clit for a moment before dipping into your entrance. Something about the cockiness of her movements, her tongue, her hand rubbing between her own legs, makes everything more surreal, more blissful. She moans softly, lips kissing their way up your body, hands no longer focused on herself. Instead, they take the place of her mouth, two fingers inside you as quickly as it takes for her to ask if you are okay to carry on. Your reply (“yes”) is cut off quickly by her mouth on yours, tongue swiping at your bottom lip in another question of permission. You can taste yourself on her.

At her command, you sit up, letting her pull you back onto her lap as she sucks at your neck. “Don’t leave any marks,” you warn as her teeth pull a whimper from your supposed stoicness. “I don’t want the makeup artists asking questions.” It comes out too late, because you feel her teeth graze your collarbone quickly, not painful, no, but something that feels so, so good. “Ona.” She sighs in disappointment and adjusts where you are in her lap, so your legs are either side of her thigh.

You find yourself rocking slowly, letting her savour your breasts between her hands and her mouth. She whispers that she wants to see you come, that you don’t need to hold back – not with her, not ever – so you start grinding down, harder, faster. Her hands drop back to your hips, guiding your movements, forcing you to slow down when she feels everything building up. Each time, you let out a “fuck” and attempt to go against her grip to get that friction. “Not just yet,” she mutters, no longer touching you anywhere other than where her hands meet your hips and her thigh presses between your legs.

“Fuck off, Ona,” you breathe, frustrated. “When, then?”

She slows the pace even more. “Can you last a little longer?” You look at her face, brushing away the strands of hair that have fallen over her eyes, ghosting your fingers along her cheek, running your thumb along her lips. She smiles again, eyes creasing slightly.

As her hands drop to cup your face, you say, “you’re beautiful.”

Ona blushes.

You look down at her exposed cleavage, nipples pebbled against the sports bra that is unusually low-cut. It might border on intense staring as you begin to grind against her with the intention of actually getting off now. She laughs, saying her eyes are higher up than that, but going back to her trail of kisses along your jaw nevertheless.

For what seems like longer than a few seconds, the build up finally stops, the tower toppling over in a rush of pleasure. Ona’s hands move your hips as your head drops to rest on her shoulder. She talks you through it, telling you that you look so pretty, telling you that she’s so turned on.

And that’s when she whispers it.

It has taken years to get to this moment, many of them filled with unnecessary suffering.

It has taken years but it does not matter.

Ona tells you that she loves you and that is when you have finally come home.

#woso x reader #woso #randombush3 #barca femeni #woso imagines #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle #ona batlle smut

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axenyan · 2 months ago

Note

Hey!

I hope my ask won't come off as mean, I am coming here with genuine curiosity and love!!

I personally never saw the appeal in Ritsu and feel SUPER curious to see how other people (esp. ritsu enjoyers) see him! :0 What is it abt ritsu that makes him as appealing to you as he is! I have a hope that maybe reading someones enthusiasm and love for a character rambled on in text will help me find affection for the character too! :] (Happened with Leo.. tumblr made me a Leo enjoyer 😔)

- A huge kaito and zenji enjoyer

(Feel free to ignore this ask! I'm just curious <3 and again, sorry if this comes off as mean in any way ;;)

Hello!!

No no no, this didn't come off as mean! In fact, I'm super happy I received this ask🥺 I need more people to know how baby he is.

I'm not good at analysis, and English is not my first language, so this is just me rambling about why I love him. I also apologize for the grammatical mistakes I may have made >_< hopefully I can still get my points across!

Alright, let's go~!

I haven't posted the full pic of this art anywhere because it's an eternal WIP.

∘₊✧────────✧₊∘ How it all started ∘₊✧────────✧₊∘

A friend showed me Ritsu's introduction post because she thought Ritsu looked like the type I would fall for in terms of design, and she is absolutely right.

However, upon reading his quote, I was unsure if I would like his personality, so I took my friend's recommendation with a grain of salt.

∘₊✧──────────✧₊∘ Getting to know Ritsu ∘₊✧──────────✧₊∘

At the beginning of Sinostra chapter, I was still 50/50 about him because he is, ugh..... 😭 We never met him before, and yet he already had our info?! Not just ours, but everyone's?

Plus, bro keeps yapping and is also a bit forceful... That's annoying as heck. But then I remembered I have another favorite character with quite a similar personality: Sebek Zigvolt (Twisted Wonderland).

I tried to see if they had similar traits, and apparently, they did.

Apart from being in their first year of high school (baby!!!), they are resilient, pay careful attention to their appearance, talk a lot, and are keen on achieving their goals... but they're also a little obsessive about it, and the way they do their things could come off as annoying for other people.

And I was like... oh, hm. I'm starting to see a pattern here.

Then I continued reading the story and noticed several moments where Ritsu got flustered, for example, when Taiga called him out because of his handwriting.

It's one of the points where I realized he might be my next mistake... because I like characters who are difficult to handle and get flustered when being teased or when things don't go their way. 😭 Those characters make me say "I love you, you are so cute, but why are you like this??!" 😭 I feel like I can freely pinch their arm when they start being silly. 😭😭😭

After reading Sinostra chapter, I paid more attention to his campus dialogues and home lines. I had a discussion with my friend, and we concluded that he actually has good intentions, but the way he does his things is unusual. I think that's what makes him unique (albeit creepy at times 😭).

I'll take his affinity lv2 home line as an example:

“You’ve lost your notebook? Just a moment. …At 9:04 AM, it was inside the photocopier. Yes, I do have that information recorded.”

I mean, who the hell does that? I appreciate the help, but why does he know the location of our missing notebook just from his recording? Why?😭

∘₊✧──────────────────────────✧₊∘ Moments that make me go uefhuehgfu💞💞💞 ∘₊✧──────────────────────────✧₊∘

Being a little twerp aside, I like how he can be understanding(?) and open to new things.

He has a line like this. This is from the summer lines.

“You want to go and watch the fireworks? A rather childish request, but all right. So? Where would one go to view them?”

He thinks our request is childish but he agreed to go!!! Usually, a prideful character like him would just brush us off, but he didn't...

Another example is his ramen talk with Ren in episode 7. It seems he isn't used to eating food like instant ramen because he's been eating ramen at an actual ramen shop, but he is willing to try it. He even did his research before buying. 🥺

∘₊✧─────────────────✧₊∘ How I personally perceive him ∘₊✧─────────────────✧₊∘

Now that I've learned more about him, I think he is:

A good boy with a clear goal but a questionable way of executing his plan.

Adorable and round... I want to poke his cheeks.

Inspiring! I like how studious and organized he is. I even started writing more in my journal because of him.

Willing to try new things! I admire this about him!

Cute-- wait, I've mentioned that. Okay, he is silly. Please look at his action in episode 8 where he was mostly with Taiga. He did his best to keep a watch on his captain, literally doing everything he could, like using his stigma to be a doorstop 😭

In short, I find him endearing. I want to slap him at times but I still find him endearing. I don't know if it's a suitable word to describe it, but it's how I feel about him. `(*>﹏<*)′

Again, this is my very personal take on his character so I might be biased at some points, but I hope this could help you find a thing or two about Ritsu!

#axeanswers #axeposts #ritsu shinjo #tokyo debunker #help this whole post feels like a confession FJHKSDHFAJKHF

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gingerjolover · 11 months ago

Note

can we prioritize jb controversially young gf pleaseeeee i vote yes

to ease y'all into it, get ya warmed up, here's a little appetizer (courtesy of my friends @boywithpinkcarnation and @ever-siince-new-york aka the loves of my life)

julien w a controversially!young gf

okay i have an (unpopular) opinion that i don't think julien would date someone controversially young not because there's something wrong with it but because she will get so existential and I feel like she would feel bad if your brain wasn't fully developed lol

however!!!! this aside, lets continue

I don't think it would be a best friends little siblings scenario or like the kid of someone on her team or the bg team

young!gf is probably a writer or an artist of some kind and julien is either a fan or is at a charity event or something similar and she meets boygenius and they all instantly love her sm

and jules and young!gf really hit it off and so julien leaves with her number but doesn't find out shes young until like 3 days later

has an absolute crisis about it, especially because she doesn't want to hurt you or change you

thinking young!gf is 20 about to be 21, like just old enough that some people will be like um??? but also you're a whole-ass adult so you can do what ya want

but julien and young!gf have a very serious convo bc they are both feeling the vibe and julien just wants a healthy, mutually beneficial, safe, and loving relationship

but anyways

lets get right to it, phoebe and lucy and MUNA love you

like the love u sm but they also love teasing julien

julien could be getting up from a chair or like be laying on the floor and phoebe is yelling "life alert" to you, a glare pushing its way onto jules's face

phoebe is the biggest instigator, always snapping photos of you both candidly and adding them to her photo dumps

I had that phoebe buys young!gf a t-shirt that says I love milfs but @boywithpinkcarnation said a shirt with I <3 cougars and its iconic honestly

phoebe will 1000% caption a photo of you sitting on jb's lap and be like "sugar daddy vibes🤑" or one of jb sitting on your lap with the caption "jb is taking babysitting wayyy too seriously" (@boywithpinkcarnation)

they all call you baby and they mean it

katie is the second biggest instigator and right after that is lucy, then nomi, then jo

katie always teases about "respect your elders"

lucy will post a very wholesome photo of the two of you but caption it "spend time and cherish your elders, they aren't around forever❤️" (straight from social queen @boywithpinkcarnation)

eventually young!gf gets into it and starts making jokes like kelli tiktok vibes (@ever-siince-new-york)

she gets asked in a day in the life vid or a live a question about jules and shes like "I'm not sure really...i just with her for the money," and julien is in the back like that interview when lucy says they're breaking up like "baby! don't say that! it's not funny!" and she's groaning coming into frame, her hand on young!gf's head, "they're gonna start to believe you, ya know?" like all sassy how jb gets🤓☝🏼

PRIVATE BUT NOT SECRET VIBEZZZZ @ever-siince-new-york, carlena said and i quote, "like they're not lovesurging on tiktok but if the paps get jb giving hickies on film... oh well😁"

they are also STOKED for you to turn 21, since most of them are sober the idea of getting you drunk is so appealing

and jb is SO protective, like already jb has her hands on young!gf all. the. time. like in the dip of her back or on her hips or hand on the back of her neck, jb is always making some type of physical contact

BUT especially in the club or at a bar

they do get freaky on her 21st bday hehe

maybe the day after bc young!gf just lets joi keep giving her shots and julien is just standing there jaw dropped because who knew their sweet baby girl was a mf tank

but lit katie, molly, kelli, jo, nomi, lucy, and phoebe LOVE you sm, like yes you're young and everyone is pushing or already 30 but young!gf is so profound and mature but not in a way that's not acting her age, she just has a very old soul and enjoys rest and knows what she likes and what she wants

and julien loooooves this, like jules doesn't want to groom you and mold you into something you're not, she wants you to act your age and like she doesn't isolate you or make you act 28 because everyone is around that age. like she fully supports if you wanna go out and party or like do something kinda childish or if you wanted to stress about school or be homesick, julien lets you just vibe and doesn't pressure you to grow up faster, she truly just wants you to grow up without the age gap looming over you

back to the daddy!jb antics, without infantalizing you, jb handles ALL of the "adult stuff" like y'all def split bills if you live together but she manages all of the subscriptions and pays all of the utilities and makes sure your car has gas and is always maintained like takes it to get inspected and stuff

if young!gf is in school than that's your biggest priority in jb's eyes, like yes focus on school or your work and then when you graduate we'll start to divvy up the household stuff

jb just loves to care for you, like she always has an extra hair tie on her wrist and its your scrunchie like the one you love

before you live together, jb is stocking her house w your stuff to make you comfy

your fave snacks are in the kitchen, your fave drinks in the fridge

jb buys a full size of your fave perfume and body wash, she has you pick out pajamas for her dresser and puts a jewelry holder on her dresser just for you (@ever-siince-new-york 🥹)

if you're in school, jb def has a desk set up in her office or music room and its one she built and it has cute pens and stationary and a pretty keyboard and a comfy chair where you can cross your legs and then under it is built in storage for some of your books and crocheting/knitting/crafting stuff

when you move in, jb designs (w the help of lucy and Katie) your own office where you can write and paint and it has the best sunlight in the whole house

julien also gets really anxious leaving you at home, not because you're not capable but she grows so attached and is like "you'll be a different person when i come back:("

always sending flowers and dinner and gifts while on the road (@ever-siince-new-york)

not smut but smut adjacent

julien is sooooo nervous to have sex w young!gf

maybe she hasn't done it before or julien just feels a lot of pressure to take care of her

and she has to be like "do you not like me?" kinda insecurely because julien is treating her like shes glass

and jb is like "oh my god sweet girl, no no no, i- of course i- i love you!"

and she's like "you WHAT??"

#anon cutie #take a sip of da juice #small sip #julien baker x reader #julien baker x young!gf #fic coming soon!#ALSO MY KIDNEYS AND BLADDER ARE CLEAR #fuck u matty healy

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imtryingbuck · 1 year ago

Text

Come back

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: The team lose their friend (I’m bad at summaries sorry)

Word count: 3,919

Warnings: Angst. Sad times. Swearing. A grave gets dug up. Brock Rumlow.

Masterlist Series Masterlist

In Loving Memory Of Y/n L/n

Killed In Action Saving 5 Innocent Children

Dedicated Agent

Friend To Everyone

10/05/1990 - 10/05/2017

“Pass me a donut will ya”

Everyday since the plaque went up 5 years ago, Bucky always reads it. Everyday a small chuckle will leave his lips when reading the quote Tony made sure was engraved in the marble. ‘She always said it and she did tell me once that when she died to have it on the plaque they HAD to give her’ Tony repeated that conversation when they deciding what would be put on the plaque. It was true, did she always say it. He can hear her voice saying the words he reads every day.

Putting his two fingers to his lips he lightly kisses them, the gently places his fingers on her photo. Her ID photo took 8 tries to take because she wouldn’t sit still or she wouldn’t keep a straight face. In the end they settled on the final one, her with a huge smile on her face. She told Bucky once when he had asked-

‘why are you smiling in your photo?’

‘Because a smile a day keeps the dentist at bay’

‘That’s not an expression’

‘Well it should be’

He missed her more and more every day. Today however left a bitter taste in his mouth, today was the anniversary of her death.

Every year since they watched their friend die, the team makes sure they don’t have missions just so they can celebrated her death as well as her birthday.

Every year on that painful day they gather in the common room and watch all of her favourite films and play all the board games she went crazy over, they would order and/or cook her favourite food. Then they would each blow out a candle on the large donut Tony had specially made for her birthday.

He remembers that day when Tony surprised her with it a few years before her death. Her squeals made everyone laugh, she made everyone blow out one candle ‘it’s my birthday and I want everyone to get a wish’ and as the years passed they still did it.

They were halfway through the third film when director Fury walked in.

“I’m sorry to interrupt but you guys need to hear this”

“What is it?” Tony asks sitting up from where he was slouching.

“Earlier today there was an attack at SHIELD headquarters”

“How many are dead?” Steve asks.

“The real question you need to ask is how many are alive Rogers”

“Well?” Natasha speaks up from where she sits next to Wanda.

“None. 28 people are in critical condition” each member of the team murmur their different abbreviations of ‘oh god’.

“Who was it do you know?” Steve questions.

Walking around the sofa and sitting down on the lone chair Fury sighs “There’s was only one person. With a symbol on their back, take a wild guess which one”

“Hydra” They all speak at the same time.

“Yep. Now heres the reason why I’m here. The computers were tampered with, the IT department has managed to find out what was deleted”

“Go on” Tony says when Fury trails off.

“The file.. the only file to be downloaded and deleted was Y/n’s.”

The teams reaction was different from one another’s however Bucky, Bucky’s heart stopped, he’d gone cold and clammy at the same time, so many questions circled his mind. Why hers? Why now? Why couldn’t they just leave her alone? Why her of all agents?

It was as if Steve could read his mind because it was him that asked “Why hers? She’s been dead for 6 years now. Why would Hydra want her file?”

“We-I don’t know. Now here’s the part you guys are not going to like. Ross wants Y/n’s body to be dug up”

Before anyone get say anything “Absolutely fucking not! You touch her grave I’ll kill you myself!” Bucky shouts.

“Then I’ll bring you back to life just to kill you again” booms Thor.

“Listen to me, I don’t want to do this! Ro-“

“I don’t care what Ross wants. It’s bad enough her headstone needs to be replaced every two months because of arseholes keep wanting a piece of it, now you want to dig her up? It nearly killed all of us watching her coffin go into that hole now you want us to watch it come back up?” Bucky’s left hand is balled tight in a fist as he paces back and forth.

“You don’t have to watch and you need to watch your tone” Fury shot back.

“What are you going to do with her?” Wanda asks before Bucky can say anything.

“We’ll put her somewhere different- safer. It’s just a precaution and we have no idea what they want with her file. We don’t know why they picked her out of all active agents and Barnes I don’t like this anymore than you do, Y/n was” taking in a deep breath “I miss her too. I’m sorry but I’m going to give Ross the go ahead on this. You guys don’t have to to be there when it happens and when we find out what’s going on we’ll bury her again. I promise”

For a full 20 minutes after Fury left they were sitting in complete silence each trying to wrap their heads around the information they were just given. SHIELD headquarters had been attacked by Hydra - using just one person to assassinate so many agents. Out of all the Agents of SHIELD alive or dead they pick their friends file, their friend who they loved and adored the same friend who always had a smile on her face no matter what, the one person who could light up a room just by walking inside of it. A person who was so full of happiness and sunshine yet deadly and damn right terrifying when she needed to be.

Now said friend who they have grieved for, for the past 6 years was about to have her resting place disturbed. Like Bucky had said to Fury, it nearly killed each and everyone of the Avengers and the Guardians - who came to Earth just to attend her funeral - they knew that the probability of dying on the job was high, of course they did, they just never expected it to happen to her, they had to watch as their friend, confidant, colleague, the better half to all of them lay in a box surrounded with 4 camera crews broadcasting their every move just so the whole world could watch them in their most vulnerable moment. They watched as her coffin was gently placed into the ground, knowing that it was going to be the last time they would ever see her after the soil would cover her.

They broke. Plain and simple, they broke. Worst part of it was is that the world lapped it up, the images of Natasha more famously known as the Black Widow standing at the grave of her best friend in bright colour clothing crying, was every where - people joked about how the deadly assassin was crying, saying she wasn’t as strong as everyone made her out to be because she cried. Y/n was undoubtedly the only person Nat felt comfortable with, the one person who saw Natasha as Natasha, not the Black Widow but her friend Natty. She was actually the first person in a very long time to see Nat cry, it was when the goldfish - that Y/n had brought her after she found out that Nat had always wanted one - had died, she felt so unbelievably stupid for crying over it but all Y/n did was hold her, told her to stop being silly for calling herself stupid. They buried it near the lake, just the two of them. Y/n even had bagpipes playing on her phone which made the redhead chuckle.

Wanda was called a crybaby because guess what? She was crying, she was crying because she was burying her best friend! The first person other than Steve to treat her like a human being. The first person to show her that not all people were bad, the one person who wasn’t scared of her that time when Wanda had lost control of her powers making people run in fear, not Y/n though nope she was the one who managed to help Wanda ground herself.

Steve was also mocked for crying for the loss of his friend, ‘Captain America weeps at funeral’, ‘Captain America is weak’, ‘Steve Rogers needs to give up the shield’. Y/n was the one who taught him how to use technology, showed him how the modern world worked and operated. She was the first person on his side when he wanted to track Bucky down. He loved her, not romantically, but he loved her so much. She made him feel normal, she never treat him like he was nearing a 100 years old who was missing 70 years of his life, like he actually was.

Sam just like the rest was called weak for crying at his friends funeral. The two of them drove the whole team insane when they were together (which was pretty much all the time) Like Steve he loved Y/n, she was his sister, his angel as he always called her. She was his best friend, favourite person in the world. The photo of Sam falling to his knees at the side of his angels grave was blasted all over the internet.

The photos of Tony clinging on to his now wife Pepper made front pages as well. ‘Billionaire Tony Stark cries at funeral of dead agent’. ‘Billionaire Tony Stark has to be held up by woman at funeral’. He saw Y/n as his daughter - shit she called him dad and he introduced her to anyone as his daughter. She didn’t see him as a bank, nope she hated it when he would give her money, one time she had to ask him if she could borrow money from him doing it with tears in her eyes because she felt ashamed of herself for asking. A few weeks later she gave him the money back with interest, when he told her to stop being silly and for her to keep it they argued for nearly 3 hours. She managed to slip the money into his pocket without him even realising it. Tony loved her so deeply, when he and Pepper found out they was having a baby girl they already had her name picked out - Morgan, Y/n’s middle name.

‘God of Thunder Thor spotted crying at funeral’ Like everyone else of course he was crying he lost his friend, she made him laugh, she made confused - once she convinced him that she was invisible and that he was the only person who could see or hear her, for 3 weeks he was absolutely convinced he was the only person on planet Earth who could see her. It wasn’t until Sam got back from a mission that the whole jig was up. He was truly captivated by her but even more so especially after she was able to lift Mjölnir higher up than Steve was able to, waved his hammer around like it weighed nothing. He, like Bucky, blamed himself for her death, he thought no believed it was his fault she was no longer with them. So yes of course he cried.

Bruce wasn’t allowed to attend his friends funeral because when she died he couldn’t control the big green beefy fella - as Y/n called him - from coming out. Fury and Ross said it would be bad and take the attention away from Y/n if the Hulk was there. He agreed. Y/n loved Hulk like she loved Bruce, she wasn’t afraid of the Hulk - Christ she once tried to have an arm wrestle with him! She didn’t once make Bruce feel like he was a freak or a dangerous monster as small minded people called him. No she treat him with respect and kindness. It took 2 months for him to go from being Hulk to being Bruce again.

Clint turned his hearing aids off for months after her death, he remembered her asking him to teach her how to sign language just so he didn’t have to always wear them. That was an interesting experience to say the very least. Clint adored her, adored the spark she carried around, adored the warmth and tranquillity she oozed. Her strength, willpower and willingness that no one could dream of having been one of the many things he loved about her, and what he misses. The day after she died he went home, home to his wife and children where he collapsed in Laura’s arms and cried himself to sleep that night. He too was mocked for being weak.

Then there was the photos of Bucky who was struggling to stand strong. ‘The world’s deadliest assassin cries’ was the headline on magazine’s for weeks or his personal favourite one ‘Winter Soldier more like Weak Soldier’ Like Nat he too was mocked because he wasn’t wearing all black but bright colours - hell they all were, it was what she wanted and whatever Y/n wanted, she got. Her death hit him the hardest. He loved her. He still loves her after 6 years of her being gone. ‘True love is what them two idiots have’ Tony would say. He blamed himself for what had happened to her, he had just turned his back for a second to hand a child to an agent when the whole building came down trapping her inside, he should of done more he always tells himself. Other than Steve she was his best friend, the one person who wasn’t afraid off his arm, the only person who could calm him down after a nightmare. She was the first person he opened up to and not once did she judge him or called him names, after he finished telling her all the things he remembered she got up and walked over to him and pulled him in for a hug, crying her heart out and apologising over and over again. The worst part for Bucky other than losing her was that he never got to tell her how madly in love he was with her.

“It doesn’t make sense” Steve was the one who broke the silence.

“Which part?” Tony asks.

“Everything. The attack, Y/n’s file, Ross wanting her to be dug up. Nothing makes sense”

“We need to figure this out. We can’t let them do this to her” Sam shakes his head, whilst trying to keep the tears he was fighting back at bay.

“Fury let me into his thoughts. They think they’re trying to find out how to recreate her genes.” Wanda finally speaks.

Once again the room went quiet. Y/n back story was still a bit of a mystery to the team. It was just something she never spoke about, they knew of the scars that covered the majority of her body and they did know of her mutant gene and that was it.

Y/n was exactly like Logan, better known as Wolverine. Though Logan’s a Beta level mutant whereas Y/n was an Alpha level, the only one of her kind. She had complete control over her abilities, her fighting skills were untouchable and unmatched. She was a part of the Weapon X program, when she was a young child she was taken from the orphanage she was placed at as a baby - and unknown to the team she was subjected to the worst abuse imaginable at the hands of The Facility. Unlike Logan though her Adamantium claws weren’t poisonous.

And what made Y/n even stronger was just like Wanda she had telekinesis abilities, though Y/n was a bit stronger than the other woman.

They didn’t know that Logan had found her when she was 16, with a chain wrapped around her neck that was connected to the wall, in a dark room that only had a toilet - nothing else. Logan had managed to get her out, which wasn’t easy considering she didn’t trust him and he wasn’t her handler. Logan kept her with him for roughly three years, moving around place to place, keeping each other safe. He was growing weak and unable to keep his promise to her, promise being he’d keep her safe. With a heavy heart he took her to Fury, begging the other man to take care of her. And since then she was a highly respected SHIELD agent and member of the Avengers.

They knew if Hydra were trying to recreate her genes they would have an army that would be unstoppable.

“But why dig her up? Hydra has her file so therefore they… they…”

“Tony? You okay?”

“Other than finding out my daughters grave will be disturbed, I’m fine”. He gets up and walks away.

One by one they follow his lead, leaving Bucky and Thor to blow out the candles - making the same wish as the previous years.

For her to come back.

The very next day they all gather at the cemetery and watched with a heavy heart as her grave gets dug up.

Three days later Fury gets a phone call “Fury you need to come to the Pentagon as soon as you can and don’t tell anyone”

“On my way”.

As soon as he got there he meets with Ross. “What’s all this about?”

“It’s not her”

“What are you talking about Ross?”

“Y/n… it’s not her in the coffin.”

“Hold on, you fucking lied to me you told me you wasn’t going to touch her!”

“Fury we brought a dead agent to the Pentagon for a reason”.

“A dead agent? Remember that dead agent saved you life how many times? Oh yeah six. Six fucking times she saved your arse Ross.” The anger coming off Fury made everyone in the room shift foot to foot.

“Sorry, we brought Y/n to the Pentagon for a reason”

“Why?”

“Simple. We wanted to make sure that they hadn’t gotten to her so we checked, and it’s not her. If-if you just look to your left Nick you’ll see the body that was in her coffin”

Fury stood there for a few minutes just staring at Ross before he looked over to where he had pointed.

There laid the decaying body of a woman, that was most definitely not Y/n.

“H-how is this possible?”

“We don’t know. It’s a possibility that Hydra got her body first, but it doesn’t explain why they would put this person in her place”

“Or she could be alive?” Fury asked hopefully.

“She’s not” Ross puts a hand to Fury’s shoulder “I checked the footage of the attack and it’s not her, I asked some of the agents that could talk if the person had claws and they all said no” Ross hated himself for calling her ‘a dead agent’ even if she was just that, but like Fury had said, she saved his life more times than one. When Y/n was introduced to him, he had to admit he was intimidated by her. But as time went on they gained each others trust and respect.

“Fury you can’t tell the Winter Soldier about this”

“James. His name is James and you honestly expect me not to say anything to the team?”

“We have no idea how any of them will react, especially him and Thor”

He hated to admit that Ross did have a point, there was no idea how the two men who blamed themselves for her death, would react.

Sighing “What are we going to do?”

“I’m not sure. Let’s just hope and pray that they don’t have her I guess”.

The screams of pure terror coming from civilians were muffled by the gunfire and explosions, the bodies of civilians and SHIELD agents scattered amongst the wreckage. Hydra made another attack on the Capital.

The Avengers were able to stop Hydra agents from pushing further forwards. But when the ground started to shake they all looked at each other.

Both Steve and Bucky gulped at the sight of the Uber Tank, memories of seeing it during the war flashed through their minds.

“What the fuck is that!” Tony questioned.

“T-that’s Hydras Tank - I thought I destroyed it” Steve answers.

The rain pour of gunfire came to a stop on both sides, agents of Hydra smirked, agents of SHIELD looked terrified. The rumbling stopped, the only sound that could be heard was rubble still falling in the background.

When the hatch came open they waited with bated breath. Rumlow.

Brock Rumlow climbed up and out of the tank, standing on top with a megaphone.

“Do you like her? She’s a real beauty isn’t she? Took us longer than I care to admit to rebuild her but here she is!” He laughs “Hey so the attack the other week on your headquarters, sorry about that. We just needed something, take a wild guess what” Not receiving an answer he sighs and tilts his head to the side “It was to get your friends file! Jesus do I have to do all the work around here?”

“I’ve got a clean shot” Voiced Clint from where ever he was at.

“Not yet” Steve says.

“Truth to be told guys we didn’t need her file, we just wanted to give you a heads up to what was going to come” Waving his arms towards to chaos “I knew if we took her file it would get your attention, and it did didn’t it. I also know that her coffin was taken to the Pentagon, and I also know that Fury’s been keeping a secret from the almighty Avengers”

“What are you talking about?” Steve shouted.

Rumlow chuckles “It’s about time you spoke Captain America, the secret is… how about I just show you huh?” Stomping three times on the Uber Tank “Little bird why don’t you come out so you can play”

The hatch comes open again, a figure all in black - very similar outfit that the Winter Soldier use to wear - emerged and moving their way to stand next to Rumlow.

“Our little bird here is even stronger than she once was. We gave her the serum and it just enhanced her strength.” Moving closer to the person he whispers something none of them could hear. “Look I’ve gotta go, don’t worry I’ll be taking this beauty with me so no need to cry. I’ll let little bird have all the fun, she deserves it” Placing a kiss to the side of the woman’s head, he pushes her off. “Good luck everyone, you’re gonna need it” Climbing back into the tank, the tracks started to rumble once again before leaving the same way it came.

Nobody moved even long after Rumlow and the Uber Tank had gone. That was until some Hydra agents started to drop to the floor with foam spilling from their mouths.

Little bird as Rumlow called her took one step in front of the other until she was roughly 100 feet on the Avengers.

Her hand slowly came up to her face, removing the bottom half of her mask then the glasses.

They couldn’t believe it.

They didn’t want to believe it.

“Y/n?”

Tags: @bethexo07 @doublebassallie

~ banner credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~

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i-sneezed · 11 months ago

Text

Some Elriel evidence that doesn't get much attention.

First of all, if you're just having fun with your ships, you do you, man. I'm not here to rain on your parade.

However, there are so many people out there that are CONVINCED of Elucien/Gwynriel that I can't take it anymore and I have to throw in my two cents, so here we go. I'm gonna break it down by ship.

Elucien

There's no way, bro. And we can set aside the fact that if that ship were to sail it would be the same sort of love story as Nessian (reluctant mates).

The most obvious thing to discuss here is that Elain is clearly not interested. And neither, to some extent, is Lucien.

Let's look back to ACOWAR when Lucien talks to Elain in the library. He thinks about Jesminda. "[She] had loved him without question, without hesitation. She had chosen him. Elain had been...thrown at him."

Like Azriel, Lucien wants to be chosen. He's had it before and he sees the value in it. Unfortunately, he's a fae male and he has a hard time ignoring his instincts where his mate is concerned, so he keeps trying. Even though he can hardly stand to be in the same room as her. Whereas Vassa...

Elain, on the other hand, has absolutely no interest in a mating bond. After Graysen breaks her heart in ACOWAR, Feyre says, "Some sliver of hope had been shattered today. That Graysen would still love her, marry her--and that love would trump even a mating bond."

Obviously, that quote is in direct reference to her ex-fiance, but we see Elain reconfirm that desire in ACOFAS when she tells Feyre explicitly that she doesn't want a mate. I don't think it's personal to Lucien, I think she rejects the idea of being told who she should be with. Of being robbed of choice.

We learn from Nesta in ACOSF that their mother always said Elain would marry for "love and beauty". I think for Elain, a mating bond is not the same as love. Also, small aside, but who is constantly regarded as the most beautiful of the bat boys?

We haven't seen them have a conversation about their mating bond yet because why would we? That will happen in Elain's book (which is most likely next).

Gwynriel

I feel like this one is more dangerous to get into so I'll tread lightly.

Firstly, the majority of evidence for this ship comes from a bonus chapter that the majority of the fandom doesn't even know exists. Anyone who listens to the audiobooks doesn't know about it unless they poke around ACOTAR stuff online.

It doesn't make sense for an author to essentially change the entire trajectory of a story in a bonus chapter that most people don't know about.

Also, I think a big problem with the BC is that people read it after they finish the book, so it can feel like the most recent thing to happen in the story, but it's not. It happens about 2/3 of the way through ACOSF and a lot happens after that.

But before we get into that, let's talk about the shadows. People lose their damn minds that Az's shadows dance for Gwyn and vanish for Elain. The truth of it is that we don't know what dancing shadows actually mean, though. It's the first time we've seen it happen. However, we have seen his shadows vanish for someone other than Elain.

In ACOMAF, when Feyre meets the IC for the first time, they vanish for Mor. "Mor patted Azriel on the shoulder as she dodged his outstretched wing...The lurking shadows vanished entirely as Azriel's head dipped a bit."

So we know that the shadows vanish in the presence of someone Azriel has romantic feelings for, but we don't know what makes them dance.

Then, at the end of the BC (after he said he didn't even consider Gwyn to be a friend) he feels a spark of joy in his chest. Good. My shadow man deserves happiness.

But we know that it doesn't last because at the very next training right after Solstice, Neta comments that Az is "More aloof than usual" which clearly shows us that he is far more hung up on what happened with Elain than whatever may or may not be going on with Gwyn.

For her part, Gwyn becomes more comfortable around Azriel after Solstice. We love to see it because the poor girl has been so traumatized and, like Az, she deserves to be happy.

However, at no point does Nesta or Cassian suspect there to be any romantic connection between them. Not like how Nesta did with Az and Elain. ("His secret to tell. Never hers.").

And then at the climax of the book, Gwyn is thrown into the Blood Rite. At no point is Az even half as frantic as Cassian (which a mate would be) and he is way more preoccupied with whatever's going on with Eris.

At the end, when Nesta is getting ready for her mating ceremony, Gwyn tells her that she's not ready to leave the House of Wind again. Poor thing has been re-traumatized because of what happens in the BR and can't stand to leave the House. And y'all think she's ready for any kind of romantic relationship??

Nah, let Gwyn heal without the influence of a male.

Elriel

So I'm got gonna talk about the rescue, him figuring out she's a seer, giving her Truth Teller, or any of the usual stuff because that's been said and said and I have nothing to add to it.

Instead, I want to talk about what I believe their trope will be and share my evidence with the class. Cool? Cool.

Okay, so, I think we all know that if Elriel is endgame then their trope will be forbidden lovers.

Personally, I am of the opinion that the purpose of Az's bonus chapter was to confirm that for us, not suddenly change the entire trajectory of the story.

But forbidden lovers makes so much sense for Elriel because of what we've seen in the books, not just the BC.

Looking at ACOMAF again, Mor tells Feyre, "'Azriel's got no shortage of lovers, though, don't worry. He's just better at keeping them secret than we are.'"

Then, in ACOSF, when Feyre's talking about how Elain figured out she was pregnant first, she says to Azriel, "'I think she's got you beat for secret-keeping'".

So it's already in-canon that Azriel can keep his lovers secret very well and that Elain is just good at secrets in general.

BUT WAIT THERE'S MORE

A moment I never see anyone talk about is something that Cassian observes at a family dinner. "Elain had already departed with Feyre, claiming she had to be up with the dawn to tend to an elderly faerie's garden. Cassian didn't know why he suspected this wasn't true. There had been some tightness in Elain's face when she said it. Normally when she made such excuses, Lucien was around, but the male remained in the human lands with Jurian and Vassa."

Elain already has secrets the IC aren't privy to. So what's one more?

#elriel #elain x azriel #elain archeron #azriel #lucien vanserra #gwyneth berdara #acotar #fandom ships

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iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 1 year ago

Note

Heyyy brainrot hope you are resting well from those back to back 12 hours and i have thought about a new scene what about MC bursting into a song out of nowhere and surprising M6 you know like how we randomly think about a song and just starts singing about it.

Bonus points if M6 is the one thinking about the song and MC starts to sing it aloud if you know what i mean

Enjoy your next 24 hours. And have a great week

The Arcana HCs: M6 reacting to MC singing

~ @godslayer143 I know exactly the moment you're talking about - I do this to my family members all the time XD The honorable lobster friend also requested a singing MC, so here this is! - brainrot ~

- opening quotes are canon, from Heart Hunter responses to MC's serenade option -

Julian

"Next time, let's make it a duet! What do you say?"

As previously shown, he's immediately asking to sing along with you. Don't worry, he's very good at duets!

If he knows the song, he can jump right in. If he doesn't, you can teach it to him

Sometimes when Malak hears duets he decides he wants to add some harmony too, which frustrates Julian's attempts at a romantic moment to no end

Doubles his efforts to sing with you in public. You're a few drinks in at the Rowdy Raven? He's starting a drinking song and trying to drag you up on the table to lead everyone in the chorus with him

Sometimes, he just wants to hear your voice without his own ringing in his ears. If you're in the mood for it, he'll tune his vielle to accompany you instead

Having traveled around the world, he's picked up quite a few different songs and he will try to teach them to you. It's okay if you can't get the Nevivon pronunciation right away, he'll coach you

If you start randomly singing the song that's been stuck in his head all day he'll forget his manners and jump right into singing along

Asra

"I've always loved the sound of your voice, MC."

It doesn't matter what they're doing, the sound of you singing is enough to make them drop whatever they're up to and tune out the rest of the world

If you're singing something really energetic or upbeat, he'll be a little faster to shake himself out of it. He'll keep bopping his head along though

If you're singing something slower or more romantic, they'll pull you into a slow dance and encourage you to keep singing

There's one thing he loves to do though, and it's tease. Don't sing anything too heated or he'll take it as his cue to fluster you

Cue increasingly suggestive eye contact as the lyrics get more intense until you cave and use your mouth for kissing instead

They'll never ask or pressure you to sing, but they won't hesitate to mention that you have a beautiful voice if it comes up

If you start singing a song he was thinking of he'll just be quietly surprised (doesn't want to interrupt)

Faust, on the other hand, has also had that song running through her head, and she will let you know: Friend singing? Surprise!

Nadia

"What a bold declaration of affection, MC. I'm impressed."

Let it be known that she only ever sings alone, in the bath, where no one can hear it

However, if you trust her with your voice, she might (might!) trust you with hearing hers one day

She prefers to accompany you on her organ

If you have the slightest interest in training your voice, she will find the best vocal coach for your style and preference possible

In the same vein, she will never pressure you to sing, but she will often request it or maybe suggest that you perform at a palace function. Only if you're up for it, of course, but she has faith in you!

If you get one of her sisters to secretly teach you a childhood favorite of hers from Prakra and surprise her with it she will lose her words

Nobody knows how it happens but Chandra appears within minutes whenever you sing. It doesn't matter how far away she was when you started

If you sing a song she's been thinking of she'll ask you if you have clairvoyance. Don't tell her that she was humming it under her breath all morning

Muriel

"..................."

As suggested, his usual response to hearing you sing is silence

He doesn't want to disturb or interrupt you, he just gives you his attention

Speaking of attention, don't look at him while you're singing. It's too much for him to handle and he'll start trying to sweat out his blush

As overwhelming as it can be for him though, he could listen to you all day. Your voice fits into the trees and the birdsong so perfectly it brings him peace

He may or may not scout out the spots with the best natural acoustics and regularly take you there

He has a deep, rumbly voice that he refuses to sing with, but there is one exception to this rule. Ask him to be your drone

If you can find a peaceful song that harmonizes perfectly with a sustained note, pitch it low enough to be comfortable for him, and ask him to sing it where nobody else can see or hear him, he'll do it

And he will sound incredible

Inanna, on the other hand, will become as playful and affectionate as a pup if you sing something upbeat enough

Portia

"I didn't know you could sing like that, MC! What else are you hiding from me?"

Starts asking you about all the songs you know. Can you do magic with singing? Have you learned any in an ancient or forbidden language? Oh ... right, of course, you don't remember

Determined to help you start building your own repertoire. She'll bring you plenty of songbooks from the Palace library

She's also spent plenty of time on several ships, and is quite fond of ballads herself. She'll teach you everything she knows so you two can sing together!

She'll also learn new singing styles with you on ambassador trips, if she can make the time (which she will)

You are going to learn so many sea shanties

Portia might even try to compose a few ballads with you, about your shared story

Singing softly to her will help her relax so quickly after a stressful day. Just start humming and she'll breathe easier

Pepi is quite vocal herself. Sometimes she'll perch close by and give you a series of long, drawn-out meows for you to harmonize with

If you sing something Portia's already thinking of she'll bluescreen

Lucio

"That was good, but check this out! AHEM-"

Now then, we all know that beauty is in the eye (or ear) of the beholder. Lucio's voice may sound gorgeous to you

But to everyone else, he is canonically tone-deaf with an "overdone theatre voice". If you're in any building not belonging to you or a close friend he will mostly likely get kicked out if you let him sing

He likes your voice very much though, and will ask you to sing for him all the time. Especially on travel-heavy days

He learns the hard way not to ask you to sing while hiking, after the times you got dizzy and out of breath at high altitudes

Mercedes and Melchior will get uncharacteristically calm when you sing. Their tails will wag slowly and they'll trot along in a happy, peaceful state

Lucio's singing has the opposite effect. They will howl along as loudly as their doggy lungs let them, sprinting frantically around and crashing into everything in their paths

Lucio has wondered if the calming effect of your singing would work on magical beasts. He was surprised when it didn't

Sing the song he was thinking of and he's belting it out with you, no holds barred

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana hc #the arcana headcanons #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana fluff #the arcana shitpost #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson

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too-antigonish · 5 months ago

Text

Morse: Fathers & Father Figures

What we learn about Morse's father in the Dexter's novels can seem a bit surprising in light of the way their relationship is depicted in Home.

According to a piece written by fellow author Mike Ripley, however, Dexter was, "...just about the only crime writer I know who has never bitched or complained about television adaptations of his work. He once told me that his philosophy was: “Books is books, telly is telly.” Only he probably put it more grammatically than that."

In Death Is Now My Neighbor, Dexter finally revealed Morse's first name: Endeavour. The chapter in question begins (tellingly?) with the epithet:

They fuck you up, your mum and dad. They may not mean to, but they do. They fill you with the faults they had And add some extra, just for you. (Philip Larkin, This Be the Verse')

A bit into the chapter we arrive at a moment where Morse is strolling around Bath with his new love interest, Janet, and the following conversation takes place:

It was late morning, as they were walking arm-in-arm down to the city centre, following the signs to the Roman Baths, that she asked him the question: 'Shall I just keep calling you "Morse"?'. 'I'd prefer that, yes.' 'Whatever you say, sir!' "You sound like Lewis. He always calls me "sir".' 'What do you call him?' '"Lewis".' 'Does he know your Christian name?' 'No.' 'How come you got lumbered with it?' Morse was silent awhile before answering:'They both had to leave school early, my parents - and they never had much of a chance in life themselves. That's partly the reason, I suppose. They used to keep on to me all the time about trying as hard as I could in life. They wanted me to do that. They expected me to do that. Sort of emotional blackmail, really - when you come to think of it.' 'Did you love them?" Morse nodded. 'Especially my father. He drank and gambled far too much ... but I loved him, yes. He knew nothing really - except two things: he could recite all of Macaulay's Lays of Ancient Rome by heart; and he'd read everything ever written about his greatest hero in life, Captain Cook - "Captain James Cook, 1728 to 1779", as he always used to call him.' 'And your mother?' 'She was a gentle soul. She was a Quaker.' 'It all adds up then, really?' said Janet slowly. 'I suppose so,' said Morse.

This conversation eventually leads to Janet convincing Morse to send Lewis a postcard in which he reveals his first name. The card reads:

"For Philistines like you, Lewis, as well as for classical scholars like me, this city with its baths, and temples must rank as one of the finest in Europe. You ought to bring the missus here some time. Did I ever get the chance to thank you for the few (!) contributions you made to our last case together? If I didn’t, let me thank you now – let me thank you for everything, my dear old friend. Yours aye, Endeavour (Morse)"

Spoiler: It makes Lewis cry.

One last note about Macaulay's Lays of Ancient Rome. The most famous poem from the collection is Horatius. It is quoted twice in Exeunt—first by a don, second and most memorably for me, by Thursday.

"Then out spake brave Horatius, The Captain of the Gate: "To every man upon this earth Death cometh soon or late. And how can man die better Than facing fearful odds, For the ashes of his fathers, And the temples of his Gods."'

#itv endeavour #endeavour morse #colin dexter #death is now my neighbor #endeavour: exeunt #fathers #father figures #lays of ancient rome #sunday free for all #sunday confessional

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saytrrose · 10 months ago

Note

Someone reblogged your Kinger and Queenie comic and I saw your reblog on curious anons, so here I am.

Anyways, dunno if ya have done this before but ya got headcanons on Kinger's relationships with everyone on TADC?

Like, besties with someone in specific, we get along even if he doesn't know we get along, that kind of stuff.

Ooh!! I really love this question eee

Kinger Headcanons! With.. EVERYONE! (Im including the abstracted characters, they are so so silly in my brain rn and i have a strong perception of them)

—————

Queenie:

- Queenie and him started out with a mutual.. dislike? Dislike from Queenies side, and general uncomfort from Kingers side.

- From the start their relationship was more so small bickering, mutual pining even, They both possess a sarcastic side to them, (I personally believe before Kinger went crazy that he used to be rather analytical and in control, a lot smarter yk.)

- They both were constantly compared for their likeness, which of course gave them a sense of need to.. prove themselves better? To stand out? Saw eachother as an obstacle until FINALLY they tried actually having a conversation.

- Their relationship dynamic is very much golden retriever x black cat.

- Once they actually were in a relationship, Queenie definitely keeps her sassy personality but she’s very soft spoken around Kinger.

- Kinger also changes, they act more differently around eachother than anyone else. Their general idea of “we are different” changes to “we are the only ones that truly understand one another”

- Oh they bickered SO MUCH it’s so silly, Queenie loves to tease, seem like she has a large ego but in private around just him she’s very very vulnerable and relies on him for comfort. She doesn’t feel like she needs to act a specific way around him or ever get really defensive.

- Kingers personality doesn’t change as much as Queenies does around people, however he does lean into feeling more vulnerable around her as well. He tries to seem calm and mostly friendly, but in private with just her he feels like he can actually rant and get emotional.

—————

Wriggle:

- Kinger and Wriggle have a very funny dynamic, as Wriggle is Queenies “best friend is the whole wide world” (quoted by Wriggle, not Queenie)

-They often like to wriggle in between Kinger and Queenie, (hahaha look at me I’m so funny I love puns please don’t unfollow me) they are bit clingy towards Queenie which Kinger doesn’t particularly mind in the slightest.

- Putting Queenie aside, those two I’d say are good friends too. Wriggle loves to ramble on and on to Kinger about things they enjoy or made or did- the list is endless and it’s usually Kinger when it comes to this because atleast Kinger looks like he’s paying attention, whereas Queenie has that.. blank stare.. (autism, your honor)

- Think of Wriggle as a wingman also, They know Queenie well, and things she wouldn’t tell Kinger? Thats Wriggles job. For example, Queenie talks about how it’d be cute to receive flowers but doesn’t want to outright ask for them, Wriggle goes to Kinger and keeps jabbing him in the side with their tail until his attention is gained, and tells him “you know what you should do!!” you get what happens fr

- The wingman job was specifically asked of by Kinger, to which Wriggle, being the snooty little “hmmm idk if I like you enough” worm they are.. obviously decides not to share Queenies private words. (I’m still deciding if Kinger persuaded Wriggle into the idea that it’d make Queenie happier in the long run or if he just dropped to his knees like PLEASEPLEASEOLEAZEPLEASE-)

—————

Slinky:

- Slinky and Kinger have a good relationship, they aren’t really friends that hang out on their own time, but if they are ever in a group then they’d interact.

- Slinky loves to knit and crochet, and she made a task to knit everyone a tiny plush to have. She gave Kinger a tiny stag beetle plush, and he adores it so much, it’s right on his bed. ☠️ (perhaps I could make another post listing all the plushies Slinky made for everyone but idkkk only if it’s inquired about)

- They are the two shyest? Of the whole group, not inherently shy but the most quiet unless spoken to and definitely most anxiety filled. They have an unspoken code of certain looks they give eachother that they can instantly understand.

- In Kingers full honesty, if he was given the chance to choose a person to be in his team for an adventure and Queenie was taken, he’d choose Slinky. She’s just a very patient individual and he thinks he goes well with someone like that.

—————

Kaufmo:

- Their friendship is like trying to combine oil and water.. they don’t mix easily… They have respect for one another, an extent of it and Kinger probably has more than Kaufmo but they have very different conflicting personalities.

- Kaufmo is prickly and pessimistic most of the time, however I do want to think around Kinger he hold back a little. These two ended up being the last of the old cast, they’ve been through alot together…

- Kaufmo hates lovey dovey stuff, god forbid Kinger even rests a hand on Queenies side or something- he WILL point it out like a toddler grossed out by seeing their parents kiss.

- I think after Queenie abstracts it really changes. I want to assume that is when Kinger finally fully lost every marble he was hanging onto and Kaufmo.. well he realized how much he really missed those two together.

- Post Queenie, I think their relationship evolves from annoyance to much more understanding, not knowing eachother too personally as one would hope, given their circumstances but they would still go out of their way for a quick “are you okay?”

—————

Peepo:

- Peepo is a super sweet guy, and I’d say he was a good acquaintance of Kingers just for the fact there wasn’t too many guys and they were both very friendly.

- Peepo was the first to arrive of this old group, so he was much like in Kingers place with the current crew. However he’s not crazy because this is likely to beginning of when people started to get trapped in the game still, and not too much time had even passed. Aka, more people were entering than abstracting most definitely.

- Anyway, to touch up on the above one, because of this he has a sort of natural leadership over everyone, people seem to seek him out on information about the world just because he’s been there the longest. This includes Kinger! To Peepo, if he needed a right hand man he actually really relied on Kinger.

- There’s a small place by the digital lake that no one knows about except Peepo. When the sun starts to set he almost always likes to just.. go outside the tent and walk to it, and the only person he ended up showing was Kinger. It became sort of a spot for just them to talk, which is likely what made them closer. Kinger later would use this exact spot to ask Queenie out…Jumping to canon, the only person who knows of the spot now is Kinger, and he often goes there to seclude himself.

—————

Moppsy:

- Even though I put her here, I can’t really come up with anything! I use Moppsy as the first abstraction Kinger would witness, and likely didn’t really know her or have a relationship with her. Putting her here to include this though!

—————

Pomni:

- Woo!! Og cast now!! I think Pomni and Kinger will get along well given time. While Kinger is certainly.. eclectic in his personality at this point in his stay in the circus, I think Pomni would be comfortable talking to him about things more than Jax or Zooble, who knows! Just based on what I know from the pilot.

- Kinger used to invite anyone and everyone into the pillow forts he made, but once majority of the old cast abstracted I’d assume he stopped completely, instead using it as his own safe haven. However, Pomni is the first one that he very awkwardly asks if she would like to come inside, which leads to him feeling more inclined and comfortable to invite the others.

- Kinger notices and thinks Pomni is very different than the others, anyone he’s known so far infact and he probably outright tells her this because he lacks the ability to really filter his thoughts anymore. She doesn’t quite understand the nonsense he babbles out about it, but in the series if Pomni finds the exit or changes the circus for the better or WHATEVER goes on as she’s the protagonist, I’m just gonna say Kinger had a gut feeling from the start.

- Pomni seems to care the most when Kinger wants to show someone a bug, and that can be left up to the interpretation that the others just got tired of him doing it all the time and Pomnis not used to it yet, or she genuinely just tries to nod along and it makes him very happy to get a response.

—————

Ragatha:

- I think during the whole old cast abstracting and being replaced, if we look at the lineup of how everyone entered, I think Ragatha was the only one to actually know Queenie. Atleast see in person for a while, perhaps.

- I think those two would have gotten along SOOO well but!! This is about Kinger,, and I think Kinger and Ragatha also get along very well. She reminds him of Slinky…

- They both know they don’t talk or vent about their own problems at all, atleast anymore for Kinger. They are both bad at keeping it bottled up inside and while they both understand this about eachother, they don’t pry.

- If anything they have tea together often, and only they know alot about tea and really really enjoy it so it’s like their own bonding thing in a way.

- Ragatha came out to him first as a lesbian for some interesting strange reason, though if we follow my beloved trans Queenie hc I like to apply to things sometimes then she likely did it because she knows Kinger isn’t judgmental on lgbt topics.

—————

Zooble:

- I enjoy thinking of Zooble as an angsty teenage child compared to Kingers senile old dad energy

- I think in Kingers eyes they seem to get along a little bit but he’s just a tad intimidated. In Zoobles eyes they wouldn’t let anyone know how much they really like Kinger, afterall he’s nothing but sweet when being spoken with. It’s a nice break from.. Jax or Caine, even the others who are very emotional. Yes they can be kind too, but it’s like you don’t have to try with Kinger because he’s so finicky that he doesn’t remember every detail of your interaction to judge you on it anymore.

- I like to think whenever Kinger needs help with something Zooble lets out a dramatic sigh and goes to help him (no one asked them to and anyone else could’ve volunteered but okay Zoob we know you just genuinely like his company)

- Zooble gave him a weighted blanket as a gift to include in his pillow forts once and he had a panic attack while under it once because he couldn’t move (he loves it so so much I promise)

- Again hhh Dad Daughter vibe I really enjoy it I think Queenie would’ve adored Zooble like a mother too plsplsplsolsolsols

—————

Jax:

- Jax would call Kinger a boomer a lot and it stresses Kinger out so much because he doesn’t know what it means and when he asked Zooble to explain it to him they convinced him it was slur and so Kinger got Caine to censor the word boomer

- Kinger is like genuinely terrified of Jax and how much of a menace he is, he’s never known anyone that acts like this mf its insane

- Kinger does infact has some pet bugs in a large terrarium in his room and because Jax has keys to everyone’s rooms he with steal Kingers bugs (an example, the centipede he put in Ragathas room? Probably Kingers..)

- Kinger honestly tries his best to avoid Jax hhshs

—————

Gangle:

- Kinger is probably the closest to Gangle of everyone in the current cast.

- Gangle likes to draw and write and ramble and everything to Kinger, even when she has her tragedy mask on, he seems to cheer her up a little just by hanging out near her. Kinger really enjoys it.

- When Gangle does have her happy mask on, it irks something inside Kinger. She really reminds him of Wriggle. And he was much closer to Wriggle than Slinky so.. it bothers him a bit unlike Ragatha being similar to Slinky in few ways.

- She introduced him to anime and while she has a giant ass list of ones she enjoys he’s.. just quite fixated on ghibli movies… he finds them neat.

- They are.. autism buddies.. More so it’s well aware with everyone that Kinger is diagnosed with Autism but Gangle isn’t diagnosed, and Kinger is the only one staring HARD like “hhh ik what you are” fr fr anyway because I hc them both as autistic that’s another reason they tend to group together and get along more.

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biffhofosho · 4 months ago

Text

Sneak Peek: Hot Girls ____

Affectionally referred to in my head as "Hot Girls Blank." This excerpt comes from my first Changkyun multichapter. I am weirdly so proud about this story. Somehow, it has come together very "Kyun" to me. He's a hard one to write because I feel like he's an elusive man to truly know, but I'm just really pumped about this series.

Synopsis: Her whole life, Vi’s been known as the cute one, the cherub-cheeked sweetheart who’s got it all together. She’s a good girl, but that doesn’t mean she wants to be, especially when she keeps losing out to the bad ones.

Vi’s best friend, Changkyun, however, is hardly a saint. He’s a consumer of hot girls, chronically unattached and comfortable that way. If anybody knows how to help Vi step out of her shell and take back her confidence, it’s him. It’s a good thing she can always count on her Kyun to step up to the plate.

“In retrospect,” said Vi as she scrounged through her cupboard for something salty to snack on, “shy librarian was maybe the wrong way to approach a guy these days.”

Changkyun’s brow scrunched. “What’s wrong with a shy librarian?”

“Nothing. She’s just not the girl who catches the attention. We’re living in the era of Instagram models. A guy like you is not taking a girl like me home. I have to face that.”

“That’s ridiculous,” he challenged, “and I resent it.”

“I love you, Kyun, and you can resent it all you want, but I have never seen you with a shy librarian on your arm.”

He scowled, but he couldn’t argue because facts were facts. “That’s not because I don’t find them attractive.”

“No, it’s because you assume they all want to tie you down. Sometimes we just want to get railed.”

Changkyun nearly spit his drink across the counter, but instead, he choked it down and finished out a coughing fit. Between wheezes, he managed, “I’m sorry, what?”

“I’m tired of being the cute girl that has to settle for vanilla sex in a long-term relationship. I’ve had plenty of that, and it was fine for a while, but maybe I want some meaningless hot sex, too. Why not? I’m single.”

“No, I know that, but—”

“See? I can tell from that ‘but’ that you would never expect a 'cute' girl like me to want something like that. Cute girls like fuzzy sweaters and stuffed animals and those teeny little pastries that you eat in one bite.”

“Okay, but you do like those things,” Changkyun reminded.

“Yeah, I know, but I also like sex, and I want more of it.”

“Are you seriously trying to tell me that my best friend since second grade, who once invited me to her My Little Pony party, oh, and made me wear matching onesie Christmas pajamas last year, wants a—” The bottom fell out in his voice and, despite his casual appearance and even more casual attitude to relationships, he whispered, “—fuck buddy?”

“Or a few one-night-stands. I’m not picky.”

Changkyun stared blankly across the counter. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“See? This is my point. No guy like you is going to even consider sleeping with me because you assume I’m going to bring the baggage of a relationship. Well, I want a break from that shit, too. This is where you come in.”

“Whoa, Viola, I know that—”

“Shut up for a second, would ya? I’m not trying to guilt you into sex, Kyun, but I do want your help.”

At this, her best friend cocked his head. “My help?”

Viola leaned across the counter and locked eyes with Changkyun. She could see his nerves in the hard press of his lips, but she knew he was the only guy she could trust with this, so she soldiered on, emboldened by a bad fucking day and good fucking alcohol. “You've done this a lot. This is your wheelhouse. Teach me. Show me how to be a hot girl.”

He sighed and rolled his head back. “Why do you want to be a quote-unquote hot girl, Viola? They're a dime a dozen.”

“Because hot girls get laid,” she said frankly.

Changkyun scoffed. “You’re not a virgin, and you’re hot as is.”

“You have to say that as my best friend, but also, you’re not trying to sleep with me. You and I are in two different leagues of attractive, Kyun. You’re made up of all kinds of sharp angles—you’re objectively hot. I’m a freaking circle. Don’t say it—don’t say it. I know I’m not ugly, okay, but the fact of the matter is I want to be less Shirley Temple and more Naomi Campbell. You can show me how! All you do is interact with people who ooze sexiness. So, just walk me through the things that clue you in that a girl just wants to sleep with you and we can move on.”

“I don’t think I’m comfortable with this,” he admitted.

“Because you think I’m a hopeless case?”

“Because I think you’ll get hurt.”

Vi’s apartment had never felt so quiet. It was like a vacuum, where all sound and light had been siphoned away. She felt the irrational urge to cry, but she wasn’t exactly sure why, and she pulled her hoody tightly over her head again.

Changkyun frowned apologetically. “I’m worried you’re only saying this because you’re a little drunk and a lot hurt already. That’s a bad recipe to start making new life choices.”

“Thanks, Dr. Phil. It’s fine. Forget it. You don’t need to say anymore.”

But he refused to leave it at that. He laid his head on the counter so he was back in her sulky line-of-sight, and he smiled reassuringly. “I don’t think you’re a hopeless case, by the way. It’s just that you’re already so beautiful. You deserve more. I want more for you.”

“Okay, but you don’t get to make that decision for me, just like I can’t make you help me with this.”

Changkyun growled. “You're doing all this because of stupid Henry?”

“No!”

“Really? Because you’ve never said any of this stuff before today.”

Vi leapt up from her seat so she could lean back against the sink and stuff her arms across her chest. “Maybe I was embarrassed to, but after the humiliation I suffered this afternoon, I’m done caring about that. If everyone else can just go after what they want, why can’t I?”

“I get it. It’s just… What's so great about hot girls?”

“You tell me. You bed one a week.”

“‘Bed one?’” he laughed.

“You're only making my point. I’m hopeless without you, Kyun, see?” she whined. She darted back to the breakfast bar next to him as she sensed the first hint of caving.

“Viola, is this what you really want? Some guy who just sleeps with you and doesn't call you ever again?”

Vi ran her fingertip around the rim of her shot glass as she considered Changkyun’s words. “I know you think I’m just saying this because of today, but what do you think today was about in the first place? Yeah, maybe I had a crush on Henry first, and that’s probably the exact wrong way to start something casual, but it wasn’t like I wanted to marry the guy either. You know I've only done the committed thing. What’s so wrong with wanting to explore something new, especially when I see you having an endless good time?”

“It’s really not like that,” he asserted as he took another shot.

She waited for him to finish his thought, but, typical Changkyun, he held back the full breadth of his feelings, and even though Vi knew him better than anyone else, some days it felt like she only knew the tip of the iceberg.

“Yeah, I'm the guy you fuck, but I’m not the one you end up with. Just so we’re both clear, I know jack shit about love.”

“Exactly! You’re perfect. You know what guys like you are looking for. You can be my tutor and my wingman.”

“It’s just a little weird that I’m your best friend. My job has always been to keep you away from guys like me.”

“You’re doing a terrible job then, bestie,” she teased as she nudged his knuckles with her own.

“You know what I mean.”

“I do, so for now, let’s just change our title to friends with benefits, okay?”

Changkyun rolled his eyes. “That’s not what that means.”

“I know. I’m trying to be clever.”

He stood up from the bar and waltzed into the living room, hands in his baggy jean pockets. Vi could tell from the way his iris tattoo flexed on his forearm that he was balling his fists, but at least he seemed to be taking her seriously. He paced behind the back of the couch before he leaned on it. His head whipped toward her as he said firmly, “If I do this, we need ground rules.”

“You got it, teach.”

Vi shucked off the Eeyore hoodie and tossed it on the counter as she raced into the kitchen and started rifling through her junk drawer.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Getting a pen and paper?”

Changkyun laughed. “Of course you are.”

“Hey, organization can be hot, too,” she objected. “And everybody likes a good listener, right?”

At this, her friend paused, stone still as he stared at her. Only when she waggled the pen at him did he blink and nod.

“You said I'm the expert,” Changkyun began, “so I expect you to listen to everything I have to say whether you want to hear it or not.”

Vi scrawled a quick note as she said, “You got it.”

“That means I go with you to clubs and bars when you want to meet guys so I can vet them.”

“Makes sense.”

“And if I don't get a good feeling about somebody you’re pursuing, you drop it instantly.”

“Fair enough.”

Changkyun cleared his throat to lift her attention from her notes. “Instantly, Viola. I mean it. I know how headstrong you can be when you think you're right, but I know the players and the game.”

“I know you do, and I’m not arguing, am I? See? Good listener.”

Again, he gave her a funny stare, and she felt that same sense that he was keeping things from her despite their current conversation.

But then he let out a breath and leaned forward, his hands falling to steady him on the back of the couch. “If you're uncomfortable with anything, you tell me. You don't have to do things just because you think it's what you think you should be doing.”

“I get how limits work, Kyun,” Vi said, a little annoyed, but he shook his head.

“I'm not just talking about bedroom stuff. If something doesn't feel like you, then I don't want you to do it.”

“I said okay…”

“I'm serious. Write it down. It’s the only way I'm agreeing to this.” Changkyun stared hard at her notepad until she finally got over her shock at his force and jotted his words down.

“I hear you, I hear you,” she grumbled.

“You trust me, right?” he asked with a seriousness that Vi had rarely heard from him.

“Of course I trust you.”

There was a shift in the room now. Somehow, the temperature both seemed to plummet and soar at the same time, and Vi felt very disoriented. She was glad for the wall behind her or she might have tripped over nothing but the intensity wafting off of her best friend.

“Good. I want you to trust me enough to tell me absolutely everything,” said Changkyun. Despite how intimidating the man’s aura could be, right now, he was drawing her in closer and closer with those black hole eyes and bittersweet chocolatey voice. “I don't want you to be afraid to tell me all the things you want or like. You know me, I'm the last person in the world who would judge you, but that doesn’t mean it might not surprise me.”

“You mean like I already surprised you tonight?” Vi ribbed lightly.

“Yeah, but now that I know this is what you really want, I'm going to make sure you get it all.”

#monsta x smut #changkyun smut #multichapter #upcoming fic

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ohgaylor · 2 years ago

Text

IT MUST BE EXHAUSTING (AN ANALYSIS)

Hi. Taylor’s the problem. And she knows it. (affectionate)

All right friends. It’s time to dive into an analysis again. I’ve been reflecting on a lot of Midnights and Taylor’s ever-present self-deprecation this era and in my regular fashion, I had to make an extremely long-winded analysis post about a certain motif of hers that I’ve noticed has only grown more apparent this time around. and essentially that is her self-awareness toward her ever-ambiguous signaling in regard to her identity, and where she is positioned in the complicated and delicate journey of coming out, as well as the plethora of emotions that surround that for both herself and her fans and those of us who pick up on the queer coded subtext of her music and art.

to kick off this analysis, may I remind you of this beauty of a quote from Taylor’s 2018 reputation tour pride speech that prefaced Delicate?

I want to send my love and respect to everybody who in their journey and in their life hasn't yet felt comfortable enough to come out ... and may you do that on your own time and may we end up with a world where everyone can live and love equally and no one has to be afraid to say how they feel. When it comes to feelings and when it comes to love and searching for someone to spend your whole life with, it’s all just really really delicate.

That is quite possibly my favorite thing she’s ever said. and what inspired this tag.

Now I need to clarify up front — I am never insinuating a need or even desire for Taylor to come out. Because that’s not our place to say. If you’ve been around my blog long enough, I would hope that nuance would be apparent. I simply point out regular motifs and patterns within her art and how it correlates with queer-coded themes of closets, of almost coming out, of outright queer coding, of rainbows, of keeping a love secret and safe, and on and on and on. The signs are there if you know what to look for (re: “I gave so many signs”) and that’s what I explore on my blog. The point is, I will never demand she come out. But I will stand with her in this complex journey she appears to be on. It’s entirely her journey and however she wishes to navigate that is hers to decide.

but that doesn’t detract from the reality that for those of us who see this beautiful queer subtext of her art and music and visuals and work and self, the ambiguity and constant back-and-forth when it comes to her identity (and the idea of coming out) can in fact be a lot to try and process and understand and ultimately to reconcile as we root for her. Trying to understand where she stands is much like chasing a moving target. (not that she owes any explanation to us, because again, she doesn’t.) her art and creativity are her place of expression and catharsis. however, watching her navigate these complexities and trying to root for her in this sometimes messy space is also, dare I say, exhausting.

hence, the title and general theme of this analysis.

so let’s begin.

First, we have this verse in Anti-Hero which is the perfect setup to illustrate this specific motif,

I should not be left to my own devices They come with prices and vices I end up in crises Tale as old as time

This is essentially the thesis of Taylor’s message, the feeling that her own judgement and actions might be the very cause for certain crises she finds herself in, however enticing those vices and choices may be. In choosing to straddle a glass-closeted lifestyle as an artist at her status and level of fame, all the while heavily queer-coding to her (receptive) audiences, only to be seen by most others as the hallmark of straight women as per her highly publicized bearding, juggling this all can be overwhelming. But it’s also a space that she has essentially curated and perpetuated herself.

An anti-hero is a central character in a narrative who conspicuously lacks heroic, moral qualities:

Although antiheroes may sometimes perform actions that are morally correct, it is not always for the right reasons, often acting primarily out of self-interest or in ways that defy conventional ethical codes.

Identifying herself as the anti-hero in this sense comes as a candid confession, as though she is admitting that maybe she is driven by self-interest. (which again, she is entitled to as we all are in our own lives.) (re: the jokes weren’t funny, I took the money, my friends at home don’t know what to say) Alternatively, and perhaps additionally, acting out of self-interest in this context may mean concealment of parts of her identity for the sake of self-preservation. The nuances behind why she hasn’t chosen to come out are at play here and I doubt any of us can fully comprehend what that is exactly.

I never had the courage of my convictions, as long as danger is near

Pouring out my heart to a stranger but I didn’t pour the whiskey

Combat, I'm ready for combat. I say I don't want that, but what if I do? 'Cause cruelty wins in the movies. I've got a hundred thrown-out speeches I almost said to you … Dark side, I search for your dark side. But what if I'm alright, right, right, right here?

You can easily grasp the intense oscillation as she goes back and forth between these decisions while juggling a myriad of reasons and factors, all of which are incredibly weighted. She knows it’s exhausting for us because it’s that much more exhausting for herself.

So, she elects to pursue a route all too familiar to closeted individuals in the public eye, one of bearding and concealing their identity.

I had some tricks up my sleeve … Perched in the dark, telling all the rich folks anything they wanna hear, like it could be love, I could be the way forward, only if they pay for it … the skeletons in both our closets plotted hard to fuck this up

I took the money. My friends from home don't know what to say.

The cost at which this lifestyle comes is worthy of an analysis all on its own. But Taylor seems to be indicating that she has found safety and security in her self-made cages and closets of sorts.

I prefer hiding in plain sight

‘Cause shade never made anybody less gay

If the shoe fits, walk in it 'til your high heels break

My town was a wasteland, full of cages, full of fences*, pageant queens and big pretenders. But for some, it was paradise.

In the darkest little paradise

(also, note the *fences. I’ll come back to that later.)

She brings focus to the fact that her town was full of cages and fences, which initially may carry a negative connotation. But here’s where she turns it around and says that for some, it was place of paradise, that the self-made cages brought security and freedom. That the idea of “forever” is in fact the sweetest con. That the good life she was hustling for through the tricks she had up her sleeve is within grasp. That this could be the way forward. Tell me that doesn’t scream a queer-coded experience?

But knowing Taylor and the complicated nature of this deeply personal topic, there is also a level of remorse regarding the said-cages and choices that had put her in crisis.

I cut off my nose just to spite my face, then hate my reflection for years and years

I’ve got a hundred thrown out speeches I almost said to you

I’d pay if you’d just know me

Now, despite the way she has managed to remain glass-closeted, a large subset of her fans and the general public completely miss what she is signaling in regard to her queerness. (re: “I gave so many signs / you didn’t even see the signs”) but it appears she is feeling some remorse for the devices she’s used and the way she’s navigated things because she knows that she’ll be the one paying for it.

So again, Taylor fully acknowledges she’s the problem. She endlessly dances around the topic, sometimes to an extreme (re: “bent the truth too far tonight,” Bettygate and specifying a male perspective despite widespread interpretation of the alternative; similar thing with Lavendergate, etc etc) She writes from “male perspectives” so as to have a way to write female pronouns. She uses pseudonyms for similar motives. She equates herself with gay pride and places herself adjacent to the community repeatedly, and dances in Gaylor Park and rainbow kaleidoscopes. She dresses in rainbow attire and gives speeches emphasizing the delicacy of coming out and on and on, all while also remaining straight-passing. It’s complicated and messy and indeed exhausting.

sending signals to be double-crossed

I’ll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror. It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero

no doubt these devices and choices have come at a cost. first, the personal cost of remaining closeted (or in the very least, glass closeted) by her own making. The nature by which she has driven her career, of “taking the money” and pursuing a career (and by extension, following heteronormative cultural standards of remaining closeted), all point to the self-made cages she twists in.

recall the Delicate pride speech…

I want to send my love and respect to everybody who in their journey and in their life hasn't yet felt comfortable enough to come out ... and may you do that on your own time

That is a major theme for her. The idea that through a closeted state, certain freedoms can coexist.

We know Taylor has made a point to emphasize the comfort she has found in keeping elements of her life to herself post her apocalyptic summer. And the way she has largely receded her personal life from the public eye is telling. In an effort to protect the “real stuff”, she is withholding from others and has found safety in that.

Privacy sign on the door and on my page and on the whole world, romance is not dead if you keep it just yours.

She knows it’s not always a world that some would choose to be a part of. She describes it as a wasteland, likely desolate, harkening back to cowboy like me. A place where hustling for the good life, perching in the dark as con artists (or pageant queens and big pretenders) and telling all the rich folks anything they want to hear like “it could be love” is all too familiar.

It’s a painful dichotomy she fully explores in The Archer, recognizing that maybe it’s her lot in life to straddle these lines of staying where she is, perched in the dark, while wanting to step into the daylight and let it go.

and that’s where the second cost comes in — in how those of us who see her for what she is signaling herself to be, are ultimately left to ourselves to make sense of it.

It’s the same kind of essence of this fantastic analysis regarding coney island and her apology of not making us certain subsets of her fans and communities her centerfold.

Being left to her own devices, she has ultimately crafted a duplicitous persona, of which she has spoken about specifically when discussing mirrorball…

Everybody else feels like they have to be on for certain people. You have to be different versions of yourself for different people. Different versions at work, different versions around friends, different versions of yourself around different friends. Different version of yourself around family. Everybody has to be duplicitous, or feels that they have to in some ways, be duplicitous. And that’s part of the human experience, but it’s also exhausting. You kind of learn that every one of us has the ability to become a shape-shifter. But what does that do to us?

Is it self-preservation? Or self-made self-destruction? (re: “they told me all of my cages were mental” “what a shame she’s fucked in the head” “lost in the labyrinth of my mind”)

Among the various anxieties that plague her in regard to this subject, Taylor makes one fear very clear. And that is for some inevitable day where we will leave her after we’ve had enough of “her scheming”.

'Cause they see right through me, they see right through me, they see right through. Can you see right through me?

I wake up screaming from dreaming One day I'll watch as you're leaving 'Cause you got tired of my scheming For the last time

These desperate prayers of a cursed man spilling out to you for free, but darling, darling, please, you wouldn't take my word for it if you knew who was talking if you knew where I was walking

Will you forgive my soul when you're too wise to trust me and too old to care?

She will get as close as she can to the topic, (“Gay pride… everything that makes me me!” to name just one) only to pull back or leave it ambiguous and devoid of clarity…

I'll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror

And I cut off my nose just to spite my face Then I hate my reflection for years and years

…only to feel guilt for skirting around the topic…

You said I was freeloading … I bent the truth too far tonight, I was dancing around, dancing around it … Your picket fence is sharp as knives, I was dancing around, dancing around it

This to me is the a significant price that comes from her being left to her own devices. Yes, there is freedom that comes from closeting/bearding. But glass closeting brings a more painful mess of emotions for both the closet-er and those seeing it for what it is. This is what she addresses in Anti-Hero with painful clarity.

And sometimes this can come at a painful cost. Take YNTCD for example. In this video, she positions herself within the queer community, dancing in Gaylor Park, and boldly declares herself an advocate for LGBTQIA rights.

But as we know, the video was met by many as out-of-touch (re: “freeloading”), performative and whatever else critics were spewing.

motion capture put me in a bad light. I replay my footsteps on each stepping stone, trying to find the one where I went wrong. writing letters addressed to the fire

Now for a detour.

I want to talk about the purple / blue / lavender glitter for a minute. Here, in the Directors on Directors interview, Taylor describes the glitter as being a metaphor for herself...

It’s supposed to be a metaphor for like, I bleed glitter, I’m not normal, there’s something wrong with me, I’m not a person, I don’t belong, I don’t fit in anywhere.

Recall how I said chasing a moving target?

Let’s talk about the significance of this scene and a handful of others in terms of the lavender glitter.

[For some queer context regarding glitter]

I’d first like to point out Hayley Kiyoko’s purple glitter jacket above, from the YNTCD video. This is Hayley Kiyoko we’re talking about. The proclaimed Lesbian Jesus. And in this moment, while she is wearing the purple glitter jacket, she is aiming an arrow at a target, signifying The Archer. This moment is key.

And then you have the Miss Americana documentary, wherein Taylor explicitly equates herself with gay pride, while talking about the Me! music video.

It’s a line of dialogue that screams at me with such intensity. Irrefutable. As a film editor, I know that every line in a film is deliberately placed and thought out and meticulously addressed. And therefore we can trust that Taylor intended for this line to make it into the film. I can tell that surrounding dialogue is seemingly trimmed and crafted in a delicate way. And part of that is the very direct statement that “Gay pride…everything that makes me, me!”

And it’s within this music video that we again witness a massive “ME!” literally jumping out at us on screen, in none other than purple glitter.

A handful of others could sense that the conclusion of Miss Americana felt as thought it was headed in a different direction than the one it ultimately took. And that for whatever reason, Taylor’s political advocacy took center stage while a deeper analysis regarding her LGBTQIA advocacy did not.

Cut back to the Anti-Hero music video where we get The Archer aiming right for Taylor, and striking her, causing her to bleed, yet again, purple glitter.

Pierced through the heart but never killed… did you hear my covert narcissism I disguise as altruism, like some kind of congressman

My covert (secret) narcissism (ME!) I disguise as altruism like some kind of congressman (the political turn and advocacy present in Miss Americana)

In other words, covering up who she is (“gay pride… everything that makes me me!”) under the guise of a film almost exclusively focused on her journey of discovering her political (“Vote for me for everything” pin) activist voice. And what scene depicts this with near precision???

this one.

motion capture put me in a bad light. I replay my footsteps on each stepping stone, trying to find the one where I went wrong. writing letters addressed to the fire

'cause cruelty wins in the movies, I've got a hundred thrown-out speeches I almost said to you

The subsequent look on her face of absentminded agony says it all. She knows the confusion that comes from rooting for her as (especially if she is seen as an ally who maybe crosses one too many lines if presumably as straight.)

The inner-turmoil on display for us in The Archer has transformed into a tone all too exhausted in its own right within Anti-Hero. She knows we’re tired. She’s tired too. In a self-deprecating jab, she admits that she is the problem and she knows that everybody ultimately agrees with her on this. Shielded within a pop anthem, her vulnerability is on display. And so, in Dear Reader, with equal parts desperation as well as wit, she concludes…

You should find another guiding light, guiding light. But I shine so bright.

And so it is ultimately within this utterly messy, exhausting, complicated, ever-changing and nuanced journey that Taylor reaches out to those of us who do in fact see through her and who ultimately simply see her, that she asks us in all sincerity…

Who could stay? Who could stay? Who could stay? You could stay.

And I, for one, will stay.

[enjoy my other analyses here]

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