#I was still overall like a stabilizing presence for her

[cesium-sheep]

no yeah pretty sure it's a trauma response thing.

the whole year has been so very very very bad, so as the end gets nearer I get counterintuitively more anxious, both because I become more afraid something else will come along to kick me back into the pit and because I have a little more room to breathe instead of just having to grit my teeth and carry on. (this is pretty normal in the context of prolonged stress and long-term traumatic situations (as opposed to singular Events))

[kaicubus]

Distraction P2 | Xavier T.

warnings ✩° : mutual pining, fluff confession, slight VERY SLIGHT angst bc i was listening to enchanted by taylor swift at one point in this, closure, both reader and xavier are 17-18 years old.

pairing ✩° : xavier thorpe x fem!reader

premise ✩° : demanding answers from your rival who stole a kiss from you  unexpectedly at the poe cup to distract you, you confront him, this time  ready to catch HIM off guard.  

word count ✩° : 3.1k

authors note ✩° : a performance was demanded of me. and now i have delivered. ENCOREEEEEEEEEE!!! anyways. OMG I HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS EEHEHHEHE GIGGLING KICKING MY FEET...hope you enjoy...also expect more fics of xavier bc i love this show and i love him.

From the time you lost horribly due to a certain distraction to the time now, your mind has been scrambled to the point of irrevocable recovery. Still, you didn’t say anything to your friends or your teammates, especially about your plans for tonight.

The feeling of that kiss had been lingering for hours on your lips, how could he catch you off guard like that? You wanted to be angry, you wanted to throw all the books off of your desk and wreck everything around you, but you physically can’t. It’s almost as if the feeling of Xavier’s hands trailing down your waist were keeping you from it all.

You sit up in a panic and shake your head, “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“Y/n it’s kinda hard to ignore the fact you lost that completion for us but it’s even harder to pretend like somethings not on your mind. As your friend, we need to talk.

“There’s nothing we need to talk about.”

She sits down next to you on your bed and leans back, hugging her knee to give her stability, “So what I heard was that only you and Xavier made it to shore. Could it be something with him?”

Before she can ask more agonizing questions, you sit up and throw the doors of your closet open. “Woah. Calm down.” F/n says softly, “Look if you don’t want to talk about it we don’t have to. I just want to know if—“

“The reason I didn’t get back in time.” You ignore her, huffing roughly, “I was distracted. That’s all that needs to be said.”

“A bit of both, F/n. A bit of both.” With that, you get dressed into a more comfortable outfit, adjusting your hair and doing other rituals to finalize your outing. It should be fun.

“Y/n.” Xavier raises his brows, “Didn’t think you’d actually come. Considering you hate me and all.” He takes a moment to take in all of you. Your outfit, your hair, your makeup, he can’t help but smile to himself. After all, you look cute, so who is he not to appreciate that?

“Afternoon, Xavier.” Your eyebrows lift on instinct, expressing your disapproval of your presence in front of him already. He has his arm propped up against the frame of his door and the way he leans onto it so casually makes something inside of you self implode. Complete with a parted grin, Xavier locks eyes with you and waits for your response.

“I-I don’t hate you.” Keeping composure wasn’t an option. Looking at him in the eyes even once would remind you of that kiss. In fact, looking at him in general was a guaranteed flashback. “At least right now. I have questions.”

“I think I have answers.” He shrugs, “Though I think that kiss kind of cleared everything up—“

You cut him off with a rough sigh, “Yeah. It’s about that.”

“Ok, so…You going to come in? Or are we going to talk right here?” He glances up and looks around at all the passing students. With a small nod, you find yourself entering his dorm room. Hung drawings and strung along polarioids line the walls, giving the overall atmosphere of the room an artsy aesthetic. It’s not as clean as yours, and he lives alone ever since Rowan was expelled from Nevermore, but it’s still nice.

“Sorry about the mess,” Xavier’s voice tugs you back into reality, “I forgot to clean up. The Amontillado’s and I went out for dinner and you know I had a killer steak, almost lost track of time before I realized that I had a possible date with Y/n L/n. I of course didn't want to miss that.” Even though the words coming out of his mouth are cocky and prideful, he looks at you like all of what he’s saying is exaggerated and sarcastic. He’s good at confusing you.

Still, his subtle gloat makes you roll your eyes, “Was that necessary? The steak? The celebrating?”

“Oh absolutely.” He dips his head down and grins, “Let’s talk on my bed.”

“Sure.”

The two of you sit down on the edge of his bed, and now it becomes increasingly obvious that you're the only nervous one between the two of you. Xavier doesn't shy away from the fact either, instead he steals multiple glances at your fidgety hands and blushed cheeks and grins mischievously.

“Do you remember the kiss? How it even happened?” You start, looking him directly in the eyes.

He raises a brow and continues his grin, “Uh, yeah. Other than the fact it was a few hours ago, I don't see why I’d forget it?”

“You didn't answer me from before. I know that now you told me all of that to distract me from the race, but why were you so adamant on telling me that you like me? You could've kissed me and did that, since it was a fool proof plan.”

“Fool proof?” Xavier raises his hand and curls it to his lips, “Me kissing you, was fool proof? For a distraction? Honestly, if you admit it was, I’m not complaining. But I didn't know you could tell me that if I ever tried kissing you before, you'd accept it.”

Usually, you’d be annoyed. Your face would burn with aggression and you’d feel violent remarks bubble in your throat, but now you can’t even think of anything mean to say. Just another question.

“Did you kiss me just to kiss me? Or was it all just a plan?”

Hearing the question makes Xavier stop his teasing. Lip tucked between his teeth to keep quiet, he looks at you, half wondering if what you just said was serious or not and the other half choosing his next words extremely carefully. Though it doesn’t help the throbbing in his chest seeing the way your head is tilted just enough so that you're looking up at him through your lashes, too nervous to hold eye contact for so long.

A brief silence washes over you both before Xavier rubs the back of his neck, pensive in thought. His feeble attempt at making himself seem calm and collected only makes him shift in his position next to you, accidentally brushing his hip against yours.

“No,” Xavier says, his voice just above a whisper, “I meant everything I said. I never wanted to be better than you, I just wanted to talk to you. I like you a lot, Y/n. I never lied about that.”

You show the side of your face and let your shoulders fall, “I never said you lied about it. There’s nothing you can lie about in a kiss like that. You deceived me, not lied.”

He rolls his lips into his mouth and rubs his hand onto his thigh, “You know, it’s not really deception if I meant it all. I was dressed as a jester you know, secretly funny despite being advertised as a joke.”

His laughter that follows after makes your heart tremble. Looking back at him, your smile falls back into nervousness, “I don’t…I don’t not like you.” You stare at his lips, scared to meet his gaze that’s very clearly fixated on you, “It’s just. I don’t like how you make me feel.”

“How exactly do I make you feel, Y/n?” His eyes travel down, “...I know I make you mad.”

“I’m mad because of the way you make me feel, Thorpe. You walk around like you’re some enigmatic being with all the substance and deep personality in the world. You’re always in thought. Maybe that’s why you do better than me.” You sigh, “I can’t focus right. Probably...probably because I’m always thinking about you.”

Even though for once you’re not yelling at him, Xavier listens to you with genuine interest. You didn’t even know that was possible, frankly, neither did he.

You turn your head up to meet his gaze when you realize he hasn’t said anything all this time. “Xavier?” You say softly, “Why did you kiss me?”

He sways back, draping his hand over yours, “You looked like you needed to be kissed. Maybe that’s why. But it seems like no matter what answer I’ll give you, you’re not going to be happy,” he says, pressing his thumb softly into your knuckles, “And all I want is for you to be happy. At least with me.”

This time, you don’t shy away from his touch. There’s not an ounce of nervousness. In place of it, your body acts on its own and you bend more towards him.

“Can I ask a question this time?” Xavier speaks slow and cohesively, “If that’s ok?”

You’re not sure why, but his question intrigued you. What did he have to ask? What more was he confused about? You stop yourself when you realize that these may be questions running through Xavier’s head when he looks at you. When he looks at you, huh, the look on his face makes your ears heat up and your heart skip two beats at once. Of course, scientifically that impossible, but Xavier makes facts feel wrong in your mind. Just like how it was a fact you hated him. Or it was a fact he wanted to be better than you for the sole purpose of humiliating you. Just as those were shot down and proven to be wrong, so have your previous feelings, now shedding new light onto the hidden ones you've kept locked away.

You could feel his smug face staring down at you, as you wait silently for the question.

“How exactly do you feel about me?” The question falls from his lips, the same lips that’d kissed you speechless earlier today, “Because when I look at you, I can feel you hate me, but you said that’s wrong. I don’t know what’s right and wrong when I’m with you. Usually I’d want this to end but, I just want to know, Y/n.”

How you feel? About him? Your eyes trip into his inescapable stare and suddenly you feel your throat start to close. Of course, you didn't want to leave him short or even worse, assuming your feelings towards him because anything that isn't what you say is wrong and you need to communicate that with him but you just can’t. It’s so easy just to swallow your pride and talk, but every second of silence jabs the knife of uncertainty deeper and deeper.

But you have to say something.

“Xavier—”

“Y/n—” Suddenly, he interrupts. Not intentionally, but because you were silent for so long.

Maybe you and him aren't so different after all.

Xavier’s quick to apologize, but you're faster. “Sorry, go ahead.” The heat on your face only grows hotter so you're forced to pull the collar of your shirt away from your skin.

“No, it’s ok, I was just going to say something stupid.” He shakes his head, causing his long hair to sweep along his perfectly cut jaw, “Go on.”

You roll your shoulders back and inhale sharply, “We both know I don’t like being second best—”

“Obviously.”

You glare at Xavier.

“Right, sorry.”

“And we both know that that obviously has been happening—”

“Not intentionally.”

“XAVIER.” Your rival laughs at your temper, only for you to grind your teeth together in frustration, “I’m trying to tell you how I feel about you—like you ASKED—but you keep interrupting me! PLEASE! Be quiet!”

He chuckles a bit before nodding, “Yes ma’am.”

You decide to ignore that. For now at least. Instead, your nervousness returns now that the uncomfortable silence has returned, but at least you have the spotlight now. An ache in your chest spirals into your stomach as the thought of ‘now or never’ finally settled in. If telling Xavier how you really felt all this time would mean relief from all the negativity bottled up inside you, self loathing tendencies and being the human embodiment of a locked box with no key, you were willing to take the risk of him making any comments towards you.

Reaching out, you take your finger and place it on top of his as a sort of reassurance that everything will be ok if you know this moment is real. He glances at your small gesture, his lips cracking into an unnoticed smirk, and curls his slender finger under yours, hugging it almost.

"I guess there’s no better way to say that...I return your feelings. It’s ironic too because, for all the time we spend together, even if it’s not quality time or anything, I like it. I like it a lot. You actually make what I do fun, I realize that now.” The words become even easier to say, “No matter how much I push you away, it makes you ten times stronger. And I don't think I want to let that go. What I’m trying to get at is I like having you around. I don’t know if it’s your presence, or just you in general, but I don’t want to let go of it any time soon.” It takes another moment before you finally say, “I like you back, Xavier.”

Silence, again. That was...something.

Almost as if the quietness wasn't deafening enough, a small chuckle breaks it and somehow makes the whole situation all the more unbearable.

“What?” Your voice is exasperated, “Why are you laughing?”

“I’m not laughing at you,” He smiles and cuts his hair down the middle, allowing it to fall from each side loosely, “You know you do this thing where when you're talking, you kinda,” he swerves his wrist in a circle and motions in front of his face, “I don't know how to explain it, but it’s really cute.”

His smugness is infectious. Like a virus, it travels into your system and makes you avert your eyes to wherever he isn't looking to distract yourself from the overwhelming palpitations your heart is running. “Hey,” his deep voice speaks, somehow closer to you now, “Is there maybe something else you want to tell me?” Xavier mutters.

“Actually, yeah.” You nod, enveloping your other hand over your ear and looking to the other side of him for a brief moment, “I want you to give me another answer.”

“To what question?”

“My feelings.” You whisper comfortably, “Not like last time. Not as a distraction. As a real thing.”

“Are you sure?” Xavier whispers too kneading his hand into yours, “Like, you want me to kiss you again?”

You feel like the breath is knocked from your lungs when you nod your head, “Please.”

He hesitates a little before bringing his cold palm directly to your collarbone, using his thumb to lead his movements to where he wants it to be. The gentleness of his touch makes you even weaker than before. Just barely, the tip of his thumb stretches the corner of your lip, bouncing it back into place when he feels like he’s satisfied. Little touches like that make your head reel. You don't even care that you want to ask how he knows all the right places to touch you, you just close your eyes and let him. Before you know it, that crashing sensation returns. Fuck, have you missed it.

Very quickly, Xavier feels a jolt hit your body as it tenses against his grasp, but as quick as it came, it leaves and you give in. An arm wraps around you, catching your waist and pulling you closer to him, his unoccupied hand rubbing slow and small circles on your back smoothly while he takes the bottom of your lip and nods deeper into your mouth. He’s in no hurry to do anything more, but you can tell he wants to stay here with you for hours. It’s all easily told with his not so secret grabbing and pulling that in this moment, you're all he wants.

There’s something surprisingly methodical, coming from him, in the way he takes in your lip, sucking gently on the pliant skin, then scrunching your hair in between the spaces of his fingers. There’s one spot his touch lingers on though, the nape of your neck. The spot, with an ache for much needed attention, makes you squirm into him when he runs his thumb over it accidentally—almost like a sweet spot of yours Xavier was sure to abuse in the future.

You don't notice it at first, but eventually you realize that through the total mind fuzziness of when he kisses you, you've both ended up further up than you were when you first started on his bed. The way time passes doesn't seem real, kissing him feels like nothing else matters in the world. In fact, being around him, in his dorm room, and just looking at him was all it took for you to forget about everything.

When he eventually pulls back, his body lifting away from you—a second of fleeting panic shoots through your chest at the sudden space between you both. By the solemn expression on his face, eyes hooded with pure relaxation and satisfaction, he can tell you enjoyed the kiss a little more than you should've.

“So, does this mean that I can take you out on a proper date now?” He mutters against your lips, “Because I’ve been having these dreams of taking you to this place out in town. You know,” Xavier kisses his teeth, “Gotta listen to the dreams, Y/n.”

His smugness is now just laughable, so you give in and throw your head back chuckling, “Let’s listen to them then. I’m free tomorrow?”

“So am I.” He leans back in and gives you another soft, quick kiss but instead of pulling away this time, he remains close to your face, his fingers interlocked with yours, “I’m really glad we figured this out, Y/n.”

“Me too.” Your chest flutters.

No one told you how to feel after your first kiss with your sworn academic rival. There were no rules to base your feelings on and there was certainly no expectations to meet up to. But you weren't confused anymore, that was the more important issue. Your head is clear as it’s ever been. Thanks to him, Xavier made that all possible.

[kory-dany]

In defense of Charlotte as a mother

Quick disclaimer this post is not trying to undermine charlottegeorge's (we seriously need to come up with a better ship name) children's feelings towards their mother. Although we know very little about them, it's obvious their relationship with Charlotte isn't perfect, but if I'm being honest, I'm tired of this narrative that she was an awful mother. I 100% agree that she wasn't the best mother (tbh, none of the Bridgerton mothers are. That's what makes the show interesting), but people keep suggesting that she's Augusta-level bad, and that's just not true.

Firstly, everyone keeps forgetting that Lottie lost her parents when she was young, which suggests she didn't have a motherly presence for at least half her life. Secondly, she was eighteen when she had her first child. Eighteen and her strongest examples of motherhood were probably Agatha and Augusta (both, again, arguably not the most amazing mothers). Thirdly, she had fifteen kids. FIFTEEN!! Thirteen (twelve???) surviving, I'm not saying she didn't love them equally, but that's a lot of kids to get to know.

My main argument, however, is that Charlotte probably was not the best mother, and she probably did focus more on being queen and protecting George — which I would argue was also protecting her children. However, she is not Augutsa 2.0 (who, even though not the best mother did try).

Charlotte had twelve (thirteen, idk any more consistency is not this shows strength) surviving children, and it seemed that, for the most part, she let them do whatever they wanted. Unlike Augusta, who tried to control every aspect of George's life, she let her sons whore about (her words, not mine), and she clearly didn't meddle too much in her daughter's love lives. It's only until the very last minute that she inserts herself into their affairs.

At first, it was just her telling them to marry suitable people and produce an heir. She still allowed them to marry who they liked, just as long as they were from a specific pool. And if I'm being honest, that pool wasn't that small; they literally had all of Europe. One of them could have found someone if they had tried. But alas, they didn't which forced Charlotte's hand, leading to arranged marriages.

I think none of them really took her command of marriage seriously because none of them, outside of George probably, knows what responsibility is. Yes, we know that her daughters stayed because they couldn't bare to see their mother remain stuck in time. However, Charlotte did what Augusta couldn't. She didn't let the weight and responsibility of the crown break her children. To her, she was a good mother because she gave them freedom — freedom George never had — she let them have affairs and stay unmarried because she refused to put pressure on them the way Augusta and everyone else did on George.

Her children didn't crack under the crown's weight because she did. Charlotte had two choices: be the best queen or be the best mother. I think she chose the option that made the most sense to her. By being the best queen (George's queen), George had someone on his side, the kingdom had stability, AND her children got to live their lives.

Charlotte had so much responsibility from such a young age; is it really shocking that she couldn't juggle it all? Furthermore, people keep acting like she didn't love her kids, but she clearly did. She was very much pained when Elizabeth confessed her miscarriages, she was gentle with William when he admitted he was scared, and she was ecstatic when Edward announced Victoria's pregnancy. She didn't even care that they thought it would be a girl.

Overall, Charlotte is not a perfect mother, but none of the Bridgerton mothers are (not even Violet). All the mothers in this world are just women who tried their best. And as much as their best may not have been enough, it's all they had. Bridgerton does this brilliant thing, highlighting the toxic cycle that occurs when child-baring is a societal expectation, even in relationships made from love and children produced by autonomy. Charlotte's story is just another example.

[dolphin1812]

Out of everything in today’s chapter, I was most intrigued by the “harlequin convent.” While it is reassuring to know that nuns whose orders were destroyed have a place to stay, Hugo allows them space for their tragedy. He describes them as “relics,” implying that they no longer have a place in the world, and in a way, that’s true. As we’ve seen from the nuns of the Petit-Picpus convent, their lives revolve around the strictures of their order and the other nuns; these nuns, who are completely separate from their order and their fellows, have none of that. Instead, “each followed her own rule” individually, not having anyone to share in these practices with her. The Petit-Picpus convent is scarily strict, but the nuns do have each other (and their pupils); conversely, these nuns may not be as strict, but their lives are very lonely.

In addition to tying them to the past, the term “relics” renders them objects. This idea is repeated again when they’re described as “souvenirs” for the students. Without the context of their orders, these nuns aren’t seen to fully exist as people, even though they’re still alive and are carrying out their practices to the best of their abilities.

“Relic” is also interesting because we typically associate it with something very old, often from antiquity. The orders of the ancien régime are so recent that these nuns are still alive (with it being implied that many died during the Revolution, not just of age or sickness). Labeling them “relics” distances France’s monarchical, absolutist past, as well as France’s Revolutionary past, from its present, even though we know that the Bourbons drew on both of these, at least in theory (a return to monarchy, but with the idea that citizens had rights). These nuns haven’t been abandoned, exactly. The state pays for their care. Still, their marginalization and consignment to the past speak to a desire to utilize only the convenient parts of France’s history (”the monarchy will bring stability! But don’t worry, this isn’t old-fashioned absolutism, there’s a charter!”) while ignoring (and even hiding - this is the least accessible convent) those that are more complicated.

The contrast between the nuns and the noblewomen is fascinating as well. On the one hand, the convent likely genuinely serves a purpose for elderly nobles with no other place to retire. On the other, nobles have much more flexibility than the nuns, and not just because of their practices. Madame de Genlis, for instance, was able to leave for the seemingly trivial reason that “there was no shade in the garden,” underscoring that her presence in the convent was a choice. The nuns had no alternative. Their orders have been destroyed, and they may not have had families outside of the Church. While Mme de Genlis could be an exception, it seems that even the convent isn’t immune to status, with rank influencing who can get in and out. This is especially notable with how difficult it is to do so; Hugo reminds us of this by telling us how distanced the nuns are from the public even in the church. The church itself isn’t particularly welcoming, either, with its entrance for the public resembling that of a “lazaretto,” as if the public were possibly diseased and in need of quarantine. Overall, the convent is a shelter for them all, but the divisions of the “outside world” are still evident in their circumstances.

[nzvalley]

“Shockwave” Novelization Readthrough

I picked up the novelization of the Season 1 Finale, “Shockwave,” written by Paul Ruditis- who wrote the behind-the-scenes portion of the “Broken Bow” novelization. Comparing it to the premiere novelization, which I reviewed previously, it was fun but not nearly as important as Broken Bow. And no behind the scenes for this one. It seems like the writing was on the wall that there would be no more novelizations. The writing is much more routine. Paul Ruditis nowhere near the quality of writer as Diane Carey. And pilots are more character driven in general, while finales are more plot driven. Plus there were so many introductions and first moments in the pilot, which added a level of interest. But there are still some interesting insights and great moments in this novelization, particularly surrounding T’Pol’s growth over Season 1, the crew’s acceptance of her, and the deepening of the relationship between Archer and T’Pol. The moment at the end of the episode between Archer and T’Pol is among their most shippy of the entire series.

Overall there’s a lot of fun time travel stuff, and the beginning of a lot of inside jokes for T’Pol and Archer. While this episode is plot heavy, it does has its character moments, especially for T’Pol as she finally openly and publicly supports and defends Archer and his mission. She also gets to see the despairing side of human nature, which Vulcans in general seem to overlook. The stereotype about humans is their gregariousness, their sunniness, their impulsiveness and determination- seeing them give up en masse is a shock to T’Pol. One additional benefit of this novelization is that there are flashbacks to other episodes, which become sort of mini-novelizations of those episodes. We get some good Mayweather insight, as he flashes back to lessons he learned in an earlier episode (48). We also get a long, look into the life and personality of Admiral Forrest, who gets entire sections devoted to his perspective and even an epilogue all of his own, which are entirely absent from the aired episode. We even see a scene of Forrest and Soval arguing (149).

I’ll run down some of the highlights and moments that stuck out for me. Early on, Archer reflects on the changes T’Pol has gone through and the changes she has brought about in him.  

“With every passing day she seemed to be better ingratiating herself into the crew and even developing a rather dry sense of humor. That’s not to say that the crew was entirely at ease with the Vulcan science officer, but things were definitely getting better. Archer felt that the close Vulcan/human interaction was having a positive effect on T’Pol. The way she regarded humans had changed dramatically since her first days on the ship. In much the same way, Archer knew that she had been changing his opinion toward Vulcans on the whole. Her calm, steady manner often provided the stability he needed in extreme situations, and her mere presence on his ship helped him better understand some of the misconceptions he had concerning her race.”  (12)

After the accident that destroys the colony on Paraagan II, T’Pol contemplates the reaction of the crew and Archer’s despair.

“Even finding herself alone in the corridor, she could still feel the mental turmoil of the crew assaulting her senses… In these situations she had learned to rely on the captains ability to deal with his human crew and provide the stability they required. This time, however, it seemed likely that his behavior was not going to help, and she might have to step in to maintain control. It was not a pleasant concept.” (33)

In her confusion, she seeks out Phlox to discuss Archer’s emotional state.

“His behavior has been… erratic. He seems to alternate between agitation, despondency, and guilt. He spends most of his time alone. I’ve tried to remind him that this was an accident, but his response have been illogical.”  (34-35)

Phlox says that it would be unnatural for Archer not to be affected by grief, and that he’ll be fine.

T'Pol notices the anger shift to melancholy among the crew. She finds their despair, their giving up, unsettling. She yearns for Archer to improve and for a return to normalcy.

“Nevertheless, when Reed summoned T’Pol to the launch bay long after the day shift had ended, the Vulcan was surprised to find herself hurrying. Reed had not told her what was so urgent that it required her presence, and her systematic mind refrained from making guesses, but somehow getting to the launch bay quickly seemed… logical.” (51)

There’s a great Archer/T’Pol scene, when she tries to cheer him up/shake him out of his mood. T’Pol is now one of his most trusted confidantes and one of the only people who can turn him around in this way.

“Is this what humans refer to as ‘feeling sorry for themselves’?” (53).  

T’Pol shows a respect for Archer and his mission that he himself has lost in his despair, and she ultimately suggests a commitment to the mission that shakes Archer out of his despondency.

“You were very adept at listing the questionable decisions you’ve made, she reminded him of their earlier conversation. “But there have been other decisions- many of them- that no one would question… I’m willing to try to convince my government of that. Are you willing to try to convince yours?” (54)

When T’Pol has finally improved his mood, Archer comments on the irony of a Vulcan navigating a human’s emotions and engaging in emotional support.

“You know, this has got to be the first time a Vulcan has ever attempted to cheer up a human.” (55)

I’m skipping most of the plot, as the relationship and rapport between T’Pol and Archer is really the highlight of this. There’s some great banter between the two, and the establishment of time travel inside jokes that get called back to throughout the rest of the series.

“Captain. May I ask what is so important that it couldn’t wait until morning?” He knew she was throwing his own words back at him. “I’ve stopped feeling sorry for myself,” he cryptically replied as the turbolift opened on the bridge. (84)

Archer needs T’Pol’s skepticism to a point, but also needs her belief. The scene where Archer fully briefs T’Pol on his time travel adventure further reinforces how important she has become to his professional and personal life. He needs her support as a Science Officer and second-in-command, but he also needs her to support him emotionally as she did earlier.

“Listen, I never thought this was possible, either. But I traveled through time and I need you to believe me.” “Why?”...   “Because it’s hard enough trying to fathom all this without having my science officer… a colleague I trust and rely on… the person who got me to stop feeling sorry for myself… accusing me of being a hallucinating madman.” (118)

An even bigger sign of how far they’ve come is when Archer leaves and places T’Pol in command.

“Try to keep an open mind. He forced a small smile. “Especially when it comes to things the Vulcan Science Directorate says are impossible.” They held a long look. “I will try,” she replied, and eh knew she meant it. (123)

And when he ruminates on her as he heads to whatever fate awaits him.

“He stood motionless as the turbolift began its descent, thinking back to the first time T’Pol had taken command of Enterprise… No one in the crew had trusted her, not even himself. Now he couldn’t imagine a more suitable member of the crew to leave in charge. At least that was a small consolation as he went to meet whatever it was his fate held.” (124)

T’Pol is tortured (173) and interrogated about Archer’s location and time travel in general. While Archer is in stranded in the future, he contemplates his fears and regrets regarding Trip, Hoshi, and ultimately T’Pol.

“What will happen to T’Pol when she goes back to Vulcan? Will she forget all that she’s learned about humanity?” (176)

After T’Pol is tortured and returned to her quarters, her delirious thoughts reveal hints at some of the emotions lurking beneath her usual firm control. This is especially exacerbated when Archer contacts her through an improvised technology from the future.

“Someone was speaking to her. The flickering image on the ceiling continued to sharpen. It was beginning to look familiar to her. The voice, she remembered, was that of a friend. Jonathan Archer’s face hovered above her… T’Pol stared at the strange, swirling image. Her mind was clear enough to worry about the fact that she was hallucinating. The concerns that she had for the captain’s safety had obviously manifested into the vision above her… Archer’s image seemed to turn away from her. Where are you going? She thought.” (188).

I especially like that last moment, when she becomes distressed at Archer leaving again. Her admission that she is concerned about his safety, and the explicit admission that she considers Archer a friend are also great. In her distressed and vulnerable state, she even gets a little pouty before pulling herself together.  

“She continued to stare at his image, focusing on Archer’s increasingly familiar features as she tried to orient herself to what was occurring… ‘The Science Vulcan Directorate has determined that time travel is… not fair.’” (189)

When they are finally reunited and Archer’s safety is confirmed, this emotionalism reaches its pinnacle for this episode and T’Pol’s stoic facade actually cracks a little.

“Request permission to dock,” Archer lightly asked. “Permission granted,” T’Pol replied, finally allowing almost the smallest hint of a smile as her lips curled up slightly at the edges. (229)

And then their trust and growing partnership reaches the apogee of her first season growth and increasing affinity for humankind when T’Pol comes to Archer’s defense and backs him up.

She exchanged a brief glance with the Captain. I think we’ve come pretty far in under one year, Archer thought to himself with a barely perceptible smile. He tried to lend her his strength from across the room. “Their mission should be allowed to continue,” she quietly added, doing the unthinkable in contradicting the ambassador’s decision. (235)

Archer turned to his crew with a glance that told them he was appreciative of their support. He finally settled on T’Pol with a combination of shock and pride in his eyes. She met his stare and the two shared a silent moment that almost bordered on emotion. (235)

Later, Archer gets good news and shares it with T’Pol in his bed clothes, which is the second time Archer contacts her in her quarters. Their entire conversation is shippy and playful, rife with trust and banter that has grown between them in their first year together.

“I can't be certain, but Crewman Fuller might have seen me coming in here.” “She tends to be discreet,” T’Pol said, surprisingly playing along. Archer sat beside her on the bed. “I think you put it over the top.”(238)

There was a definite moment between them as T’Pol realized their mission together would continue. Her evening meditation had been to help her accept the fact that she had gone against the wishes of her superiors. Although she was well aware that the end result did not really provide justification for her actions, it did help her find a bit of contentment.            Archer was fairly sure he understood the conflict going on in T’Pol’s mind. He decided it would be best to leave her to her thoughts. With a nod of appreciation, he got up and went for the door.            “I still don’t believe in time travel,” T’Pol announced.            Archer couldn’t help but smile. “The hell you don’t.” (239)

Love them! Although it was a slow burn, their development over the first season which culminates here sets up the huge leaps of character and relationship growth that come throughout season 2.

[heimdallsram]

━━━━ masterlist. soundtrack. archive of our own. taglist.

title: perennial

pairing: heimdall x female! goddess! reader

"You were a goddess of oaths and vows. It was only fitting that Odin would bind you to his service in only the most ironic way that he knew how: marriage."

this fanfiction contains the following: domestic violence, blood, gore, choking, violent sexual content, bad BDSM etiquette, non-consensual somnophilia, blood drinking, unhealthy relationships, and much more content that may be sensitive to some readers. reader discretion is advised.

*for inquiries about the taglist, please dm me and i will add you to it.

"My name is Inkeri.”

  You had first met one of your past incarnations in your memories—not your dreams, as Odin would, at times, so eloquently assume. You had not dreamed without your past selves present since you were a young girl just learning your strength, your passions. It was as if you had a host of other presences in your mind, constantly vying for your attention in one way or another, offering advice, leisure, company, and companionship. But none were so adept at earning your gaze as Inkeri, the first Var goddess to be born in Vanaheim and not Midgard as was tradition.

 She was a beautiful woman, even if memories faded with time. While the gold of her jewelry and weaponry was bronzed and aged, her hair still glowed like the palest of snow and her eyes were greener than the grasses outside of Asgard’s towering walls. Her skin was a burnt umber, attesting to time spent under the sun, and dotted with freckles and sun spots that did not detract from her overall appearance in the slightest. Her nose was turned slightly to the right from repeated fractures and breaks; her neck a smidge too long for her broad frame; and her eyelashes, strangely, were charcoal black instead of the wintry hues the braided length of hair down her back held.

 Each time she would appear to you she would be dressed in a different gown, each one more plain, more humble than the last. There would, however, always be some form of jewelry clasped around her neck, hips, or wrists that sparkled with soundstone, a silent promise to whoever had gifted them to her. Such fine metal work was not cheap, nor was it easy to come by.

 “Your mind is a mess,” Inkeri had laughed. When she saw the confused look on your face, the way your brows furrowed as you took her in, she smiled, and wrinkles formed at the corners of her eyes and mouth. A happy woman, young, but aged too much to be innocent to the horrors of the world. “Let me help you, little one.”

 And so, every night since, your previous selves would aid you in making something comprehensible of the absolute chaos your emotions wrought on your mental state. Some would do it for you entirely, their abilities still somehow able to shine through your own, and weave stability and ease into your mind where it would not dislodge so easily in the face of panic, fear, stress, worry. Others would speak to you as if you were their daughter or niece or friend, but Inkeri treated you as if you were an equal—someone that was deserving of her respect and time. You liked that, feeling… equal when all you felt around the other gods was inferior. Weak. Undeserving. An outsider.

  Tonight, Inkeri was alone. None of your other incarnations had deigned it proper to visit you, or perhaps they had not felt it right to intervene at all. Her appearance had changed, once again, and she was no longer in the dress she had worn the last time you had seen her. Instead she was clad in a rough woven dress shorn up to the knees, barefoot, her hair knotted and wild upon her head. But where her skin had once been unblemished, scars now marred the entirety of the flesh you could see, all over her arms and neck and face and legs and feet. They were grisly, some scarred and some not, some burnt with Bifrost and some still weeping freely upon the metaphysical plane of your mind space.

  “Do not panic,” Inkeri said, raising a hand to soothe you when you opened your mouth to speak. She did not appear in anguish or pain despite her wounds. In fact, she appeared almost at peace, serene. “It is the natural progression of memory. This is how I looked a few years before I was… Well. Taken prisoner, in a sense.”

 The woman was careful as she approached, sliding her arms around your shoulders in greeting. It was a hug, but not any sort of hug that you could feel. It was a whisper of air and nothing more. You leaned into her and tried to push down the thoughts burning in your mind, only one floating out into the open.

  “You are going to leave me soon.”

  “Yes.” Inkeri, named for her beauty and grace, smiled, sad and honest. “Like all those before you, I must leave you as you progress into your power. Today was one such stumble that you corrected. I am proud of you, my dear.”

 Briefly, your mind flitted back to the way you had snipped out pieces of the vows belonging to Thor and his daughter. You had not been able to do that before without inspiring suspicion or anger, even though those that you had tried to extend those abilities on were confused why they had felt such in the first place. You had pushed yourself to do more, to try more—something you rarely did with Odin breathing down your neck as he was.

 It was an inevitable thing, the… passing of your past selves. Each one was like losing a member of your family, of which you had none save for these incarnations, or a close friend. It made your heart ache, your soul tremble, every time one of them would fade into nonexistence, waiting for the birth of a new Var goddess to cement themselves into the present mind once more. Some of them were easier to take, like those who did not—could not—speak at all, time having ravaged their memories long before Inkeri had been born some thousands of years ago. Others devastated you… like Inkeri’s would devastate you, when it happened.

 Sometime in the future, you would be terribly, horribly alone. But tonight was not that time.

 “It felt less like a stumble and more of a fall,” you mumbled in reply. The fatigue and sluggishness followed you into this landscape of thoughts, dreams, and memories no matter what you tried to do to leave it in your body where it resided. You pulled away from Inkeri to sit on the white wooden flooring that had materialized as soon as you wished to sit down. “What am I supposed to do here, other than kill those who break their oaths and… interfere with others’ vows? I can’t be all that useless, Inkeri.”

 Her answering laugh was loud and bellowing, something that did not seem possible out of such a tiny woman. Her four foot ten frame shook with it. “Ha! Useless? Do not jest with me, girl. We Var are never useless when wielded by the right hand.”

 And Odin, you knew, was very much the wrong one.

 When Inkeri quieted, she was more thoughtful, though amusement still sparkled in her sage green eyes. “Well, now. I know you do not think yourself the entertainer, dear, but that was quite amusing. You are never useless even in idleness. You are always watching, observing, caring; there is nothing that is not useful in that, no? You are young, fresh with immortality. Use that, if it worries you. We are all memories destined to fade. You will not until it is your time, and it is not any time soon.”

 It was not any more reassuring than the other times she had told you, but you nodded in understanding as you always did.

 “On a more serious note,” she interrupted before you could think to find something to say,”you are to be married soon. Your thoughts lie, do they not?”

 You sighed heavily and averted your gaze from her. “They do not. I am to be married in five days, give or take a few hours.”

  “Odin and his schemes.” Inkeri’s scowl was ferocious. She did not lower herself to sit with her legs sprawled as you were and folded her knees under herself, tucking the awful dress around her thighs casually. “I had thought he would die by now. Of course, I am always mistaken. Ragnarök has not come yet.”

 You gave a wry smile. “His former wife, Queen Freya, got very close to killing him.”

 “I always knew it would be one of his toys that would try to do it, one day.”

 Together, you settled into an amiable silence, friendly and warm. It was nothing like the chilled dinners that Odin forced you to sit in on with the rest of his family. Sif, at least, tried to make conversation with you despite your uncomfortable mood, and you would swap food or stories through the night while the men laughed and drank and, in Odin’s case, spoke about battle plans. You were largely ignored during these dinners and that made you feel cold inside, like a spark was missing.

 “Heimdall,” you began slowly, hesitant to break the quiet. Inkeri’s eyes followed you as you sat up, crossing your legs in a more ladylike manner. “Do—do the others have any memories of him? What he’s… like?”

 “Your betrothed,” Inkeri inferred seamlessly. She nodded and beckoned to something in the distance: a fledgling memory. “Yes, one of the other incarnations has a few memories of him. She was deaf, however, so I cannot attest to the words said, but she gestures that he is arrogant, full of himself—ah, a little shit, I apologize for that mistranslation—a flying sack of… Oh my. Well, there is all of that; but she does say that he prefers the animals more than people because they do not lie. Or deceive? I am unsure what she means completely.”

 You watched the memories unfold before your eyes as Inkeri spoke. It was never not strange to watch through the eyes of others, even moreso when you were watching those you recognized through a body you were not familiar with. Heimdall flashed through her periphery at times, walking past, or she would observe from far off and turn her attention to more important matters. She never lingered on him, as if he disinterested her, and focused on appearing as a Midgardian woman with exceptional sigil work.

 None of these were particularly helpful to you, but you were grateful for them at least trying. You knew more about Heimdall than any of them, save the animal thing, through the barest expressions you had glimpsed. Insecure was a thought that came to you almost immediately. Without Odin, who was Heimdall? His vows centered around him entirely, like a well made cage of loyalty and pride.

 “He is dangerous,” your friend whispered when the memory eventually collapsed into the back of your mind. “So, so dangerous. That kind of loyalty does not come cheaply… or without cause.”

 “I know.” You brought your hand to your mouth and pressed your fingers to your lips hard. “I… am lost at what to do. Odin will never let me be in charge of my own vows, and Heimdall will most certainly trust him to make them. Of that I am sure. I cannot think of a way to salvage this in my favor, even with the shield around my thoughts.”

 Inkeri hummed. “I see, I see. I understand. Odin is crafty, the bastard, and he knows some things about your power. But he does not know everything, and that will work on your behalf. If he cannot specify the exact thing he wants to keep or force you to avow to, he will have to resort to vague ideas and theories. The most damage he can do to you is through Heimdall; you will have to share a room, a bed, a life. That is torture of the highest regard to a Var goddess.”

 “To share love, honesty, warmth with another is our shame.” The voice was quiet, soft, but tinkled like chimes in the wind. A woman appeared from the vast nothingness of white, clad in an ornate set of armor, with gorgeous wings curled around her shoulders. A Valkyrie. “Hello, little one. We have not met, yet.”

 “This is Siv,” the white haired woman introduced, waving her hand towards the other woman. “She’s the previous incarnation before Embla, I believe. So, around six hundred and thirty-two years before you, yes?”

 Siv smiled and it was not warm, but feral, savage. “You are correct. Inkeri thought I would be best to advise you in this way, as I have loved more than my fair share—and found myself in a similar situation.”

 “Siv, before she was a Valkyrie, was a lover of Odin’s.” At your surprised look, the winged lady laughed, and hers was much more spine tingling than Inkeri’s. Yet the older woman continued on, settling her hands on your shoulders encouragingly. “Don’t worry, she won’t bite. She’ll be able to help you quite a bit, I think.”

 “I will do my best.” Those great wings relaxed. “But it is time for you to wake. I will be here to greet you upon your return.”

 Inkeri released your shoulders and joined her side. “As will I. I have some time before I am due to leave you, my dear, so I will remain until then. Go, join the waking world. Eat, drink. Then I want you to think about what has been spoken here.”

 There was no calmness when your mind returned to your body. It was a rush of pure energy, always, and each time your eyes would open wide before they settled into sleepy recognition. Your bed would always feel the same, your fur blankets were as soft as they ever were, and other than the tunic you had worn to bed to beat out the chill, you woke as you did any other day.

 You rubbed your eyes free of crusted sleep as you sat up, your tunic falling open all the way to the waist. It was one of the few that you had left unmended, likely because the openness felt more soothing than the scratchy material, and the buttons had long since scattered to the crevices and holes in the floorboards. You tugged your hair up and over your shoulder to rest against your back, kicking the furs to the foot of the bed to be made later. You made to rise, one foot on the floor and the other curled underneath you, when you heard a shuffle.

 Breath freezing in your chest, your eyes shot to your bedroom door on instinct. Locked. Yet there was no relief to be had as the shuffling continued, followed by a dark chuckle, and you dragged your eyes away from the door to settle on a pair of boots propped up on your foot board. They were pristine, as if they had never trudged through mud, grass, or on stone. You followed the boots up and up and up until you settled on the pair of eyes that seemed to haunt your thoughts almost daily now, only to find they were obscured by a knife and apple, carefully being whittled free of the skin.

 Each curl of shining red dropped to the floor carelessly.

 “The traitorous bitch wakes,” Heimdall noted, a vicious streak in  his voice. “I almost thought you were dead, given how you continued to sleep with how… exploratory I’ve been during your slumber.”

 Something in your gut told you he had not done anything other than sit and wait for you to open your eyes. You ignored it and mentally checked over your body and found nothing except the previous day’s exhaustion. There was nothing about him you could trust except to act in Odin’s favor.

 At the moment, you were unsure if that favor was being kind to you.

 “What do you want?” Your voice was still edged with sleep. “What has possessed you to infiltrate my rooms like this that is so important?”

 Sleep, also, made you daring. If you had been of more sound mind, you would have bolted for the door.

 He carved a slice of apple free from the core and, using the knife, brought it to his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully, eyes narrowed in delighted glee the more irritated you grew, and sighed as if the mere task of speaking tired him. “Ah, that. Well, while you slept, the All-Father had a brilliant idea.”

 There was a growing sense of dread pooling in your gut. Alarm bells sounded in your head, suspiciously like the horns of Svartlfheim, and you had to resist sliding your foot back under the furs and hiding under them.

 Though he was acting as carefree as a bird, you could see there was a burning rage underneath, seeping into the narrowing of his eyes, the furrow of his brow, and the brutality in the way he was cutting up the apple in his hands. Then, as if he had decided something, he laid the apple slices down and fixed you with a stare that made your very soul shudder.

  “He thought ‘Perhaps  a fortnight is too long of a wait.’ He thought ‘Perhaps, it would be wiser to take things a little faster, more up to speed.’” Heimdall’s mouth curled into a scowl as he stood. The knife shone in the morning light as he made his way around the side of the bed. “’Perhaps. Perhaps, they should be married today, right after the dinner bell rings.’”

 “No,” you choked. All of the blood drained from your face. It wasn't supposed to be this soon. You still needed to prepare, to, to... “Oh, Gods, no—“

 A hand shot out and closed around your throat. Squeezing, prying at the veins that pushed a horrified blush of exertion up your neck and cheeks. His fingers were tight, cutting off your air, and he leaned impossibly close, his nose and lips brushing yours with only a hair between. “I wondered what gave him that idea. I did, you know; and I could only come up with one answer. You, you ridiculously deceitful little cunt.”

 You struggled to speak through your closed throat, reaching up and clawing at his wrist. Each flail you gave inched you closer to having your back on your bed and Heimdall above you, more leverage at his behest. “I—Fhhr—“

 Spit rolled out of the corner of your mouth and onto the back of his hand. His face screwed up in disgust.

 “Fucking filthy. I should cut your tongue from your mouth and see if you may spit on me then.”

 The way he was speaking to you made you feel awful, the worst you had felt in a long time. You could feel the insecurity, the shame, crawling up your stomach like a malignant wraith seeking to drown you in endless shadow. His hand around your throat only seemed to make it worse, squeezing the life out of you, and darkness started to dot at the edges of your vision.

  “Oh?” He sounded so pleased. “Losing consciousness, are you? We can’t have that, we still have so much to discuss… wife.”

  Heimdall punctuated the slur of a title by releasing you. Your head hit the headboard with a crack and you were only able to glimpse the exasperation on his face before you succumbed to the black that beckoned you.

 “Oh, lovely.”

| next.

[beedreamscape]

MY REVIEW/THOUGHTS ON NONA THE NINTH WITH SPOILERS

I'll shamefully (not really) admit I much preferred John's sections of the book to Nona's.

Maybe is my hard time connecting to children or just the meandering aspect of their day-to-day life (I didn't know the book took place over a single week, I thought it was much longer) but most of the book is a lot of nothing but recounting things that have already happened and details that won't matter much in the future. There's little in that planet for us plotwise and, IMO, I don't care for the people there at all.

I just feel this should've been a novella instead of a full-on novel and if I hadn't gotten it as an audiobook, I don't think I would've finished the book.

One example of the audiobook coming in handy is, if it wasn't for Moira's unique voice for each of the kids (which was annoying little voices, I'll admit, but fair they're kids), I wouldn't have been able to tell them apart and I think we could've done with just two or three kids instead of the bunch we got. Also, all the BOE and adjacent characters did nothing for me (also Pash was given the most annoying voice ever of all time so I hated her instantly).

I won't say Nona is not an endearing character but there's only so much you can put in before it becomes overly sweet and at a certain point she wasn't doing it for me anymore and her "death" was the most interesting aspect still dragging my attention to her, I was at the edge of my seat waiting for Alecto to come out.

This paragraph of very personal opinions mind you: I didn't care for the dogs or the school or the broken down city or the kids or the teachers or WeSuffer or whatever Pyrrha was doing. And I feel like I should! but it was dragging so much and I was just here waiting for the plot to start.

My favourite character in the story this time around was Camilla n Palamedes simply because they were the most capable and most focused in the plot ahead. Also, their Steven-Universe-esque fusion struggle made me tear up more than once. Pyrrha's presence was also welcome but it never made me love her, there's still so much I'd like to know about her though.

Then there's John... even after the shitshow that was his human existence and even bigger bs as an immortal being, I'm still deeply fond of him and was counting the minutes until his chapters. It's all so honest, so close to home, so human seeing how power corrupted his sanity even if he didn't realize how it was eating at the corners of his stability. I also love peeking behind the curtains and seeing how everything came together from just a guy a poor little meow meow to a global catastrophe was very fun.

I don't want him to die but it seems like the only way for his story arc to reach catharsis is Alecto killing him and our very capable necromancers keeping the sun from exploding ig. Anyway, shallow theories, Tamsyn is anything but predictable!

And following the line of the previous novels, I didn't understand everything but I didn't have that hard a time going through it, though the politics in both John's and Nona's part were very confusing to me and by the end of her part in the planet especially, it was really losing me.

Also, the lack of necromancy outside the very very few occasions of Palamedes is felt by me at least. Even with Gideon not being a necromancer, we were surrounded by it, it was nearly a hand in the plot in the mystery. Here, there's none of it and it's heartbreaking.

In conclusion, I liked the book as a part of the overall series but considerably less than the previous two instalments. I'll be rereading the other two books in the future but I'll keep my reread of Nona to John's parts and very very end.

[variousqueerthings]

BJ being the secret prankster fills my heart with joy

he’s such a simply There person, and by that I mean he’s a stable presence that people unconsciously lean on -- especially Hawkeye of course -- and he doesn’t draw attention to himself as some pillar of goodness or anything, he just lets himself Be There for them

(interested in how Sid says he can’t quite make him out, and I wonder if there won’t be a breaking point of some kind for him to, because this show is Like That [affectionately, upset, wants to see it happen])

(I note that apart from the introduction and the “dear peggy” episode I dooon’t think he’s had a POV episode yet...... and in a lot of ways the episode where he’s writing to her is more about how he feels about and observes other characters -- but atm I also read him as the kind of character for whom observation is a really big trait and I like that about him. he sees people)

he’s doing all these pranks and it’s making Sid happy, and Radar happy, and Hawkeye happy -- I think he’s doing it to cheer up the whole camp, but I’m a biased viewer, so of course I notice Hawkeye being positively affected by it the most...

he’s definitely a slowburn (and the fact of course that almost everyone else has 3 seasons of headstart, although potter is a very easy-to-read character in comparison), and I’m still waiting to see where he’s going, and am glad he’s not being rushed

but I want to think that he’s made it his private mission to make Hawkeye smile. I’m not saying it’s technically canon, but it’s also not not canon, and due to the way the story is told, Hawkeye is the main recipient of his stability and overall There-ness. How else to describe it? The heart of it all. Hawkeye’s tether

also I love his dad-humour

[sunkenightmare]

Blog Post 3

The Parable of the Sower was an incredible read. From the very beginning, I found myself immersed in the world that Lauren inhabited. It struck me how I could draw comparisons to the city I grew up in, which is about 60 miles away from Los Angeles. Robledo, like Lauren's city, is filled with people living in fear, seeking community amidst violence and homelessness. While my city may not be suffering from droughts like Lauren's, it has its own dangers and struggles. It's actually considered the one most dangerous place in the US. Despite moments in the book that filled me with sadness and frustration, I was particularly drawn to Lauren's questioning of God, likely because I, too, grew up in a Baptist church. Her contemplation of why the universe exists to shape God and why God exists to shape the universe resonated with me. It seems that everyone's belief system regarding God ultimately serves the purpose of providing security in the face of the unknown. Religion becomes a preference, offering a sense of direction and purpose.

One moment in the book that deeply affected me was Lauren's brother, Keith, and his path of retaliation. It was fascinating to witness his transformation, as earlier chapters depicted him as curious about guns and eager to grow up. However, observing his family's struggles and the harsh environment around him shaped his notions of survival. The loss of innocence and the responsibility he felt to take care of his mother, regardless of the means, were profound themes to explore. A chilling conversation between Lauren and Keith about his willingness to do whatever it takes to get money left a lasting impact. Keith's worldview was rooted in the idea of acquiring things by any means necessary, showing no remorse for the man he killed or the possessions he took. Lauren's disgust during that conversation made her view her brother as an unknown creature. It also reinforced the importance of her preparedness to face the outside world alone.Ultimately, her conversation with Keith became a catalyst for her journey north, as she realized the necessity of self-defense in order to survive. The complexities of their relationship and the harsh realities they faced added depth to the narrative. 

 Another aspect of the book that deeply affected her was the disappearance of her father. I will note it can parallel the experience of African-American families who lack a father figure. But in this case the impact on Lauren was lasting. It was her last hope for guidance and someone who shared her beliefs, even though she had not fully disclosed her idea of the Earthseed community to him. The search for her father was a tense and heart-racing moment, especially as they discovered body parts that ultimately turned out not to be his. It left Lauren without closure and raised questions about his fate. Moving on to Lauren's love interest, the unexpected connection she formed with the older man, Bankole, was intriguing. It made me wonder if his strong male presence reminded her of the loss of her father and if she found comfort in having a figure of authority in her life. This relationship also highlighted Lauren's maturity beyond her years, considering she was still a teenager during her journey north. While I found their relationship somewhat unconventional, it seemed to provide the comfort and stability that Lauren needed. I initially thought there might be a love triangle between Lauren, Zahra, and Harry, but the story took a different direction. Overall, Parable of the Sower had me contemplating the idea that we may be truly doomed as a society. The potential lone survivors and the uncertain outcomes left me with a sense of unease. It sparked an interest in creating my own survival pack and finding comfort in my faith, similar to Lauren's journey of accepting the unknown.

[ningningsplushie]

Skateboarding Lessons

Pairing: Jungkook x reader

Word Count: 2,462

Genre: Fluff, skater JK, blond JK, friends to lovers

Summary: With the best skater in town as your best friend, you can’t help but fall for him. During an outing to the skatepark with Jungkook, he insists on teaching you how to skate, leading to the two of you getting closer than ever

Warnings: descriptions of a sprained ankle, course language

A/N: I decided to repost my BTS fics cuz the banners were kinda cringe and had my old username. PLUS, for some reason my BTS fics aren’t showing up on my masterlist??? I hope you enjoy!! +most likely not proofread

The final dewdrops of spring melted away into summer’s sunlight, the overall atmosphere of the flowers, the grass, the sky, somehow more vibrant than what it once was in May. You and Jungkook walk side by side to the local skate park, the symphony of birds and stray street performers just barely lightening your mood.

“I really don’t understand why you dragged me along,” you huff, brows furrowed and lips formed in a pout. Jungkook cocks his head to the side, “I need support from my number one fan,” nearly jumping from excitement.

“ughhhh but you do just fine without me.”

He fakes an expression of pain, mockingly placing his tattooed hand on his chest, “Fine? I’m the best skater in the city, Y/N, you should know that by now.”

“Yeah maybe because you force me to all your competitions and practices.”

Throwing his arm around your shoulder, the other occupied with his skateboard, he pokes your cheek, waiting to rile you up a bit for his simple enjoyment. “Shut up, you love it,” he drawls. You hum in response, neither confirming nor denying his statement, not wanting to give Yourself away when in fact, you absolutely adored accompanying him to the skate park. You thrived off of watching him pull off various sorts of flips, trapezing through the air and concrete like he was born to fly. You called Jungkook the prince of the sky, for the sole purpose of his dashing good looks, with his blond hair and black roots being exposed, his low set brows capturing every emotion with such expression, you can’t help but get trapped in his gaze, and his bunny smile, that killer smile. The smile that lures you to do whatever he wants you to do. It also didn’t help that you had a huge crush on Jungkook, something you’ve been trying to hide for the past two years.

The two of you arrive and without hesitation, Jungkook races off on his board, perfectly fitting in the field of loose denim, baggy shirts, and worn-out Vans.

For forty-five minutes or so, the blond skater rode around the ramps and rails, never failing to land a flip while you sat back in the shade and watched in awe. No matter how many times you saw her  Jungkook in his element, your breath was taken away. You sat, zoned out, thinking about him, not realizing Jungkook’s looming presence coming closer.

“Hey girlie, whatcha thinking about?” he inquired, teasingly flicking his thumb over your chin, crouching down to sit at eye level. You snap out of your love-crazed daze, eyes wide and brows high. Shaking your head, you reply, “nothing, just daydreaming.”

“ouuuuuuu what about? Is it a boy? Is my little Y/N in loooooooove?” he jeers, gently pushing your shoulder for an answer.

You give Jungkook a bittersweet, tight-lipped smile. Of course you were thinking about a boy, but to you, he wasn’t just any boy. He was your boy, something you could never admit. After knowing each other since you were both five, you didn’t want to risk years of friendship for some selfish desires.

“Yeah,” you confess, barely audible but still loud enough for him to hear, “I am in love. It’s not meant to be though,” she looks away, not wanting to show him the tears that were threatening to well up. Jungkook senses the shift in atmosphere and leaps to his feet, eager to sweeten the sour mood. He takes you by both hands and lifts you up, causing you to lose balance, but not before Jungkook could stabilize you against his chest. Embarrassed for your clumsiness and refusing to look up at him,  you bury your face in his shirt. Jungkook takes his tattooed hand and rests it under her chin, tilting your face up, so he could look at her features.

“Hey…I got you,” he whispers,  nodding his head in reassurance, “I always got you.”

Dumbstruck, you can only stare back at him, offering Jungkook a meek, “Yeah…”

You’re quick to snap away from the boy’s grasp, gently pushing yourself away. Jungkook sports an expression of disappointment but you brush it aside, dismissing it for your silly and child-like behavior. Jungkook is quick to regain his giddy aura, lips curving into a sheepish grin. “Come on Y/N, I’m going to teach you how to skate.”

Your eyes nearly bug out of their sockets upon hearing this. “Are you insane?! Do you really expect me to be on your board? That’s literally a death trap for me. I might as well just sprain my ankle right here,” you frown, “Really Jungkook, I thought you knew me better than that.”

“Oh but I do,” he countered, placing his board in your hands. “I know you better than anyone else, maybe even yourself. I know for a fact that you wanted to try skateboarding just once…well, now’s your chance.”

“Not unless you plan on carrying me home if I break my leg.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes in mock annoyance and pulls you by the waist, leaning down in her ear. “For you, I’d do anything. There’s not a task hard enough that’ll diminish my chances of making you happy,” he leans in even closer “Just call me Sisyphus.”

You gulp, hands going clammy and throat suddenly closing in. Placing the board on the ground, she warily eyes the blond. “I don’t know Koo…”

“Hey, hey, it’ll be alright,” he promises, squeezing your hand to give comfort in a small yet significant way. “I won’t let you fall, don’t worry.”

Trusting his eyes and their comfort and his smile and their conviction, you hesitantly place your foot on the skateboard, all the while death-gripping Jungkook’s hands until they turn white.

“Okay good. See! You’re a natural!” he jests, his front teeth poking from his pink lips, not wanting to give his laughter away. “Alright, take your other foot and gently push yourself forward. We’ll just work on riding forward and stopping today.”

Your head whips up, wobbling on one foot while trying to find some balance. “Are you expecting me to learn tricks too?”

He gives a deep chuckle, “Well you obviously won’t be able to get to my level,” he jokes, “but we can get you to do ollies in no time!”

“No, uh uh, no way bunny boy. Riding forwards and stopping is enough for me. Just look at me. I can barely keep my footing on this as it is.”

“Relax, I was just kidding. Don’t want to bring you home with a broken leg.”

“Yeah, you better not,” you grumble.

For thirty minutes you and Jungkook tango back and forth on his skateboard with him resting his one hand on your waist and the other, holding your hand, giving reassurance with slight movements but the fun stops when he spots a few of his friends from across the park. He holds his foot out so that you can’t move forward with the board and places both hands on your waist, plopping you up and down onto the pavement.

“Hey, why don’t we take a little break? We can continue in thirty minutes.”

Disappointed, you grumble, “I don’t need you to skate. I’ll do just fine.”

“Hmmmmm we’ll see how you fare when I return,” he steps back, giving you a mocking bow, “until then M’lady.” And without looking back, he leaves you.

Wanting to prove yourself to him, you hop back on, wobbling as you once did when you first started but quickly finding your balance. You push forwards, swaying back and forth and holding your hands out in the air as if waiting for Jungkook to take them into his strong hold. On your own, you do just fine, obviously not as well with him around, but enough to safely move from one spot to the other. You weren’t confident with your skills yet so the decision to just move back and forth with just maybe 15 feet apart, sat well with you. Board moving in a straight line for a few moments, your pace quickly increases but still wary, you decide to try and attempt a small turn. With your weight shifted onto one side, the feeling of the board moving to the left excites you, making you feel accomplished.

You’re too focused on your task that you fail to notice another skateboarder coming at you at full speed. Hearing the sound of wheels nearing, you lift your head up just to make eye contact with a black-haired boy with buck wide eyes. In a matter of seconds, he crashes into you, causing you to fall down the steep ramp.

The sound of blood rushing to your ears deafens you and it feels as if you’re falling in slow motion. You can make out Jungkook’s surprised expression before hitting the concrete. Landing with an ear-aching crack, your leg folds awkwardly before you. It wasn’t broken but your ankle now sports a purple swell. You didn’t know this as you averted your gaze, refusing to look at your injury in fear of meeting the picture of a horridly bent leg. With both of your hands clasped over your mouth, eyes wide in shock, you sit still, not wanting to move and make matters worse.

“Y/N!!” Jungkook yells. He leaves his friends behind, not sparing a passing glance behind him. He jumps down the ramp, planting both feet firmly when landing, the pain momentarily surging up his legs not phasing, he’s only focused on making sure you’re fine.

Tears well up in your eyes but you don’t sob as you were embarrassed by crying in front of so many skaters. The pain was like no other and it seemed to spread through your whole body despite the injury being only focused on your left ankle.

Jungkook rushes towards you, squatting and gently removing your hands from your mouth and replacing it with his hands cupping your reddened face like a flower blooming.

“Hey, look at me, Y/N, look at me.” But you don’t. Instead, your gaze is fixed on his board that lies a few feet away. Knowing that all you were feeling was the searing pain growing and fear, he gently wipes away your tears, applying a bit of pressure under your eyes, so he could get you out of your trance.

“I know it hurts, so I’m going to carry you, alright?”

You nod, not fully comprehending what he was saying. He effortlessly places you in his arms, making sure your injured ankle was dangling in a comfortable position. He looks at you, regret painting his face, leading you to bunch your fists into his shirt and placing your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent as he carries you away, leaving his board behind.

Arriving at his apartment, Jungkook places you on his couch, setting down a pillow on the glass table before lighting positioning your leg on top of it. You finally snapped out of the state of shock you were in and frowned.

“Why aren’t we at the hospital? Shouldn’t we be there right now?”

Jungkook shakes his head. “It’s fine. I’ve had many sprained ankles, wrists, what have you. I know what I’m doing.” He briefly leaves his living room, opening the door to the bathroom. You hear sounds of rummaging, and he returns with a first aid kit. He sits next to you and begins to wrap your ankle with an elastic bandage, making sure pressure is applied. Doing so, he starts talking.

“Fuck… Y/N…I’m so sorry,” he shakes his head in shame. “This is going to hurt for a second by the way.” It does. A lot. You press your eyes shut and Jungkook takes one of your hands and places it on his shoulder, urging you to squeeze. “I never should have forced you to skate, I just…I just wanted you to have fun. I didn’t want you to sit all alone. You also looked so…so happy riding around. I want to see that look of pure joy all the time.”

He finishes wrapping your ankle and proceeds to the kitchen, grabbing an ice pack. Positioning it so that the ice pack doesn’t fall, he leans back, sitting next to you once more.

“Please don’t apologize Kookie, it isn’t your fault. I should have taken a break as you told me to but I…I just wanted to make you proud.” Head hanging limply in embarrassment of your confession. He furrows his brows, confusion masking his face. “Proud? What do you mean?”

“You looked so proud of me and I wanted to do more so you’d be even more proud.” You meekly admitted. “Wait…why do you want to see me happy all the time?”

“Isn’t it obvious Y/N?” You shake your head and he scoffs. “I like you. No,” he closes his eyes. “I love you. So, so much. It pained me seeing you injured and crying. I want to see you happy. I want to hear you laughing, especially if I’m the cause of that reaction.” He plays with his fingers, just as he once did when he was a child and meeting a new person, too shy to make eye contact with them.

“Do you really mean that Jungkook?” you questioned, not wanting all of what he said to be all in your head.

“It’s the most certain I’ve ever been Y/N. When I’m with you…everything feels so sure, I feel so sure. You make me stable and secure and I don’t want that feeling to go away. I know we’ve been friends since we were five and I understand if you don’t reciprocate these feelings but-”

“I love you too Kookie.” you interrupt. His twiddling with his fingers ceases.

“Y-you do?”

“Of course I do. How could I not? You’re there for me when no one else is and I’m so thankful for that.” Jungkook straightens his posture, taking a deep breath. He leans in closer to you, lips so close to yours that you could almost taste his breath. He pushes a lock of your hair behind your ear.

“Can I kiss you?”

You nod your head, the ability to form a verbal answer is lost. He closes the small yet innumerable distance between the two of you and in an instant, that surety that Jungkook spoke of comes to you. The way his cherry flavored lips remind you that sweetness exists in the world. The way his strong arms snake around your waist, proving that through life’s uncertainties, there will always be that one thing that keeps you anchored and for you, that thing, or rather, that person was Jungkook.

[powdermelonkeg]

Zora headcanons please?

There's so many kinds of Zora; how about I do them all? :D

River Zora

So, the River Zora were the first kind of Zora we were ever met with in the LoZ series.

Capable of shooting fireballs, this variant of Zora is EXTREMELY territorial and defensive of their domain. And with good reason; their eggs are a rarity--a River Zora might lay only two eggs in their entire lifetime, which can reach up to 800 years. And monsters, especially water-based monsters, tend to be scavengers, meaning that if a Zora isn’t careful, their nest can be raided and the eggs devoured before they have a chance to react.

The River Zora are vibrantly colored, with the ability to puff up to three times their normal size and possessing side-fins to use as flashy warning signs against potential predators. Living in a place like Hyrule means you have to have all kinds of tricks up your sleeve!

But all that flash isn’t just for show; when they’re stressed, their skin releases a toxic substance that can cause paralysis in nearby enemies.

You can see it here in Queen Oren’s fountain, how the water’s gone dark purple (along with the size magnification mentioned previously).

Their mouths contain special glands that secrete a kind of organic napalm. When creating a fireball, they gather some of this substance in their cheeks and ignite it with a spark of electricity, similar to an electric catfish. This ability takes time for them to develop, and fireball accuracy is a point of pride among their soldiers.

Their diet consists of mostly trout, and their domain is hidden in a waterfall beside Death Mountain. However, by BoTW’s time, the River Zora have fled Hyrule for distant Holodrum, where there’s remarkably less threat of extinction.

Zora Warriors

These are actually the result of River Zora adapting to salinity! Also called “Geozards” to differentiate them from their ancestors, these Zora have lost their toxicity and pufferfish-like abilities in exchange for denser muscle mass and near-impenetrable scales. The frill atop their heads is their only biological sex indicator; frill means male, no frill means female, and the sex of a Geozard is determined by the temperature their egg was kept in, like alligators!

They also have an increased capacity for firepower compared to their more docile inland counterparts, an adaptation developed in the presence of more aggressive waterlife out in the open ocean. The napalm they produce is a LOT harder to get off of yourself, so watch out!

Lake Zora

Most famous for their queen, Ruto, Lake Zora are blue-white in coloring and have fins that mimic the patterns clear water would create on the seafloor. Unlike their vibrantly-colored firebreathing cousins, these Zora are stealth hunters, blending in with the water and staying very still before darting out to catch their prey in a split second.

The well-known fondness for jewelry that Zora have started with this subspecies, where earrings, necklaces, and gemstones were first utilized as bait, similar to metallic fishing lures. Since then, the fondness for shiny decoration has only grown, peaking when the Zoroyal family was entrusted with the Spiritual Stone of Water. Since receiving it, the gifting of sapphires between Zora has been a token of engagement, similar to how rings are in our culture.

Early stages of Zora life strongly resemble tadpoles; upon hatching, they’re little more than eyes and a sharklike tail. As they mature, however, the rest of their body develops, tucked into the curve beneath their faces, before eventually emerging into a Zora guppy.

Zora guppies are...clumsy, to say the least. Their bodies haven’t grown quite enough to support their heads yet, so they need neck support at all times. It’s just like human babies! It takes a Lake Zora about three years to get to the point where they can support their own head weight, so during that time, the parents have to be extremely diligent with their baby’s safety.

Bay Zora

The Zora that live in the Great Bay of Termina are almost identical to their Hyrulean counterparts.

Almost.

These Zora have had to adapt both to salt water and the presence of predators larger than them, so on top of the skills the Lake Zora possess, they also have a faster swimming speed, a tolerance to acid, and the ability to create a weak electric field around themselves to ward off potential attackers.

Falls Zora

This subspecies of Zora actually marks an evolutionary transition point between the Lake Zora and the Sea Zora. They still possess muted coloration to blend into the water for stealth attacks, but they’re starting to branch out; sunset-colored fins and bioluminescent spots on their headtails mark the development of several key traits BoTW Zora possess.

It’s also the point where we first see sign of the red and purple color mutations.

But by far the most interesting point of this particular era in Zora history is their cultural development.

This is the point in time where they start decorating their domain with the trademark Zora silver we know them for in BoTW, with intricate lacing designs in semi-see-through walls.

We also see the first use of Zora spears, along with masks worn by soldiers and metallic jewelry, signifying that the Zora have begun to develop the means to forge tools.

This is huge, from a worldbuilding perspective. Aquatic races tend to get locked into a stone-age level of tech, because it’s insanely difficult to forge metals without fire and without cooking yourself. The techniques they use to make these weapons and decorations, though they remain a carefully guarded Zora secret, are the reason they can make grand palaces like we see in BoTW.

This era also marks the appearance of Zora armor; as in, clothing created from Zora scales.

Magical garments for breathing underwater existed before, but the presence of this here means that Zora can both shed and craft their scales into a kind of chainmail mesh. In later years, this kind of garment would become the equivalent of exchanging sapphires, specifically for inter-species relationships in Hyrule.

And, finally:

Sea Zora

These are probably the Zora you all were expecting. I’ve covered the reasoning behind their coloration and physical variation here, so let’s get to the stuff I haven’t quite covered yet, shall we?

The Zora of BoTW are highly adapted to salt-water conditions, capable of breathing in both fresh and seawater. Their scales, however, are thinner due to generations of enjoying a peaceful lifestyle, making them highly susceptible to burns, frostbite, and electrical nerve damage. This makes elemental arrows a huge threat to the Zora population; it’s an ongoing debate in their kingdom on whether or not it should be banned.

A Sea Zora’s lifespan consists of about 20 years of being a guppy, at which point, they develop their “sea legs.” As you’ll notice, this is much longer than the standard infancy of their ancestors; while Lake Zora matured at a similar rate to humans, Sea Zora more closely resemble the lifespans of River Zora, which can lead to generations of Hylians passing by in only one Zora lifetime.

After growing out of their guppy phase, Sea Zora stay at a relatively small size, even into adulthood, until they hit their growthspurts. This final stage of Zora maturity is triggered by environmental factors, such as temperature, abundance of resources, and emotional stability, though some Zora take longer to reach that finicky balance than others. The growth stage takes about two years to finish; Mipha, a hundred years prior to BoTW, was right in the middle of hers, thus making her much smaller than other fully grown Zora at the time.

On a cultural note, Zora from this era participate in neck elongation, like many human cultures in Africa and Asia.

In this practice, coils of metal are wrapped around the neck to give the appearance of it being longer than it actually is. Contrary to popular belief, this doesn’t actually dislocate the neck and vertebrae; instead, it works by pushing the collarbones down and the chin upwards.

We can see this practice on Zora of any age, and all walks of life; it’s even present in the Zora Armor, to a lesser degree.

Notably, though, Royal Zora and Zora in direct service to the Zoroyal family haf elegant frames rather than coils, as a secondary indicator of status.

Luminous stones are popular with these Zora, and it’s believed that this started as a mirror to their developing bioluminescence. And they have a lot of it; unfortunately, however, it’s on a scale humans don’t perceive very well, as to us, the most glow we get is right above Muzu’s eyes.

But for Zora? They see A LOT.

Sidon, for example. We see him like this:

But Zora night vision isn’t as good as ours, so they’d see something more like this instead:

(Not an accurate depiction, a rough estimate done by someone with little art skills)

The spots on his head, the brightly colored edges of his fins, and the luminous stones all stand out, letting Zora identify each other in murky waters easily.

Sea Zora eyes possess special cells in them specifically for detecting luminescence. These disappear in strong light:

But are visible in darker settings, like rainy Zora’s Domain, in the form of tiny dots on the outer edge of the iris.

These cells work by catching miniscule amounts of light and color and reflecting them, causing weak dots to become much more pronounced, at the cost of their night vision overall.

Hope this answered your questions about the Zora!

[thelampisaflashlight]

Copia vs The Ghouls: How do they get along? Basically just some random headcanons involving the ghoul’s first interactions with Copia. Under the cut to save you the needless scrolling if this ain’t your thing.

Aether: More or less accepted Copia’s presence since day one, but kept an eye on him and was generally wary like the rest of them. Pretty easily went from, “WHO ARE YOU” to “Ah, it’s the rat man” to “Okay, I somewhat respect you”. 

He kind of had to convince the others that Copia was “chill”, but it took a bit of coaxing and bribery at first. Ghouls aren’t exactly animals, but they do have more of a pack dynamic, in that they have their little groupings, and it’s always kind of a clusterfuck adapting to new members and how they fit into that.

Nowadays Aether is fairly close with and trusting of Copia and is one of the first people to express his confidence in his character and vision. 

Dewdrop: He was definitely on the more wary side of things, but after Aether gave Copia his seal of approval, Dew changed his tune pretty quick. He trusts Aether’s judgement when it comes to people, and, honestly, his desire to keep making music far outweighed his doubts about Copia.

Overall, Dew’s main concern with Copia is/was how long he was going to be around. Despite his chaotic nature, Dew appreciates some stability in his life now and then. With Copia being more present and involved with things, Dew has less concerns about trusting him.

Hell, these days he’ll even let Copia tease him a bit.

Swiss/Multi: Like Aether, he was pretty quick to accept Copia into the fold. He’s a more the merrier type, and having someone new around was fun and exciting for him. 

Rain: He mostly avoided Copia until Dew agreed with Aether’s “he’s fine, he’s just weird” assessment, and has since gotten used to him being around. Although Rain was for sure one of the ghouls that took the “skittish kitten” approach to Copia overall.

He had to be lured over at times by other ghouls to get him to hang around when Copia was there. 

Mountain: He took the “I own a cat, but I never see it around” approach, which is impressive from a ghoul of his size. He wasn’t scared or bothered by Copia’s presence, he simply just did not care. In fact, he still doesn’t, but he’s accepted that the rat man is in charge and doesn’t complain. Much like Dew, he’s more focused on getting to make music.

Cumulus and Cirrus: A combo move on their part, Copia had to earn their respect by proving he’d actually respect them, after that was settled, they decided he was okay and could be trusted. If he didn’t, he’d be shit out of luck, because he’d be down two ghouls, and a couple teeth.

New Ghoul: Being a new addition, she has about the same view of Copia as she does of the other ghouls, and was in a similar boat until the other ghouls accepted her into the group. Her being a ghoul definitely helped the others make up their mind easier on whether or not they vibed with her, but, at this point, Copia saying she was skilled and would be a great asset to the band helped them decide even quicker. 

[maximons]

Without You

Summary: Everything seems to be going alright for Wanda Maximoff, but a mission gone horribly awry makes everything crash and burn.

Word Count: 3,101

Genre: Angst

Requested?: Yes

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, mentions of blood, burns, scarring

A/N: Alright kids, you ready for angst time? My first full out angst fic, oh boy. This ones got no happy ending guys, so do with that what you will. This takes place during Civil War, so spoilers...? I guess? I’d say Happy Reading, but I don’t think you guys will be that happy by the end of this sooo good luck!

Lagos.

That’s the place where everything in Wanda’s life fell apart. Or at least fell apart even further than it had before.

Some of the team were out on a mission. You guys finally managed to track down Rumlow and his gang after about a year of searching. Everything was going fairly well, yes there was some collateral damage, and things didn’t exactly go according to plan, but overall, it looked like you guys would come out of this with a win.

And then, it happened.

Wanda and you had begun to jog up to Steve’s location, where you saw him stare Rumlow down. Something in you just told you that this wasn’t going to go well. You looked at the scene in front of you, and then your gaze fell onto the building behind it. It was too close for comfort.

“Babe, I’m gonna go check that building.” You turned to your girlfriend. “Looks like there could be a lot of people in there, I’m gonna try to get them out.” She looked at you, and then to the building briefly. Part of her wanted to question why when the fight was happening out here, but she knew in your line of work things can be unpredictable.

She nodded. “Okay, be safe.” You nodded back with a small smile, and pecked her on the cheek.

“Always am.” With that, you ran off.

It was only about two or three minutes after you ran in when things went to hell.

Rumlow pulled a pin on his vest, and Wanda reacted as quickly as she could, capturing him mid explosion in her magic. She lifted him up, trying to get him as far away from the people below as possible, but she couldn’t hold it anymore. The explosion went off.

Blowing a huge hole into that building.

Wanda stood there, shocked for a moment over what just happened. Her hand came and slowly covered her mouth, mind going over all the damage she just caused. She vaguely heard Steve calling for fire and rescue, and then it hit her.

You were in there.

“Y/n...” She whispered, still in a state of shock, but she quickly snapped out of it and sprang into action. “Y/n!” She heard Steve yell for her to wait, but she didn’t care. She took off, flying up and landed in one of the building’s destroyed floors.

She did her best to ignore the carnage around her, carnage she caused. She pushed down the bile that was rising in her throat, and continued her search for you. 

And then she found you.

You were a super soldier, so luckily you didn’t die from the blast, she could still feel your pulse. But you didn’t look good.

You were lying on the charred floor, unconscious. Half of your suit was burned off, leaving nasty burns all on your arm and torso, some even creeping up your neck and face. Blood also dripped down from an open wound on your temple.

Wanda couldn’t bring herself to care about your appearance, though. You were still alive, and that’s the main thing she cared about right now.

“Don’t worry.” She sobbed out, hand gently caressing your unburned cheek. “You’re okay...you’re gonna be okay...” She tore her gaze away from you for a minute, and looked around. Tears falling at the sight of multiple bodies, people who weren’t as lucky as you.

People who were dead because of her.

“...I’m so sorry...”

The next week was chaos.

You were brought to the compound’s medical facility immediately, doctors working fast to try and save your life. They managed to stabilize you, now it was just a waiting game as to when you would wake up. Wanda would visit you everyday, barely being able to leave your side. Steve managed to convince her that she needed to rest, saying that you wouldn’t want to see her neglecting her needs. She hesitantly complied, and finally went to her room to sleep for the night.

The next morning, the news started reporting the incident.

And of course they blamed her.

Logically, Wanda knew this wasn’t entirely her fault. Rumlow was the one who turned himself into a bomb. She was just trying to save the lives below. That thought brought her little comfort though.

She was still responsible for the lives lost in that building. She was still responsible for you, the love of her life, being severely injured and in a coma.

Maybe they were right.

Steve didn’t let her wallow in that thought for too long though, because he shut the TV off. He sat down and gave her one of his hope speeches, and she appreciated the effort, but she didn’t want to hear it.

“It’s my fault.” She whispered. “All of those people, dead because of me...and Y/n...” She trailed off, tears forming in her eyes. Steve placed a hand on her leg, trying to comfort her.

“You know...she doesn’t blame you, I know she doesn’t.”

“Maybe she should...they all should.”

Steve couldn’t get anything else out, as Vision phased in the room and told them of the arrival of Secretary Ross.

As if things couldn’t get any worse, he had told them about the Sokovia Accords. Wanda hated the idea, forcing heroes to register with the government, essentially making them puppets for them. She knew you would hate it too, you never were one to trust the government.

“Look, we understand where you’re coming from, but if it weren’t for us, there’d be a lot more blood spilled.” Sam argued.

“Tell that to the innocent civilians in that Lagos hospital building.” Ross argued back. “Oh wait, you can’t.”

“If it weren’t for Wanda, hundreds of people in the streets below would have been killed.” Steve cut in. “If it weren’t for Y/n, hundreds of more people would have been in that building.”

“And look where that landed her.”

Wanda had enough. She shot up from her chair, and stormed out of the room.

She went straight to your hospital room, your still unconscious body covered in bandages. She pulled up a chair beside your bed, hand going to grip yours. She tried to speak, but couldn’t bring herself to form the words. So she just rested her head on your joined hands and cried.

The next few weeks saw the Avengers falling apart, divided over the accords. Wanda was especially disappointed in Natasha’s decision, given that you two were best friends. 

Wanda hasn’t left the compound. Most of her time was spent visiting you and sleeping as best she could. Your burns had begun healing, but barely. They still left pretty nasty scars. Your breathing had improved, which satisfied the doctors. They had said you could wake up any moment now, Wanda just hoped it was soon.

The next day, Wanda walked into the kitchen to find Vision cooking. She found that odd, since she knew he didn’t eat, but he explained that he was making it for her. You used to cook for her a lot, and after a few disasters, you finally got the recipe down. Vision’s was no where near as good as yours, but she appreciates the effort.

After a conversation about their powers and their fear of them, Wanda volunteered to go to the store to pick up some paprika that would greatly help the dish. Vision stopped her.

“Vision...are you not letting me leave?”

“It’s a matter of safety.”

“I can handle myself.”

Vision stopped her again. “Not yours. Mr. Stark would like to avoid the possibility of another public incident.”

Wanda looked at the synthezoid in disbelief. “I’m not an out of control time bomb. It was an accident.”

“I know. I do, but...you powers are very unpredictable. You are also...vulnerable. My scanners have indicated you are, how you say, ‘on edge’. You have been ever since Miss L/n was admitted in the medical wing.”

Wanda’s gaze turned into a harsh glare. “I know that human emotion is a foreign concept to you Vision, but trust me, if your girlfriend was ever put in a coma because of you...being ‘on edge’ is the least you would be.”

Without waiting for a response, Wanda turned around and stormed off. She headed to the one place that her feet often dragged her to the last weeks. Your bedside. 

She sat and took a hold of your hand. She stared at you for a moment before she spoke. “Hey, baby. Things have been...hard without you to say the least. Not that this wouldn’t be hard anyway, but everything is falling apart. These stupid accords are ruining everything. Tony has become a government pet, Nat joining him, Steve is off doing who knows what, and now...I’m locked in.” She paused. “You know, as much as I wish more than anything that you were awake and by my side right now...part of me is glad that you wouldn’t have to see your family fall apart like this. It’d break your heart...” She stayed for a few more moments, staring at your face and taking in your features once again. She then leaned down to kiss your hand. “I love you.” With that, she left.

Later that night, Wanda was back in the main room of the compound. You still haven’t woken up, she just learned she was essentially on house arrest, so she was trying to find ways to find ways to distract herself. She was reading a book, when she heard a loud explosion go off outside. She walked over to the window to take a look, Vision joining her a few moments later.

“What is it?”

“Stay here please.”

Wanda was left alone for a moment, before she felt a presence behind her. She quickly grabbed hold of the knife on the table, and flinging it towards the new presence. She halted it when she saw who it was.

Clint.

The next few minutes passed by like a blur. Clint was convincing her to come help Steve, Vision came back in but was trapped, Wanda hesitated and Clint gave her one of those hope speeches. She was about to decline, before he said one last thing.

“You know, if Y/n was awake...I know she’d side with Steve, and she’d only hope you’d do the same.”

Was it manipulative? Possibly, but he was also right. You would have sided with Steve, no question. Doing what you could to help. She thought on it for a few more moments, before she nodded. They were about to leave before Vision broke free. The two men fought, and before she knew it, she was sending the synthezoid several floors down and into the ground. 

She went to her room, quickly packing her suit and anything else she thought she would need. She went back out to meet Clint, about to leave, but she stopped.

“Wait! I gotta see Y/n first.” 

Clint sighed, but knew he couldn’t deny her of this. “Alright, make it quick.”

She booked it to your hospital room. You were lying there, same as you have been for a while. She quickly surged forward grabbed your hand, not bothering to sit. She knew they didn’t have time.

“Alright, baby. I’m gonna go out for a bit, okay? I’m not sure when I’ll be back, but...I’m going to do what’s right. I’m going to fight. I finally ‘got off my ass’ as you would say.” She chuckled, but it held no real joy behind it. “I just hope you’d be proud of me...and I just hope that I can come back to see you-”

Wanda cut herself off when she felt you begin to move. All of a sudden your face shifted, and you began to turn your head. 

“Y/n?...”

You began to open your eyes slowly, head slowly lifting off your pillow. Your eyes looked around, trying to adjust to the brightness of the room. Before you could even look at Wanda though, you began coughing. 

Wanda rushed to poor you a glass of water, knowing your mouth would be dry from not using it for a while. She handed it to you, quickly, and you slowly raised your hand to take it. As you began to drink, Wanda couldn’t help but smile. You were finally awake. She was beyond relieved. She was put in a rough spot now, she knew she had to meet Clint so they could go, but...you were finally awake. She couldn’t leave you.

“Wanda, we gotta go!” She heard Clint yell, and without tearing her eyes away from you, she yelled back.

“In a minute! Y/n just woke up!”

She didn’t hear a response from the man, but she heard footsteps quickly making its way towards your room. 

You finished drinking your water and placed the cup on the bedside table. You began to try to sit up, but Wanda rushed to your side to help.

“Here you go, easy.”

When you fully sat up, you took in the appearance of the woman next to you. You smiled. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” She breathed out. You looked her in the eyes, smile still on both your faces. But, Wanda’s smile dropped instantly at the next words that came out of your mouth.

“Sorry, hi, I’m Y/n. You probably already knew that though.” You chuckled nervously. “Are you one of the nurses?”

Wanda froze. No. This couldn’t be happening. The doctors told her that Amnesia was a possibility since you hit your head on impact from the blast, but it never seemed like a real threat. She stared at you, jaw slacked for a few more moments.

“Um, hello?...Oh! Are you my doctor? Sorry, I didn’t mean to assume.”

Wanda snapped out of it when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned her head to see it was Clint. You spoke up again before she could say anything though.

“Oh, hey, are you a nurse? Or doctor?”

Realization filled Clint’s face, but he held it together. He simply shook his head.

“Oh...so, is someone supposed to help me or...?” You trailed off. 

Clint looked to Wanda, who was still in shock, tears beginning to form in her eyes. He knew he had to take over, get them out as soon as possible. “Sorry, Y/n. We’ll get your nurse to come and check on you. Glad to see you’re awake.” Before you could respond, he quickly rushed out of the room, pulling Wanda with him.

Wanda finally let herself break down, and cried in the van. She barely had time to process everything before they picked up a man name Scott and flew to the airport to meet Steve.

Steve broke down the plan and the team went separate ways to suit up and get in position. Except Wanda. Steve was about to go get himself ready, but paused when he saw the witch frozen in place.

“Wanda? You okay?” Wanda simply shook her head and looked up at him, he could see the tears in her eyes. “What happened?”

“Y/n woke up.”

Steve raised his eyebrows in shock. “She did? That’s great-” He was cut off when Wanda let out a sob. He then put two and two together, something was wrong. “...What was it?”

“She...doesn’t remember anything...doesn’t remember me...”

Steve sighed. He was saddened by the news as well, you and him were very close, both being super soldiers and all. He couldn’t even imagine what Wanda was going through in this moment though, so he put on a brave face. He went over to the witch and wrapped an arm around her. “Y/n is strong...when this is over, we’ll go see her and start-” Steve was cut off again when Wanda shook her head.

“Steve...you and I both know this isn’t gonna end with us just being able to go back...” She looked up at him. He was about to speak up again, when he heard Sam in his ear.

“Cap, Tony and Rhodey are flying in now. You good to go?” 

Steve looked to Wanda, knowing she heard him too since they all had coms. She nodded. “On my way.” He turned to leave, before giving Wanda one last look. “Whatever happens, it’ll be okay.”

It wasn’t.

The fight at the airport was beyond tiresome, and they lost. Steve and Bucky got away to handle the other Winter Soldiers, but the rest of the team was captured.

So now here she was, sitting in a cell in a high security prison in the middle of the ocean...with a straight jacket and shock collar on. Wanda couldn’t even be upset about it. She was numb. She’s already lost everything she possibly could. Her parents, her brother, her country, and now...you. She couldn’t bring herself to care whether or not she wasted away in this cell. Maybe she deserved to.

But of course, she couldn’t even have that for long, as Steve broke them out a few days later.

Up on the quinjet with Steve and the rest of the team, she sat alone, staring out the window watching the dark clouds pass by. After a few moments, she felt a presence next to her. She looked over to see who it was. Natasha.

“What are you doing here?” Wanda asked, looking back out the window. 

“It’s a long story.” She answered. “Steve told me what happened, I...I’m not even sure what to say. I am so sorry Wanda.” Wanda merely nodded, not trusting her voice right now. Natasha took a deep breath and continued. “Y’know...I can pull some strings, the ones I have left anyway. Get Y/n relocated to be with us. I know she doesn’t remember anything right now, but-”

“No.” Wanda cut her off, surprising the redhead.

“Wha...what do you mean ‘no’?”

Wanda had thought about it, she’s thought about it the entire time she was in the Raft. She would love nothing more than to see you again, to hold you and help you on your recovery, but...she couldn’t. She was a wanted fugitive now, and you were only in this predicament because of her...she had to be selfless here. She couldn’t bring you into this life, not when you were missing chunks of your own.

“I mean no.” She said, looking up into Natasha’s eyes, tears pooling in her own. “She’s better off.”

And with that, Wanda got up, walking towards the back of the jet to be alone. She took a deep breath, and prepared herself. Preparing herself for a new life as a fugitive on the run. And most importantly...

Preparing for a life without you.

[shivrcys]

Which season Hürrem is your favorite?

I can't say that I specifically have a favourite Hürrem from any season. I like her throughout the show for different reasons. And her appeal evolves over time. That said, I'm definitely in my Vahide era at the moment. I hope this isn’t too incoherent. Even in spite of how long it is.

I love season 1 Hürrem because I think at that stage her immaturity both makes a lot of sense and is very endearing. She's only 17 when the show starts, and she's gone through an extremely traumatising event. She behaves like a child because she basically is a child. Which explains both a lot of her more extreme or problematic actions (while obviously not justifying it), as well as a lot of her behaviour in general. One of my favourite moments is when she arrives on the Favourites' Floor because she allows herself to relax and be a child. Which is so nice to see after everything that has happened to her. We also see her intelligence and cunning. As she starts trying to manipulate situations and the people around her for her own benefit. This is also the season where the conflict between her love for her family and the need to move on is at its strongest. This can be seen in how proud she is of her new name, and in the active decision she makes in converting to Islam. That said, the conflict is the most apparent in the Leo arc. His presence is an unwelcome reminder of the past she can no longer go back to and the traumatic circumstances of both her separation from that past and her present. Even though she does still care about him. And all of this comes to a head in his death scene, which represents the final severing of her her last connection to the past. Overall though, I think this conflict, and a lot of her psychology overall, stem from her abandonment issues. She’s determined to find family, love and stability because she lost precisely those things. And she’s also ambitious and gaining power is also a goal for her. So there is a lot to love and to analyse with her there.

Season 2 Hürrem is...interesting. First of all, the Isabella plotline did Hürrem no favours. Early season 2 Hürrem is probably my least favourite version of her because of this. That aside however, season 2 was a huge season for her growth and development as a character. She went from arguably one of her most powerless moments in the whole show at the beginning of the season 2 being crowned the ruler of the harem at the end. And she becomes more recognisable as who she is later on. She becomes more willing to discuss her past and how she has been affected by her trauma. And because of this we start to see her able to persuade people using it. I think the first example of this is when Hatice is unresponsive and depressed and worried about Ibrahim. Hürrem sympathises with her by relating her own experiences to Hatice's and is able to make her snap out of it. To everyone's surprise. Overall this can be explained by the fact that her position starts to stabilise at this point. So she can start to open up and reflect on the past more. Ironically around the same time that she burnt Leo’s notebook (which was honestly one of my favourite scenes because it’s literally her innocence of the crime and the fact that Nigar and Daye believed in her that saved her). While she has had to move on from the past in some ways, in other ways it stays with her and she still cares about the people she has lost. She’s still deeply affected by her abandonment issues, and still quite isolated. So she does want and reach out for friendships (as can be seen in her dynamics with Hatice, Nigar and Sümbül both in seasons 1 and 2 and Gül, Nilüfer and Aybige in season 2), although she’s willing to sell them out if it benefits her or hurts her enemies. Although she will still do what she can to reward people who help her, as she does Daye.  She has both a deeply caring and a ruthless side to her. At this point she’s also at her most audacious yet. This can be seen in both how she schemes to marry Süleyman and also rule the harem after the Valide’s death. Both of which she succeeds in. She also becomes more ruthless. As can be seen in her attempts to kill Ibrahim and the Efsun plot. The first attempt to kill Ibrahim comes soon after Leo’s death so she’s still deeply angry and upset and motivated by pure revenge. The second one is similar, although to a lesser extent. It also shows that she’s not as ruthless as she will be later on since she does call it off both because Ibrahim is helping with the wedding between her and Süleyman. This changes by season 3. The Efsun situation is also interesting because it highlights both her ruthlessness and immaturity. As it can be contrasted with the very similar Cevher incident in season 4, in which she is far more willing to admit wrongdoing and try to make up for it. So this shows how Hürrem both has more positive and negative character development to go through by this point.

Season 3 was interesting because Hürrem was challenged in new and interesting ways. And some new sides to her character were highlighted. Her ruthlessness was particularly apparent, but there was still a lot more to her than that. And there is a progression between her characterisation here and in season 4. First of all, her ruthlessness is apparent in Ibrahim’s death and the Firuze arc. She finally actually succeeded in killing Ibrahim and after her fallout with Hatice, she no longer was considering the consequences that this would have for her. Her reaction was interesting though. Because she was at first shocked (since she didn’t necessarily know what the consequences of her influence on Süleyman were guaranteed to be) and then triumphant (and honestly, given everything he put her through I can’t exactly blame her). As for Firuze, her ruthlessness against her stems both from abandonment issues and the pain of betrayal. She saved Firuze from the abuse of the slavers and she liked her and trusted her. As far as Hürrem was concerned, she had found a new friend (and this is still at the point where she’s trying to reach out). She thought she’d found someone she could find solidarity with. So when she found out that Firuze was the favourite, her lashing out in large part stems from that hurt. That said, the other interesting thing about Firuze, was how her challenge highlighted other parts of Hürrems psychology. When she almost took Thursday night from Hürrem, Hürrem’s monologue as she was going to kill herself is very interesting. Because she goes back to her family and her parents. Highlighting how they are still with her after so long as well as her abandonment issues and emotional isolation. As well as the fact that there’s so much that she can’t tell anyone (’Time to stay silent’). And all of this makes it all the more meaningful when a new parental figure and friend, Afife, saves her. That hug honestly made me cry. And the friendship between Hürrem and Afife is one of my favourites on the show. After this point she doesn’t feel such a need to reach out for friendships in the same way. The only person to whom she does is Şah, and that’s because she specifically in order to be friends with a Dynasty member who could be on her side. Moving on to Şah, her rivalry with Hürrem was one of my favourites. It highlighted the intelligence and ruthlessness of them both, the way ın which Hürrem used her loyalty as a defensive mechanism and her neuroticism and protectiveness towards her children. Her loyalty was a defensive mechanism for two reasons: both because she never wanted to lose someone she loved again, but also because she was at risk of incurring Süleyman’s anger if she stepped out of line too much. Şah cleverly exploited this. Which was very interesting to see. Hürrem’s neuroticism also causes her to make the decision that puts Mehmet’s life at risk, by refusing to let him go to any Sanjak aside from Manisa. She did this because she thought that it would save him. But instead she was kidnapped and he was murdered. Overall the protective mother angle gets highlighted more in Season 3B and it’s very interesting to see. And finally I would like to mention one of my favourite scenes. Which was her conversation with Kevser Hatun. It highlights how her past stayed with her, her ability to persuade and her ability to find solidarity with other women. It’s a fantastic scene and I think the show should have made more of her charity work. So season 3 contributed to her characterisation in some extremely compelling ways.

Now onto season 4! She’s at her most ruthless this season, but she matures a lot here. And I absolutely love Vahide as Hürrem. I’d say her character development in season 4 goes from being vengeful and vindictive right after Mehmet’s death and her return from captivity to starting to heal and mature over time. There is the parallel between episodes 104 and 133 of her refusing to forgive and then finally forgiving Mahidevran. Which is hugely significant in terms of her character growth. And the contrast between the Hürrem who says that she sees Mustafa continuing to live as an insult to Mehmet’s memory and the one who says that she wishes he were her son and cries in private after his death is also very telling of this change. She is still ruthless as she orders the deaths of people like Nazenin, Cevher and Mustafa. But she is overall more mature and willing to admit when she’s in the wrong. This is especially the case with Cevher as she apologises to Sümbül, frees him and tries to make up for what she has done to him. This contrasts with Efsun and it shows that while she’s still ruthless and capable of terrible things, she’s more willing to accept responsability. Especially at this point, Hürrem has no illusion that she’s innocent. And she’s still as protective of her children as ever, although this brings up new challenges. Her plotting against Mustafa is motivated by her wish to protect her children, but she underestimates how significant those fraternal relationships are. And this leads to Cihangir’s death. I will say that Vahide’s acting as Hürrem grieved Cihangir was powerful. And Cihangir’s death was also especially significant considering that it was the first time Hürrem could properly mourn someone. Her relationship with Nurbanu was interesting. Because she chose her specifically because she saw herself in her. And she knew she could protect Selim. But this conflicted with her attempts to also protect Bayezid. As two very similar ruthless and ambitious women fought to protect their families. Hürrem was never going to be able to truly choose a side between her sons though since losing another child was her worst nightmare. How much she cared about her children was just so...Her relationship with Sümbül was at its best this season. I loved how they stayed friends even after she freed her and her visiting his coffee shop was sweet. Finally I would like to talk about the best episode for Hürrem: episode 134. This episode was a fantastic tribute to her. I loved the phoenix imagery. It’s such a great representation of her resilience and survival and also mixes her bird and fire imagery nicely. The scene where the women visit and thank her made me cry. I loved the acknowledgement of her charity work again. Her hugging and comforting Mihrimah was nice and made for a powerful parallel with her hugging her mother in her dream back in episode 1. And it was nice that a character who had had to deal with grief and loss or the threat of it got to die surrounded by her loved ones. Her actual death scene was powerful too. Both with the combination of Luli and the Seventh Door and because time stopped for her death. Overall at the moment season 4 Hürrem is my favourite and probably the most complex version of her. She’s fantastic. They had a difficult job to do since they had to contend the most strongly with the ‘evil witch who manipulated Süleyman’ narrative while not also letting her off the hook but they thread that needle. And it’s why I’d say season 4 Hürrem is possibly the best written character in the franchise.

[flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash]

Irresistible Danger - Part 60

Synopsis:  After being caught outside the compound on your own, Negan decides to punish you in the best way possible ;)

Words: 3,229

Warnings: nsfw, smut, swearing

ID Masterlist can be found HERE

Masterlist of all my fics can be found HERE

Author’s Note: We’re back! Omg y’all...I finally have a path to the ending for this fic! After this chapter, I’m planning for there to be 5 more chapters until the end, which will give ID a total of 65 chapters. I’m still working on writing and editing these last chapters, but I’m pretty confident in that timeline :D I also plan to post each Friday again, so there should be chapters now through September 10th, if all goes according to plan. 

PDA

You woke with a smile the next morning, partially because of the happiness filling your chest like a balloon. The other part was because the warm body behind you, accompanied by a rasp of beard on your shoulder and soft lips on your neck, signalled that you weren’t alone. 

The florid orange rays coming in the large windows told you that it was still early, the sun barely risen above the horizon. Turning over onto your other side to face Negan, you took in his tousled hair and heavy-lidded gaze. 

“Mornin’ doll,” he said, voice raspy with sleep. 

“Morning,” you whispered back, pressing a kiss to his irresistible mouth. “No crack-of-dawn meetings today?”

His lips quirked against yours. “Nope, thank fuck,” he murmured, before rolling atop you and spending a good portion of the morning taking you apart with pleasure, then putting you back together piece by piece with cuddles and toe-curling kisses. 

When he later glanced over at the clock and saw that it was almost 10am, he gave a groan and flopped onto his back with a forearm covering his eyes. “Much as I’d love to stay here all day, I gotta go with a couple Saviors to check out one of the nearby outposts. They reported some concerns about their fucking security measures, and also requested a few more men be stationed out there to help divvy up their shifts, so I wanna go see if there’s any fucking issues for myself.”

While you felt a tiny thrill that he was so willing to tell you this information, to let you know about his duties as leader, you also had a moment of worry about him possibly assigning more men out to work the outpost. “Is that the one you brought Simon in from a couple weeks ago?” 

Knowing exactly where your thoughts were headed, he said, “Don’t get your fucking panties in a bunch, doll. If the outpost needs more hands, I was planning to send a couple of my newer Saviors.”

Pleased at this response, you smiled and leaned in close so your mouth was hovering mere millimeters from his, before whispering, “I’m not wearing any panties to get in a bunch.” 

Before he could react, you rolled out of the bed and strode to the bathroom, putting a little extra swing to your hips. The growl and unmistakable rustling sound of sheets being thrown off was your only warning before Negan scooped you up into his arms and marched into the bathroom. 

An hour later and you were both sufficiently clean (after first getting extra dirty against the shower wall), and you saw Negan off from his rooms with a kiss and warning to be careful. He gave an arrogant smirk at that, which got him an eye roll and playful shake of your head as a response. 

You watched as he strode down the hall towards the staircase, shoulders encased in leather and his whistle echoing off the walls. While they’d never dare ask him about it, you couldn’t help but give a little smile at the thought of his men wondering why the hell their usually punctual leader was almost ten minutes late to leave for the outpost...and why he seemed so happy about it.

~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~

Unable to contain your excitement over the events of the night before, you headed over to Ben’s room not long after Negan left. Thankfully he was there, having just returned from finishing up serving breakfast. His roommate was out this time, so you were able to huddle across from one another on his bottom bunk and catch him up on your conversation with Negan.

Ben listened intently, mouth slowly falling further and further open as you went on. When you got to the part about Negan admitting he wanted only you, and called you his partner, Ben let out a whoop of joy and threw his arms around you in a hug. 

“I knew it!” he exclaimed. “That big lug is head over heels for you.” 

The two of you chatted happily for a bit, before you left and wandered back down to your own room. It had felt like forever since you had a chunk of time to just relax in your bed without over analyzing or stressing over something Negan-related. Gone was the weight of that padlocked box of questions, which made both your brain and subconscious very happy. The three of you snuggled up on the bed and spent the next couple of hours finishing your re-read of Harry Potter before it was time to head down to the kitchen for dinner prep. 

Today’s menu consisted of lasagna using leftover deer meat thawed from the freezer, with the signature side of rolls. Trixie had unofficially promoted herself as being in charge of roll duty, making sure the dough was the right consistency and the ovens at the perfect baking temperature. She wasn’t rude about it, but the little bit of authority she showed when instructing another staff member how to properly knead the dough seemed to fulfill her need to be seen as a knowledgeable and important part of the staff. And in all honesty, none of her feedback to the others was incorrect, so rather than reprimand her or say she was out of line, you had caught her eye at one point and given an almost imperceptible nod of approval. This caused her smile to beam so bright that it was a wonder you didn’t need sunglasses. 

As it turned out, you weren’t the only one who had noticed Trixie’s presence and been keeping a stealthy eye on her. Andrew, a member of the food prep crew, had been not-so-subtly following Trixie with his gaze lately, and today was no exception. He was an attractive man in his early 20s with shoulder-length black hair and kind brown eyes, a much more appropriate candidate for Trixie than her previous choice.

It seemed safe to say that Trixie was aware of the attention as well, as she found every reason possible to flounce past where Andrew was busy loading trays of lasagna into an oven. At one point, she even stopped to chat briefly with him, and out of the corner of your eye you saw her toss back her head and laugh at something he said. If it seemed a bit overly dramatic to you, well, Andrew didn’t seem to mind. In fact, her reaction caused him to fumble with the tray of pasta he was holding, almost spilling the entire thing onto the ground. He thankfully saved it at the last second, otherwise you would’ve had to interrupt and lecture the two of them about focusing on their work and not chit-chatting. And you didn’t want to do that, not when Trixie finally seemed interested in a guy more her age who was actually available and seemed to genuinely like her. 

Despite your initial tension with Trixie, you now realized that she had just been struggling to find where she fit in, to feel like an important part of the community. She’d initially been scooped up and led astray by Amber, but thankfully she had found her way back on the correct path and was making progress at getting along with the others, rather than isolating herself and using condescension as an emotional wall. Someone like Andrew, who was kind-hearted and considerate, not to mention absolutely captivated by her, was exactly what she needed. 

Focusing your attention away from young romance and back to meal prep, you spent the next forty-five minutes making sure everything was baked to perfection before sending out the first trays of lasagna and rolls. However, your mind kept randomly returning to Negan, almost unable to contain a secret smile each time you remembered where the two of you now stood. The usual worry and second-guessing had been replaced by the stability of knowing how he felt, and each time you remembered his words from last night a flutter of butterflies went off in your stomach. 

Negan had told you this morning that the outpost he and a small team of men were going to was less than an hour’s drive from the Sanctuary, so he planned to be back around dinnertime. Sure enough, about 20 minutes into when the first round of food was being served, you saw a small group of Saviors enter the cafeteria and settle down at a table. You guessed that they were the ones who had been out on the mini mission, and breathed a sigh of relief at seeing them back safely and with jovial expressions on their faces. You could always tell when things went wrong on a run, due to the overall aura of the men who returned, but this time they were smiling and talking animatedly with one another. Hopefully this also meant that Negan was in a happy, and perhaps affectionate, mood when you went to visit him later...

It was as if your thoughts had conjured the man himself. You were out in the cafeteria with a large water pitcher, making rounds to refill empty glasses for people, when a hush in conversation made you still and look up.

And there he was, standing at the entrance to the cafeteria with his signature leather jacket unzipped just enough so that the edge of a white tee peeked out over the top. He scanned over the tables like a king surveying his domain, looking both intimidating and absolutely delicious with the arrogant way he held himself, as if he had no cares in the world but was also ready to take on anything.

When his eyes landed on you, those sinful lips quirked upwards at the edges, and you swore that even from the distance of half a cafeteria you could see his golden gaze light up at the sight of you. He moved, striding with determination and purpose to close the space between your bodies. The breath caught in your chest at his beauty, at the raw masculinity and almost animal magnetism that surrounded him. 

He stopped mere inches away, and you gazed up at him in both welcome and a bit of confusion. Trying to act calm and unaffected, and not show how much you wanted to grin and launch yourself at him, you said, “Welcome back.” 

Your eyebrow cocked in question when he shook his head with a low chuckle. “Oh no, doll, that won’t do at all.” And with that, he wrapped an arm around your waist and lowered his head...

And kissed you in front of the entire Sanctuary. 

A wave of shock jolted through you, at the same time as your body automatically responded, molding itself to his. Your brain was flatlined on the floor from the unexpected move, while your subconscious ran around it in circles screaming with excitement. 

You could practically feel all the astonished stares from community members, as they watched their all-powerful leader break one of his cardinal rules and kiss you to within an inch of your life. And dear god, what a kiss it was! His lips were firm yet gentle, his tongue just barely tracing your bottom lip, as if he couldn’t help but steal a little taste. He wasn’t holding back, and the primal part of you recognized that he was publicly staking his claim for all to see. There could be no question after this moment that you were his, and that he wanted everyone to know it. 

When he finally pulled back, you could only look up at him with what must’ve been an utterly dazed expression, if his pleased smirk was anything to go by. Glancing to his left and then right, his brow furrowed and expression turned serious as he bellowed, “What the fuck are you all looking at?”

His words had the desired effect, as eyes dropped back to their plates and the community stuttered back to action, obviously trying and failing to act like something monumental didn’t just happen. You’d have given a lot of points to know what they were all thinking, but you didn’t see any angry expressionsand no one had said anything or acted out of line, so hopefully that was a good sign. 

Negan’s warm hand rubbed comfortingly up your bare arm, and it was then that you noticed he didn’t have his gloves on. That also sparked the realization that he wasn’t carrying Lucille, which was strange since he always had her on his person when making an appearance in front of the community. 

Now that you’re thinking about it, did he even have her this morning, when he left?

You thought back to when you had kissed him goodbye and watched as he walked down the hallway. Surely he’d have taken her with him to the outpost...but you honestly couldn’t remember seeing her up over his shoulder. You had to just be forgetting, because there was no way he’d leave her behind. 

That train of thought was brought to a halt when the hand on your arm trailed down along your waist and settled possessively on your hip. “I wanted to put in a request for one of your staff members to bring two servings of dinner to my room, for Simon and yours truly.” 

Before you could ask if he needed time alone once you were done with dinner, he provided the answer. “We need to go over the fucking outpost inspection results, but I’ll come and find you once it’s done.” It was the second time he’d done that today, answering a question before you had the chance to voice it out loud, which was a sign of how well he was coming to predict your thought process. 

You were still a bit in shock at all of this, especially how he was discussing his evening plan with you so publicly and audibly, as if to show that you were more than just his in a physical sense. He was broadcasting to the community that you were what he had already told you last night: his partner. His voice had been low enough that only the nearby tables would’ve heard, but you knew every moment of this interaction would be spread across the entire community within minutes after he left. 

Giving a smile and trying to look like ‘yep, this is completely normal, no big deal, I am totally not internally screaming with joy and wanting to climb his fine ass like a tree’, you replied, “Of course. I’ll have it sent up immediately.”

“Thanks, doll,” he said with a final smirk. Then his face morphed back into the intense, badass expression of the Sanctuary’s leader, and he strode out of the cafeteria. 

You were left standing there, still a bit shell-shocked by what had just occurred, but also giddy as hell over it. That emotional high was only slightly dimmed by the awareness that now, with Negan gone, you were the sole center of everyone’s attention. A quick scan of the cafeteria showed that most community members were trying not to openly stare. However, the lack of chewing and frequent side glances thrown your way as your legs finally unfroze and started back towards the kitchen were proof that they had all seen Negan’s display of affection. 

While the rest of the community might’ve at least been making a feeble attempt not to obviously stare, the same couldn’t be said of the kitchen staff. At least a couple of them must’ve witnessed what happened when serving trays of food, and those members must’ve scurried back to the kitchen to report it to the others. Every single one of them was staring in wide-eyed silence with a mixture of shock and fascinated curiosity when you walked back through the swinging doors. 

Even though your face felt heated and you were a bit off-kilter, you still managed to sound slightly firm when announcing, “Alright folks, back to work. And no, I don’t want to talk about it.”

You breathed a sigh of relief when they didn’t argue, but a couple of them did give knowing grins, Trixie included, though at least they all seemed good-natured about it. Trying to act as though your world hadn’t just been spun off its axis with that public kiss, you went over to Ben, who was the only one that had stayed fairly composed the entire time. In fact, his eyes danced with mirth and he was obviously trying to hold back a smirk, so you felt only minimally evil when telling him of Negan’s request that two servings of dinner be taken up to his rooms for him and Simon. Ben gave a playful glare when you told him to take up the food himself, saying it loud enough that some others heard, making him unable to say no without looking a bit suspect. 

When the tray was ready to go a few minutes later, you quietly murmured to Ben as he passed by on his way out of the kitchen, “Say hi to Simon for me.” The words caused a hint of pink to flare in his cheeks as he gave a halfhearted glare. You almost felt guilty for teasing him, but knew Ben would more than forgive you when Negan came through on his promise to get Simon his own room.  

Though the kitchen staff still threw glances your way here and there, they quickly fell back into their usual routine and no one made any direct comments. You were safe from scrutiny...at least for now. At least no one seemed to have any extreme concerns about what had happened, making you wonder how many of them had suspected what was going on between you and Negan before now.

Once dinner and cleanup were over, you headed back up to your room. Negan had said he would come find you when he was ready, so you planned to just lay back and relax until then. 

Oh, who were you kidding. After that kiss, you were totally going to sit on your bed and think about all the dirty things you wanted to do to him the moment the two of you were alone. 

Trying to convince yourself that you could be at least semi-productive and pretend to have a hobby other than fantasizing about the leader of the Sanctuary, you pulled the copy of Harry Potter off your bedside table. You were just opening to the first page, planning to restart it again from the beginning, when a firm knock sounded at your door. 

Pulse jumping with excitement, you rose from the bed and didn’t even hesitate to cross the room and reach for the doorknob. It never occurred to you that it might be anyone other than Negan, let alone for it to be the last person you’d have ever expected to see at your door. But things had been going so well today that it was almost as if fate was bored with your happiness and wanted to add some drama to the mix. 

Totally ignoring the warning prickle that ran up your spine, you opened the door with a welcome smile. It quickly died on your lips at the sight of who was standing on the other side, hands on hips and eyes throwing daggers your way. 

It was Amber...and she looked pissed.

~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~

[pastelslytherin]

Age range :- I am 16+ .

Gender :- she/her . Straight. Interested in men.

Fandom :- attack on titan

Appearance :- I am around 5'3 . I have wavy blackish brown hair and wheatish skin tone. I am neither chubby nor slender. Big brown eyes and my eyebrows are the best feature of my face.

MBTI :- intj

Personality:- I am very serious and reserved. I am often viewed as cold individual with zero emotions and superiority complex and the 'hard-worker' of the group but people who are close to me are the only ones who get to see my true emotions , funny and sarcastic side.They are the only ones who know how misunderstood I am by others.I am often distant to majority of the people but if I make a friend I will stay with them as long as possible (for years) . I will provide people with best solutions to their problems and can motivate them to achieve their goals. I take my own goals and responsibilities very seriously.In social set ups I do zone out most of the times. I can entirely get heartless and cold if I sense infidelity or lack of loyalty. I get awfully quite and don't address the problem anymore. It is a deal breaker for me. I want the other person to be equally honest, loyal and caring.

Hobbies : books, music (I love music of any kind) , cooking (I am pretty good at it) and ofcourse anime.

Likes:- I love it when people are very passionate about their dreams and work hard for it. I also find it attractive when someone defends their loved ones even if the world is against them. Quite walks in gardens with comfortable silence and long , deep midnight conversations on any topic is my fav. Sarcasm and good humor too.

Dislikes :- gossiping , drama , lies , lack of depth in character , demotivating or harsh words. Crowded places or loud noise (like disco , pubs etc ) and hypocrites.

Love language:- for giving, I don't have a particular one. It depends on what the other person wants. I am happy to show them the kind of affection they want.

I want them to be supportive in my darkest times comforting me with their words, stability of mind and acts of service. physical touch is totally acceptable only in later stage of relationship.

Occupation:- I am from the science and tech field.

That's all about me I guess . Sorry for the too detailed description. 😅

Excited to see my match!

Thanks again pastel! 💕

Hello lostmystery2000! I truly appreciate your request, details and all! I’m so sorry this took forever! I’ve honestly been overwhelmed and hitting a metaphorical wall, and I’m truly sorry that it’s affecting the blog. I hope you are having a lovely day :)

I had trouble picking and choosing characters to match with you so I decided to include an extra potential match :,D

I match you with..

REINER BRAUN

Your reserved nature is calming for Reiner, and he’s glad he could comfortably stay quiet in a room with you. Your presence keeps him grounded because you remind him that he still has a reason to keep moving forward. You’re a thoughtful person who can solve problems, and that is something Reiner needs. As mellow as he can be, he’s still a strongly passionate and determined person. You’re also an attractive couple, your looks compliment his taller and more built figure. 

Even after everything he’s been through, Reiner remains determined to fulfill his responsibilities. He’s a hard worker for his goals, moreso if it’s for the people he loves. This includes you, his family, and his childhood friends. He’s a caring person who’s attracted to even more caring people. Despite your initial quietness, he feels calm with you and he eventually can see how much you feel. He’s very giving as a partner and would do anything for you. He’s patient and attentive to you. Oftentimes, he feels the need to overcompensate and would need plenty of reassurance from you that he’s enough. Overall, your relationship is very calm, steadfast, and supportive. 

Headcanons:

As mentioned before, Reiner is very giving. He’s the type who would always pay for your food, treat you to romantic dates, open doors for you, and more. He would deadsprint to open a door or pull out a chair before you have to lift a finger. If you do acts of service for him, especially if it’s a surprise, he would tear up. He’s such a big man, but he’s not used to being appreciated or valued. 

He’s very supportive of you and your goals, and he wants to be a reliable support for you. When you’re tired or stressed, he would prepare hot baths, dinners, and fluff up your pillows before you go to bed. He’s also big on praising you. 

He was almost scared to touch you or hold your hand during the beginning of your relationship so he would definitely wait to let you initiate the physical contact that you’re comfortable with. The poor boy didn’t think he deserved to have you, but he feels very comforted by your light touches and reassuring words. He would love to cuddle with you if you let him. 

Late night walks with you are calming, and he loves hearing you talk about any subject. He can have very introspective thoughts that he would share with you, and he likes to hear your take on what he’s thinking. 

It’s easy for him to smile around you, you’re like that light at the end of the tunnel for him. He just has that warm tired smile when he realizes how happy he is with you. He might stumble on his words, but he wants to let you know exactly how he feels for you, including every joy and every fear. 

His favorite dates with you are rather humble. More specifically, cooking together. It feels calming to him and he gets to be near you. It’s so domestic, and he loves it. The size difference also makes his heart flutter. He can’t help but notice how your hands are just so small compared to his when he passes you a plate. 

Other potential matches:

Armin Arlert

You and Armin could get along so well on an intellectual level, and you both having pretty calming and quiet hobbies, including reading. He may not give the strongest impression, but he is an intensely passionate soul who has ambitious dreams. Even if his dreams may seem fantastical to most people, he’s steadfast in his goals. And what’s more, he’s realistic and analytical enough that he can achieve his ambitious dreams. Another notable trait is that he is amazingly loyal to the point that he could risk everything if it’s for you. He’s very good at supporting you in your times of need, especially through words. He’ll let you talk out your problems until you come to a solution, he’s very good at understanding your psyche and using that understanding to uplift your spirits. His favorite thing is conversations with you since he thinks that you have a lot of interesting and valuable opinions and knowledge. 

Porco Galliard

Porco is so passionate, loyal, and hard-working. He feels a strong sense of responsibility and feels deeply for his hometown and for the people he cares about, especially you. He gets into an angry fit when people close to him are hurt. He’s not always the sharpest compared to other Warriors like Pieck and Zeke, but he is extremely supportive and caring (as long as you’re not Reiner lol). He can be sarcastic and joking with you, though he means well and is always looking out for you. He loves making you laugh anytime, even on both your good and bad days. Under all his passionate and emotional persona, Porco can have some pretty deep feelings and thoughts that he could share with you honestly. You would be so valuable to him and he’d do anything to see you smile. 

Eren Jaeger

Oh boy, Eren is quite a loaded character, but he could potentially match your tastes. I was hesitant to match anyone with him just because of how insanely intense he could be, but he’s the first one that came to mind when I was reading your request so I didn’t want to exclude him. 

He’s fierce, passionate, and determined. He does anything to follow his dreams and ambitions even if it seems like a neverending chase, and he feels deeply to those he is loyal to. He’s willing to risk his life time and time again to protect people he loves. Even if he becomes the enemy of mankind, he’ll fight through anything to achieve his goals and to keep his special loved ones safe, though he may end up hurting them in the process. His eyes are on the big picture, and for all his grandeur, Eren has so many complex thoughts, feelings, and philosophies, searching for true freedom. Eren would be intensely interested in how you solve problems and would be happy to bounce ideas back and forth with you. Your quiet nature would be great for balancing his unkempt emotions, and maybe he could grow to be a better person because of your thoughtful and steady persona.

———

I hope this was alright!

Please look over this post before submitting a matchup request :) Thanks!