#world wide developers c | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dangerousstrawberryshark · 4 months ago

Text

Happy Family

🇺🇸Pairing(s)🇺🇸→Chris Evans x Single Dad reader ⚠️CW⚠️→no warnings, just fluff. The kid is adopted by the way. 🇺🇸Rating🇺🇸→ Fluff 🇺🇸Requested🇺🇸→ Yes

🇺🇸Word Count🇺🇸→ 1.1k

🇺🇸Summary🇺🇸→ You and Chris have been dating for a year, but you were scared of how Chris would react to you having a child. Long story short, you two are now married.

C/N: Child name

Couldn't find a good GIF of him now so here's a pic.

Today was the day, it should’ve been a wondrous feeling, but you only felt dread. Anxiety rushed through your veins as the time to introduce your boyfriend, Chris Evans, to your adopted son/daughter drew near. You hoped he wouldn’t leave you like the others before him.

You can remember the day you first met him.

It's been two months since you broke up with your ex-boyfriend after finding out he cheated. You thought he was the one after he loved meeting your son/daughter and he was just an amazing person overall. He proved you wrong in a matter of a few minutes.

The cafe was modestly quiet, with people coming in and ordering their drinks and an assortment of sweets. You were moping at one of the tables in the corner, drinking a cup of coffee. You still weren’t over your ex and cried softly so as not to draw attention to yourself.

Then he came into your view.

You were sniffling softly with your head buried in your arms until you heard a chair screeching across from you. Someone was sitting across the table. “You okay? I couldn’t help but notice you crying.” A deep voice said, looking up to see who it was, you were smacked across the face by how handsome the man was.

He had an oval face with a wide forehead, well balanced with the glasses complimenting his features. A notable facial feature would be the man’s facial hair. It looked bushy but well-maintained with hints of grey hairs along the brown. He had slicked-back hair that went back to the top of his nape.

You then realize you’ve been staring for too long. “Y-yeah… I’m okay, just going through things,” you replied while looking away until the flustered feeling went away. You then hear him let out a deep chuckle, only causing you to blush in return. A hot man decides to come and speak when you’re not looking your best… you just wanted to die.

“You don’t look good, it's usually good to talk to others when something is wrong. My name is Chris, Chris Evans, by the way.” Now you know the name of this stranger, Chris Evans, and it fits perfectly with him. You were hesitant about talking to Chris, but he looked trustworthy so you began talking with him.

Chris listened to everything– besides you having a kid– and gave his opinions. It all boiled down to, “It wasn’t your fault and you shouldn’t feel like you did anything wrong.” and other things. Those words coming from him made you smile.

From that day forward, you two always met at the cafe until Chris gave you his number. You then started hanging out and doing various things together, and that’s how you started developing feelings. You refrained from telling Chris these feelings, not wanting to ruin the friendship dynamic, and you doubted a man like Chris was gay or bisexual.

“I was wondering if you would like to go out with me, like an actual date.”

That sent earthquakes rumbling through your world. Your heart fluttered with happiness and you agreed to the date. After you both went on dates, your son/daughter could notice your old self returning. They began asking questions and poking for answers, maybe since they were a child and could see everything.

After numerous dates, Chris made it official, asking you to be his boyfriend. You got excited and jumped into Chris’s arms. You smile when you feel Chris’s large arms wrapping around your body, pulling you closer into his embrace.

That leads to the situation now.

You weren’t sure how Evans would react, but he always talked about wanting kids—even if they were adopted since you both are men. Chris was passionate but said, “Only if you’re ready.” It's now or never, either way, Evans was going to find out one way or another.

Evans was asked to come to your house to talk about something important. He felt his heart drop, thinking that you wanted to break up with him but he pushed those thoughts aside. When he arrived at your place; he was met with you sitting on the couch with a young child on the side, kicking their legs before looking up and smiling.

“Are you my dad’s boyfriend? You won’t leave?” the kid said as they ran up, circling him as they inspected him. Chris felt his smile falter at the end of what the kid said. He remembers you telling him what happened with your last relationship. He wasn’t going to be like your ex.

You began explaining everything to Chris, saying how they’re adopted, likes and dislikes, and other things. “This is c/n. They’re my adopted son/daughter.” Chris smiled, his heart swelling as he gave his hand out and introduced himself.

Chris was an amazing father. He showed your child the love they needed, took them places, and gave them the things they wanted when you couldn’t provide. He also reprimanded them when they acted bad or did something. Overall, he was an amazing parent.

You have so many memories now, seeing Chris carrying C/n on his shoulders, pictures of them at amusement parks, beaches, aquariums, etc. Now, it seems like you have the family you always wanted, but you’re not husbands… yet.

“Will you marry me?” Chris said as he got on one knee and pulled out a ring. C/n was throwing rose petals as Chris was giving his proposal speech. Tears start welding in your eyes. Chris looked handsome like this, wearing a suit, every part of him groomed.

“Yes, I will.” You said as tears rolled down your face while Chris put the ring on your finger. You examine it before hugging Evans, his large hands stroking your back.

“I have two dads now!”

XX(Timeskip 3 years)XX

Every part of your body was hurting. Your damn boss was working you to the bone, which you’ll probably complain about in your resignation letter. When you opened the door, you were met with the sight of Chris sleeping on the couch.

Next to him was c/n sleeping as well. They must have been watching a Disney movie before falling asleep. You smiled, putting your stuff down, walking to the two, and kissing them on the forehead.

“I love you both.”

THE END

A/n: hello, my strawberries! Round two of fics beginning this year! At this rate, I’ll maybe be done in June or July. Very special thanks to @sagethegaywitch

TAGLIST: @spnfanboy777 @meyocoko @buckyshusband0 @mack-thedork @sluttyhusband @wolf-knights @zamfam4272 @ghostking4m @maxxioislost @furiousflowercreation

#x male reader #male reader #male reader insert #male reader imagine #chris evans #chris evans x male reader #chris evans imagine #gay #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans fluff #chris evans fic

201 notes · View notes

gsirvitor · 24 days ago

Note

youre just another degenerate sex obsessed moid that thinks hes the smartest tard in the room. but youre not. youre not well read on shit and its embarrassing. there are not 4 subspecies of race. actually read the literature you 19th century larping idiot

I actually studied forensic anthropology, there are four major morphological groupings that are Caucasoid, Mongoloid, Negroid and Australoid.

These aren't racial groupings, as I said, these are the morphological features found across geographic areas.

Caucasoid covers the native peoples of Europe, the Middle East, India, and North Africa.

Mongoloid covers the native peoples of Asia, North, South and Central America, and parts of Oceania.

Negroid covers the native peoples of Sub Saharan Africa, and the Sentinel Islands.

Australoid covers the native peoples of Indo-Oceania.

Racial classifications can further break down these morphological groups, showing not just environmental morphological changes, but significant genetic drift between geographic populations.

Now, I've gone over this before, but I will do it again, and again and again, so why not do so now.

These racial differences in skeletal structure arose when small genetic changes developed in populations isolated by geography.

As world travel increases and people of different racial backgrounds intermix and produce children, it becomes harder to differentiate individuals of different, smaller races.

However there are key features that help forensic anthropologists identify these morphological groupings;

We will refer to the groupings as C, N, and M, for brevity.

C's tend to have smaller teeth, often with significant crowding and impacted third molars, and frequently exhibiting an overbite.

N's rarely have crowding and the upper teeth often project outwards due to the angled shape of the maxilla.

M's have well spaced teeth but often exhibit sclerosed dentition—when calcium deposits build up inside the tooth, thinning the root canal—leaving teeth loose within the mandible and easily cracked.

The hard palate is the bony structure at the top of the mouth bordered by the upper teeth.

In M's, the palate is elliptical, with the ‘U’ shape angling in at the back teeth.

In N's, the palate is hyperbolic, a perfect ‘U’ shape with straight lines.

And in C's, the palate is parabolic with the ends of the ‘U’ flaring outwards.

The transverse palatine suture that horizontally transects the palate also varies by race: It is straight in M's, curved in N's, and a jagged line in C's.

The shape of the incisors is the most important indicator of race in the teeth.

In M's, the incisors are shovel-shaped, named because the inner surface is scooped or curved.

Both N's and C's have blade-form incisors where the tooth has a flat profile.

The nose provides multiple race indicators.

In C's, the nasal aperture is long and narrow, with a high bridge and a sharp nasal sill.

In N's, the nasal aperture is short and wide with a low bridge and a guttered or trough-like nasal sill.

In M's, the nasal aperture is medium-sized with both a medium bridge and nasal sill.

The shape of the mastoid process differs between the races.

In N's, the bony projection is wide, in C's it is narrow and pointed, and in M's, a secondary smaller projection forms on the back surface of the mastoid process.

Here we can see the differences between the morphological groups, A belongs to the C's, B belongs to the N's and C belongs to the M's.

With the skulls compared we can see further differences.

The C's have less pronounced cheek bones and exhibit elongated chins.

Nasal openings are triangular shaped with a more pronounced (protruding) nasal bridge.

The eye orbits are rectangular in shape, resembling aviator sunglasses, and somewhat sloped when viewed from the front. The teeth are smaller in comparison to other skull types and set closely together.

The M's cheek bones are wide, flare out to the sides of the skull and are forward-sloping.

The eye orbits are rounded and don't have the same downward slope as the C's skull does.

The nasal opening is flared at the bottom, making it wider than the C's skull, and has a less pronounced nasal bridge.

The N's skull is longer from front to back and has more of a forward slope from forehead to chin.

The slope causes a protrusion of the jaw, also referred to as prognathism.

The eye orbits are rectangular and spaced farther apart with a wider nasal bridge, which is less pronounced than the C or M types.

The nasal opening is also broader.

That doesn't mean all of these indicators point firmly to a single race, instead, it is the story told by the majority of morphological characteristics that tell an individual's background.

Additional skeletal features can help indicate race as well, bone density can also be a factor.

Bone density is quite a bit higher in N's, M's tend to have bone density that is as low or even lower than C's.

Though, some C's have bone density that is a little bit higher than usual.

Differences in fracture risk between different racial and ethnic groups are very real because of this.

The information gathered by a forensic anthropologist concerning age, sex and race can lead criminal investigators to a narrowed missing persons search and hopefully to a definitive victim identification.

However, I will agree with you, we shouldn't use race as the term to differentiate between each other, the term subspecies is more accurate.

While yes, we are one species, we are also each members of different subspecies belonging to the one species known as Homo Sapiens.

Subspecies are typically defined as geographical races with allopatric or parapatric distributions.

Allopatric speciation occurs when a species separates into two separate groups that are isolated from one another.

A physical barrier, such as a mountain range or a waterway, makes it impossible for them to breed with one another.

Parapatric speciation occurs when a smaller population is isolated, usually at the periphery of a larger group, and becomes differentiated to the point of becoming a new species.

Phenotype refers to an individual's Observable characteristics or traits, such as height, eye colour and blood type determined by both their genomic makeup and environmental factors, such as diet, disease, exercise.

The idea is that for populations to be considered subspecies, their phenotypes must be diagnosably distinct, and they are across the four major groupings, that being Caucasoid, Mongoloid, Negroid, and Australoid.

So, as I said before;

Caucasoid covers the morphological groupings of the peoples that are native to Europe, North Africa, the Middle East, and India.

Mongoloid covers the morphology groupings of the peoples that are native to Asia, the Pacific Islands, North and South America.

Negroid covers the morphological groupings of the peoples that are native to Sub-Saharan Africa, and the Sentinelese.

Australoid covers the morphological grouping of the people native to Australia, New Zealand, and Papau New Guinea.

Forensic Anthropology can be used to determine your ancestry, your sex, age, health, diseases you may have suffered, lifestyle, and race, I will make use of the term subspecies to refer to others race, I will as it'll be more accurate.

As race, is defined as one's geographical phenotype, and does not refer to our species as a whole, but geographical, morphological subsets of said species.

Homo Sapiens Africanus.

Homo Sapiens Indo-Europa.

Homo Sapiens Asiaticus.

Homo Sapiens Australis.

If you want to combat my arguments, I'd suggest taking the time to actually do your own research on the subject rather than flinging surface level insults.

Now, if you want to know why I didn't mention the Australoid differences, here's why;

Looks like a fucking Neanderthal's skull, but no, that's a modern Australian Aboriginal skull next to a European skull.

Look at that, and tell me racial differences are only skin deep, fucking hell, it's not like I spent money to study this shit, no, clearly some random feminist anon thinks she's more educated with her 2 second google search.

Fucking hell.

111 notes · View notes

whencyclopedia · 2 months ago

Photo

Uruk

Uruk was one of the most important cities (at one time, the most important) in ancient Mesopotamia. According to the Sumerian King List, it was founded by King Enmerkar c. 4500 BCE. Uruk is best known as the birthplace of writing c. 3200 BCE as well as for its architecture and other cultural innovations.

Located in the southern region of Sumer (modern day Warka, Iraq), Uruk was known in the Aramaic language as Erech which, it is believed, gave rise to the modern name for the country of Iraq, though another likely derivation is Al-Iraq, the Arabic name for the region of Babylonia. The city of Uruk is most famous for its great king Gilgamesh and the epic tale of his quest for immortality but also for a number of firsts in the development of civilization which occurred there.

It is considered the first true city in the world, the origin of writing, the first example of architectural work in stone and the building of great stone structures, the origin of the ziggurat, and the first city to develop the cylinder seal which the ancient Mesopotamians used to designate personal property or as a signature on documents. Considering the importance the cylinder seal had for the people of the time, and that it stood for one's personal identity and reputation, Uruk could also be credited as the city which first recognized the importance of the individual in the collective community.

The city was continuously inhabited from its founding until c. 300 CE when, owing to both natural and man-made influences, people began to desert the area. By this time, it had depleted natural resources in the surrounding area and was no longer a major political or commercial power. It lay abandoned and buried until excavated in 1853 by William Loftus for the British Museum.

The Uruk Period

The Ubaid Period (c. 5000-4100 BCE) when the so-called Ubaid people first inhabited the region of Sumer is followed by the Uruk Period (4100-2900 BCE) during which time cities began to develop across Mesopotamia and Uruk became the most influential. The Uruk Period is divided into 8 phases from the oldest, through its prominence, and into its decline based upon the levels of the ruins excavated and the history which the artifacts found there reveal. The city was most influential between 4100-c.3000 BCE when Uruk was the largest urban center and the hub of trade and administration.

In precisely what manner Uruk ruled the region, why and how it became the first city in the world, and in what manner it exercised its authority is not fully known. Scholar Gwendolyn Leick writes:

The Uruk phenomenon is still much debated, as to what extent Uruk exercised political control over the large area covered by the Uruk artifacts, whether this relied on the use of force, and which institutions were in charge. Too little of the site has been excavated to provide any firm answers to these questions. However, it is clear that, at this time, the urbanization process was set in motion, concentrated at Uruk itself. (183-184)

Since the city of Ur had a more advantageous placement for trade, further south toward the Persian Gulf, it would seem to make sense that city, rather than Uruk, would have wielded more influence but this is not the case.

Artifacts from Uruk appear at virtually every excavated site throughout Mesopotamia and even in Egypt. The historian Julian Reade notes:

Perhaps the most striking example of the wide spread of some features of the Uruk culture consists in the distribution of what must be one of the crudest forms ever made, the so-called beveled-rim bowl. This kind of bowl, mould-made and mass-produced, is found in large numbers throughout Mesopotamia and beyond. (30)

This bowl was the means by which workers seem to have been paid: by a certain amount of grain ladled into a standard-sized bowl. The remains of these bowls, throughout all of Mesopotamia, suggest that they “were frequently discarded immediately after use, like the aluminum foil containing a modern take-away meal” (Reade, 30). So popular was the beveled-rim bowl that manufacturing centres sprang up throughout Mesopotamia extending as far away from Uruk as the city of Mari in the far north. Because of this, it is unclear if the bowl originated at Uruk or elsewhere (though Uruk is generally held as the bowl's origin). If at Uruk, then the beveled-rim bowl must be counted among the many of the city's accomplishments as it is the first known example of a mass-produced product.

#History #1853 #30 #Akkad #WHE #[#]

112 notes · View notes

bonefall · 27 days ago

Note

I've seen your discourse about holstein.

Pun not intended, but is there any other cow races you've beef with ? And what do you think of the limousine, if you've any opinion on it.

The Limousine is mid.

Solid-colored cow that used to be a great working breed that could also be good meat at the end of its life, but has been intensively bred for the past century to be nothing but food.

They're a really common meat breed in the modern day, but they're only "good" because of modern fertilizers and grain feeding. France is actually the most nature-depleted country in Europe, and the """improvement""" of breeds like the Limousine is one of the reasons why it's so bad there.

My cow endorsements are for hardy, environmentally low-impact breeds which are well adapted to the regions they live in. I also personally give points for unique traits and genes, interesting patterning, and intelligence. Limousines have none of these.

I can't hate them like I do some other breeds, though. They're healthy, grow fast, and they produce good meat. I simply don't have many good things to say about them. Lame.

A different breed I DO have beef with though? Belgian Blues.

They took a perfectly good cow with a gorgeous blue coat and turned it into something out of Akira. Through INTENSE inbreeding, a gene for double muscling has been forced into this breed, turning them into these stomach-churning FurAffinity rejects.

You may have seen them called "super cows," but I think they're more like Frankenstein's Monster. They were literally created in a lab, in the 1950s, at an artificial insemination center. Their "myostatin" gene is broken, so their skeletal muscles grow to double the size that they should be.

The good news is that, thankfully, these animals don't seem to be in any chronic pain. Myostatin-related muscle hypertrophy in humans does not hurt, nor lead to secondary health problems. It's been studied in lots of animals, too, and they seem to be able to live healthy lives.

The bad news is;

They are UNABLE to give birth on their own and need c-sections to have calves.

Their necks are so stiff that bulls can have a hard time turning their heads.

Some calves are born with tongues so large they can't suckle.

The myostatin gene prevents them from developing good fat distribution, so they freeze to death easily.

Their skin is thinner than usual, too, so they're susceptible to parasites

They're bad grazers and need supplemental feed, so they have a larger impact on the environment.

Btw, as a comparison, here is what the original dual purpose Belgian Blue is supposed to look like.

We had a GOOD COW going, BELGIUM! It was BLUE! We had all the MILK AND MEAT WE NEEDED. And you just had to go and BLOW IT UP. YOU AND YOUR PRIDE AND YOUR EGO.

Luckily, modern Belgian Blues are not economically viable. The fact they need so much medical care and maintenance makes them more of a "status symbol" breed than one that will actually get adopted on a wide scale. THANKFULLY we're not working against market forces for this one.

But I think we need to go further. I think people who breed or advocate for modern Belgian Blues should have tomatoes thrown at them. I yearn for a world where every time one of those double-muscled beasts is shown at a livestock event, the audience loudly cringes.

I am pro-bullying but ONLY for Belgian Blue breeders. That is my beef.

#cow lore detour #cows #cattle

139 notes · View notes

hyperfixatedoncrimminalminds · 1 year ago

Note

ok i was thinking about a fanfic where Spencer (probably a single dad) has a daughter (13-14) like tina belcher from bobs burgers, i just imagine they’d both be so awkward (and definitely autistic) and they’d both have glasses. But while Reid can talk lots and can get excited easily about things, she’s like the opposite, imagine her meeting the team

Spencer Reid X Autistic Daughter Reader

Request : ok i was thinking about a fanfic where Spencer (probably a single dad) has a daughter (13-14) like tina belcher from bobs burgers, i just imagine they’d both be so awkward (and definitely autistic) and they’d both have glasses. But while Reid can talk lots and can get excited easily about things, she’s like the opposite, imagine her meeting the team

Third person pov...

In the quiet suburban town of Quantico, Virginia, there lived a man named Spencer Reid. He was a brilliant criminal profiler, working for the Behavioural Analysis Unit (BAU) of the FBI.

Spencer was known for his encyclopaedic knowledge, his ability to connect the dots, and his unwavering dedication to his work.

Spencer had a daughter, Y/N, who was around 13-14 years old. She was a carbon copy of her father in many ways, with her glasses and her love for knowledge.

However, unlike her father, Y/N was a shy and introverted girl, who found it difficult to express herself. She was often compared to Tina Belcher from Bob's Burgers, as they both shared a similar awkwardness and a penchant for the unusual.

Y/N's quiet demeanour was a stark contrast to her father's animated personality. Spencer could talk for hours about his latest research or a new theory he had developed, while Y/N would prefer to spend her time reading or drawing.

Despite their differences, the two shared a deep bond, and Spencer was fiercely protective of his daughter.

It was a calm Saturday after weeks of cases the team had a couple days off, which pleased the Dr greatly, happy to spend time with his daughter,

Y/N.

The last one had been hard, a woman was going around killing young girls who reminded her of her high schools' bullies, Spencer couldn't wait to get home and see his daughter, they had called every night.

The two were currently sitting in the living room on the sofa, Spencer was reading a book, leaning against the arm of the sofa and his daughter next to him she was sketching in her sketchbook, she was exceptionally good.

Spencer smiled when his daughter showed him her drawing, he loved it when she showed him what she was drawing, her sketches are incredibly detailed. "Amazing N/N" he comments making his daughter smile and continue drawing.

In the background classical music played, neither liked a silent background so music was necessary. As they spent the quiet morning together around lunch Spencer received a call from his boss, Aaron Hotchner.

"Hotch is there a case?" he asks having stood up from the sofa.

He watched his daughter continue to draw, a smile still on his face. She was in her own world now "Hi Reid, not a case but I was hoping you could bring Y/N in" Spencer was confused.

He stands near the kitchen. "I could, be there soon" the two then end the call, Hotch had explained that there was an important case that required the team's immediate attention, and Hotch believed that Y/N's unique perspective could be valuable.

He then walked back over to his daughter, now to tell her they are leaving. "Hey N/N, want to come to my work with me?" He asks the girl.

This made the H/C girl look up from her sketchbook, E/C eyes wide. "Really" she asks, she always wanted to go to her dad work, she loves the job he does and all the caseshe solves.

Spencer was surprised. Usually Y/N doesn't like new places. "You do?"He asks the girl, Y/N grins at him. "Want to see where you work" she tells him.

Spencer laughs and pulls her in for a hug, one thing about Y/N is she loves hugs mainly the pressure from them. "Great, go get ready we need to leave soon" He tells her.

The teen then runs off to her room to get her things, once ready the father and daughter leave the apartment and make their way to the FBI headquarters.

As they entered the BAU office, Y/N was immediately overwhelmed by the bustling activity and the presence of her father's colleagues. She clung to Spencer's arm; her eyes wide behind her glasses.

Spencer helped her calm down by handing her headphones, Y/N quickly took them and put them on, the noise canceling happening immediately.

This made her feel calmer, but didn't let go of her Dad. The two find the rest of the team standing and chatting to each other about the case.

"Hey pretty boy" calls Derek, this made the rest turn to the two reids, Penelope instantly turns to the girl next to the young doctor. "Who's that with you Baby genius?" She asks waving at the teen.

Y/N looks down at the floor, avoiding the gazes of the team. "Guys this is Y/N my daughter" he explains, the team is shocked.

Derek wraps an arm around Spencer. "Pret-ty boy, how come you never told us you have a kid?" He asks.

The young Dr blushes and shrugs the arm off him. "Because you didn't ask" he grumbles, making Derek raise his hands and back away from him.

The team was initially taken aback by

Y/N's quiet demeanour, but they soon realized that her unique perspective was indeed valuable.

As they discussed the case, Y/N offered insights that the others had not considered, drawing on her vast knowledge of human behaviour and her keen observational skills.

Over time, Y/N began to open up to the team, sharing her thoughts and ideas more freely. She found a kindred spirit in Penelope Garcia.

who appreciated Y/N's love for all things geeky and her passion for learning. The two bonded over their shared interests, and Y/N began to feel more comfortable in the BAU office.

As the team worked together to solve the case, Y/N's confidence grew. She began to speak up more often, offering her insights and ideas without hesitation.

Her father watched with pride as his daughter blossomed, finding her voice in the midst of the BAU team.

In the end, the team successfully solved the case, thanks in part to Y/N's unique perspective.

As they celebrated their victory, Y/N stood alongside her father and the rest of the team, her glasses slightly askew and a smile on her face. She had found her place among the BAU team, and she knew that she would always be welcome there.

From that day forward, Y/N became a regular fixture at the BAU office, offering her insights and ideas to help solve the most challenging cases.

And though she was still quiet and introverted, she had found her voice, and she knew that she could have influence in the world.

The end!

Hope you liked this oneshot, so sorry for the wait! Sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes.

Requests are open!

Word count: 1170

#criminal minds #fanfic #behavioural analysis unit #fluff and comfort #oneshot #x teen!reader #x daughter!reader #father daughter fluff #x autistic teen reader #spencer reid x daughter!reader #spencer reid #spencer reid is autistic #spencer reid x autistic teen reader #spencer reid x autistic daughter reader #meet the team

309 notes · View notes

redroomreflections · 4 months ago

Text

Hotel California | Track 14 : Between the Stars

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha Romanoff, frontwoman of the punk rock band Velvet Rebellion, falls hard for a woman she believes is too good for her. Their intense relationship unfolds in the chaotic world of rock 'n' roll, where they struggle to balance fame, personal demons, and their undeniable passion for each other.

W/c: 5.7k

Chapter 14/18

Masterlist | General Masterlist

Note: This is a span of a couple days in their lives.

Themes: love, fame, sex, drugs

You're sitting in the hair and makeup chair with Cece, your stylist, and a lifelong friend, and you’re kind of nervous. You thought you could handle things like this. After all, you’ve been around Hollywood’s elite for most of your life. You’re a decent performer, a great publicist, and you’ve always been good at working a room. Public speaking? No problem. Memorizing a script or delivering a speech? Easy. You’d probably do well at the whole celebrity thing. So, why does this have you on edge?

This press run has been something out of a dream—an opportunity for which you’re genuinely grateful. But still, your nerves buzz under your skin. You’d had a taste of fame before, back when you won that Grammy for songwriting, but this? This feels different. Your frontal lobe’s fully developed now. You’re painfully aware of every word, every glance, every judgment. And this time, the spotlight isn’t on your work. It’s on you—and something as personal as your relationship.

You try to focus as Cece chats about some new trend on a social media app you’re not even on. Her hands move precisely, sectioning your hair while Cole, your makeup artist, preps your skin. The two of them work in sync, and you feel utterly pampered. Every brushstroke and spritz is meant to make you shine. But even under their care, the knot in your stomach doesn’t unravel.

You smile at Cece’s story, pretending to keep up, but your mind wanders. You remind yourself you’re here for a reason.

Promote the single. Promote Velvet Rebellion's new album.

******

The softly lit studio is quiet and intimate. The setup is personal— a solid background, two chairs angled toward each other, and a table between them. Natasha is already sitting, effortlessly poised. She leaned back in her chair, the picture of laid-back confidence. Her faded red Rolling Stones shirt peeked out from under a well-loved leather jacket, paired with black jeans that clung just right and boots that had seen some stories. Everything about her was effortless, cool, and completely her. You couldn't hide your approval of the outfit as you complimented her.

"You look so good, baby," you cooed. "I love the leather."

She smiled at the compliment and watched as you sat down.

"Thank you," she said. "And you," she continued, "You look like a fucking dream. As always."

You wore a fitted button-down with rolled sleeves and wide-leg pants. There was just enough cleavage to be tempting, but it was the way the shirt hugged your curves and the pants draped around your ass that had her eyes glued to you.

"You know, we need to go shopping together more often," you said, "If you're going to show up looking this good."

"Well, it's not like you don't look good in everything." She paused for a moment.

"You're such a charmer," You laughed. "Shall we get into this whole interview thing?"

Natasha smirked, "Let's. Do you want to go first, or shall I?"

"Oh, you should start." You said. "Since you're the famous one."

Natasha let out a laugh, "Alright, famous one it is. " She shuffled her cards around. "Can your partner cook? What's their favorite dish?"

"Hmm, it's a little debatable whether or not you can cook yet," you answered. "You have some potential, but I don't think you've mastered anything."

"I'm getting there."

"Well, you've gotten a lot better. Anyway, your favorite is mac and cheese. Kraft, to be specific."

"It's comfort food."

"Yes, yes. I know," You looked at the camera. "She's lectured me on it a few times since I don't consider it a meal."

"And she's wrong," Nat said.

"Let's move on," You grinned. "What's their favorite TV show?" You took a moment to think. "Hmm, I think Natasha loves The Nanny. That's a classic, and we watch it together some nights. Right now, she's binging Sons of Anarchy."

"And what's yours?"

"Ooh, I'm a little embarrassed to say it. Mine's Pretty Little Liars. I know, I know. It's a bit juvenile, but there's no shame in guilty pleasure shows."

Natasha smiled, "I've seen an episode or two. Not my thing, but I can appreciate a good plot line."

"I guess the next question is," Nat continued. "Who's more likely to be late?"

"Natasha is."

"And Y/n is." She countered.

"Okay, okay. Maybe we're both a little late sometimes," You said. "Ohh, this is a deep one. How's your partner's relationship with their siblings? I guess we can answer for each other."

"You talk to your brother at least once a week, and I know you miss him," She tilted her head. "Your sister, you're quite close to her, too. I haven't met either of them yet, as they're both on opposite ends of the world."

"Yes, Chandra is in New York being her hot fashion model self," you nodded, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "Michael is somewhere in Europe right now with his wife and kids. They're travelers. Natasha's pretty close to her little sister, too. I think we both have pretty solid family units."

"Next question," Natasha said, glancing down at her cue card with a playful smirk. "Favorite quality about your partner. This one's easy for me. Y/n is incredibly supportive and nurturing. She's also a little badass. It's a sexy combination. I love that she can go from a power suit and killer heels to leggings and a messy bun in minutes and still be the same beautiful, confident, and powerful person. When we got together, I was attracted to her confidence and brains. She's still the same person she was when we first met—no Hollywood surprises with her."

"Wow, Tash," you said with a smile that softened your entire face. "You're too sweet. I don’t know how you do it, but somehow, you always make me melt." You paused, glancing at Natasha with a quiet reverence. "For me, Natasha is kind. And I don’t just mean she’s a nice person. There are perceptions you have when dating someone of status—whether they're a musician, athlete, or executive. Natasha is not only kind and considerate, but she’s humble. She’s real. What I love most about her is how she makes me feel safe. Not just physically safe but emotionally. I know I can tell her anything, and she won’t judge me or hurt me. She’ll always be honest with me. I think that’s why her music resonates so much. Especially our single, Obvious."

The perfect tie-in to the song—a natural choice and one that felt authentic coming from you. It left Natasha glowing, her smile stretching just a little wider.

"You're making me blush," She teased.

"I'm not even done yet," You smiled. "Natasha is smart. She is not just book-smart; she has a way of reading people that I find fascinating. And she's thoughtful. She thinks about the little things—like getting me a drink or bringing me my favorite candy after a long day at work. Or leave me a little note with my coffee in the morning."

Natasha looked bashful for a moment.

"You're one to talk," she said. "Y/n is... she's everything."

She reached over and grabbed your hand, squeezing gently.

"I can't believe I'm so lucky to call her mine."

You gave her a wistful smile. "This whole interview is going to be a love fest."

"I don't mind," Nat grinned. “I’m sure the fans won’t either.”

"Me neither." You shuffled your cards. "I don't remember whose turn it is. What are your significant other's vices?"

"Oh boy," Natasha said. "She has a lot."

"I do not!"

"Okay, you don't. But let's see if we're talking about the good ones. She'll eat any sweets. Any. I'm surprised her teeth aren't rotten by now. And she can drink anyone under the table, no matter how hard they try."

"I've seen her get through an entire bottle of vodka and still sing the entirety of 'Total Eclipse of the Heart' perfectly," you said.

"Y/n doesn't have many bad habits. But, if I had to pick one, I'd say she likes to sleep in."

"I'd argue with that, but that's not a vice," You said. "My biggest vice is staying up too late. And sleeping in," You admitted, earning a laugh from Natasha.

"It's a miracle we get any sleep together," Natasha quipped.

"Alright, alright," You chuckled. "Favorite feature about your partner?"

"Oh, this is the one that made me pick these cards," She grinned.

"Is that so?"

"It is," Nat confirmed. "I don't know if I can pick a favorite. But if I had to choose, I'd say her smile. It lights up the room."

You were smiling, but not as wide as when she'd answered the question.

"That's sweet," You sighed. "I thought you were going to say my ass."

"I can't not say it, babe," Natasha said. "Your ass is... wow. It's a work of art."

"Well, I'll take that," You laughed.

"What's mine?" She asked.

"Easy," You replied. "Your eyes."

"Yeah?"

"Definitely. They're so expressive. Like, I can tell how you're feeling without even hearing you. And they're so green."

"That's the second time today you've made me blush," Natasha said with a small, sheepish smile, brushing a thumb over the edge of her cue card.

"Oh, there's a lot more where that came from," you teased, grinning as you shifted slightly in your seat. "We're only halfway through this interview."

"I'm not complaining," Natasha replied, the corners of her lips quirking up. She glanced down at the next question. "Next question. What is something your partner does that drives you crazy?"

"You know, it's funny," you started, tilting your head as you thought about it. "Natasha is so quiet at home. She's like a little cat that sneaks up on you. In another life, she could be a spy or something."

Natasha's laugh was warm and unguarded. "You know I've had a few offers."

"No kidding."

"No, seriously," she said, leaning forward slightly, her tone suddenly playful but sincere. "A few of my friends in the business have suggested it. But that's not something I'd do."

"Why not?" you asked, curiosity lighting up your face.

"Because I wouldn’t want to keep secrets," Natasha explained, her voice softening. "From you. From my family. Friends. I'm a pretty open book."

"Yeah, that's understandable."

The rest of the interview went smoothly, with questions and answers flowing easily. It was fun, and it was comfortable. By the time you finished, you felt more confident and at ease.

When the cameras stopped rolling and the lights were turned off, you stood, smoothing your shirt before contacting Natasha.

"Good job, babe," You said.

"You, too."

She hugged you, wrapping her arms around you and pressing her lips against your temple.

"Thank you," she murmured.

You closed your eyes and breathed in her scent, letting it wash over you, calming the butterflies in your stomach.

"What do you think?"

"I think we did well," Natasha replied.

"So, I did okay? My public speaking skills haven't gone completely out the window?"

"I was worried about nothing," Natasha said, a gentle chuckle escaping her.

"Oh, shut up," You rolled your eyes.

"I mean it. You did great."

"Thanks, Tash."

She smiled and leaned in to kiss you. You responded immediately, your lips parting slightly, letting her taste their sweetness.

"Hey," she murmured. "Let's get out of here. I want to spend some alone time with my girl."

You couldn't help the smile that tugged at your lips, and you squeezed her hand.

"That sounds perfect."

"Not so fast, you two," Mitch stopped the both of you. "I still have a few TikTok posts that our social media manager wants to do."

"Seriously?"

"Sorry, it's not that bad," Mitch said. "You know the drill, Natasha. Let's get this over with. Then, you can go home and enjoy the rest of your night."

"Alright," Natasha agreed. "I'm going to have a drink after this," She said, pulling out her phone. "Let's do this."

Back in the dressing room is where the magic began.

You leaned against the wall, arms crossed loosely, as Natasha rolled her eyes with good-natured exasperation. Mitch handed her the phone, already queued up with the latest TikTok trend featuring one of the songs from Velvet Rebellion's album.

"This one’s easy," Ellisa, the social media manager for Velvet Rebellion, said, demonstrating a quick series of gestures. Natasha raised a skeptical brow at Mitch, watching the screen like she was analyzing a mission briefing.

"I feel like I’m too old for this," she muttered, passing the phone back to Elissa.

"You’re not old, Tash," you teased. "You’re seasoned. There’s a difference."

She shot you a mock glare, but the slight smirk on her lips gave her away. "Careful, or you’ll be joining me in this dance."

You laughed and held up your hands. "No way. I’m just here for moral support—and to thoroughly enjoy watching you do this."

Natasha sighed dramatically but started moving, mimicking the dance as best she could. Her moves were precise but slightly stiff, her usual grace overshadowed by the awkward rhythm of trying to keep up with a trend meant for teenagers.

"Is this even right?" she asked, glancing at Mitch.

"Close enough," Mitch replied, barely holding back a laugh.

You couldn’t help it; you started giggling; the sight of Natasha—usually so calm and composed—fumbling through exaggerated arm movements and head bobs was pure gold.

"Stop laughing!" she said, her voice laced with amusement as she paused mid-dance to point at you.

"I can’t help it! You’re just… too serious about it."

She cracked then, laughing along with you. "I’m serious because I don’t want this to haunt me on the internet forever."

"Trust me, no one’s going to be laughing at you," you said, still smiling. "Except maybe me. Forever."

Natasha finally finished the dance, breathing a relieved "Thank God" as Mitch nodded in approval.

"Perfect. That’s a wrap," Mitch said, pocketing the phone.

Natasha walked over to you, shaking her head. "You enjoyed that way too much."

"Every second of it," you admitted, still grinning. "But you looked adorable."

"Adorable wasn’t the vibe I was going for," she said, wrapping an arm around your waist.

"Well, too bad. It suits you."

*********

A simple coffee run wasn’t simple. Not when you were Natasha Romanoff. Even something as mundane as picking up her favorite drink from the shop down the street turned into an event. Cameras clicked. Voices called out. There was no privacy, no room for messy buns or sweatpants. Not when every step outside was under public scrutiny.

Natasha walked out of the little café with a drink carrier in one hand; her leather jacket pulled snugly against the chill. Her sunglasses shielded her eyes, but you could tell by the slight furrow in her brow that the swarm of paparazzi wasn’t something she could just shrug off today.

You stayed close, matching her pace, your hands tucked into your jacket pockets. Talking wasn’t an option. Not with the cameras so close, their lenses hovering like vultures. Still, the brush of her shoulder against yours was enough.

"Natasha! Over here!" One of them shouted, their voice cutting through the air. She didn’t turn.

Another chimed in, louder, more deliberate. "Natasha, how do you feel about Carol being out of rehab? Are you going to visit her?"

Natasha's jaw ticked, and you immediately knew it was a sore subject. You lead her over to her car, opening the door for her letting her duck inside while you tossed her things into the back seat.

You ignored them, keeping your focus on Natasha.

"They really can't help themselves, can they?" She muttered as you slid into the passenger seat, her gaze fixed on the window.

"No," You replied. "But you don't have to talk to them."

She let out a dry laugh, the sound hollow and bitter.

"Yeah, I know."

She took a long sip of her iced coffee to calm her nerves. Natasha shifted into drive, her jaw tightening slightly as she carefully maneuvered out of the café parking lot, avoiding one particularly bold photographer who refused to move out of the way.

You watched her grip the wheel a little tighter than necessary. "Tash," you said gently, glancing at the phone lighting up on the console. "Your phone’s ringing. It’s your mom."

She sighed, hitting the button to connect the call through the car’s speakers. Melina Vostokoff's familiar voice filled the car almost immediately.

"Too busy for your mother, I see," Melina teased.

"No, of course not, Ma," Natasha replied, shaking her head even though Melina couldn’t see her. "My schedule’s pretty clear for the next couple of days. We just have a couple more rehearsals later this week."

"Good, good," Melina said, and you could practically hear the wheels turning in her mind. "I’m calling because I wanted to ask about your new girlfriend. You didn’t tell me you were seeing someone!"

Natasha visibly stiffened, her eyes flicking to you for a split second before returning to the road. Meanwhile, you tried—and failed—to stifle a laugh, biting your lip as Melina’s voice continued, full of motherly curiosity.

"So, what does she do? Is she nice? Where did you meet her? Does she like borscht?" Melina fired off the questions with practiced ease, leaving no room for Natasha to respond.

You raised an eyebrow at Natasha, silently daring her to answer. Natasha sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

"Ma, slow down," she said, exasperation laced with affection. "She’s—"

"Does she cook? Does she get along with you-know-who? Does she have any bad habits I should know about? Natasha, you know I need to approve!"

That did it. You couldn’t hold back the laugh bubbling up in your chest, which slipped out before you could stop it. Melina, of course, didn’t miss it.

"Who’s laughing? Natasha, are you with her right now?"

Natasha sighed again, with a resigned smile tugging at her lips. "Yeah, Ma," she admitted, glancing at you as you tried to compose yourself. "She’s right here. Sitting next to me."

Melina paused for half a beat before exclaiming, "Natasha! Why didn’t you say so sooner? Let me talk to her!"

Natasha groaned, leaning her head back against the seat for a moment. "Here we go," she muttered under her breath, shooting you an amused yet apologetic look.

You grinned, leaning closer to the speaker. "Hi, Melina. It’s nice to meet you... well, kind of."

"Ah, so this is the mysterious girlfriend," Melina said, her tone instantly warmer. "I have so many questions for you!"

"Okay, Ma, go easy on her," Natasha warned.

"Nonsense," Melina scoffed. "If I have questions, I want answers. Now, Y/n, tell me, where are you from?"

You took a deep breath and prepared yourself for the interrogation. "I was born and raised in Sherman Oaks, Los Angeles. Though I lived in Paris for a few years in middle school."

"Oh, wow, Paris," Melina said, sounding impressed. "How lovely. Did you live in the city, or were you more in the suburbs?"

"The city," you replied. "It was quite a change from L.A."

"And your family? Where did they go to school?"

"My parents both attended UCLA," You answered. "And my sister and I graduated from USC."

"Ah, a Bruin," Melina hummed, clearly pleased. "Very impressive."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Please, call me Melina," she insisted. "Or Ma, like my daughter does. Do you have any children?"

"Yes, I do, one she recently turned 10," you replied.

"Ten years old?" Melina mused. "So, she's probably in school now, yes?"

"Yeah, she is."

"I've done some research on you," Melina said. "So I've known most of those answers."

"Really, Ma?"

"You'd be surprised by the things I can find out about people, Natasha," Melina replied, a hint of a smirk in her voice.

"I don't doubt that," You chuckled.

"Natasha has a tour stop where I'm living currently," Melina said excitedly. "Hopefully, you will be over soon. And you will bring the child, yes?"

"If my schedule allows," you promised.

"You’ll make it work," Melina said with certainty. "I’ll even cook. Natasha can tell you I make the best borscht."

Natasha groaned softly, but the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her. "Ma, don’t scare her off."

"Oh, please," Melina replied. "She doesn’t seem easily scared. I like her already."

You smiled, feeling a warmth in your chest as Melina’s approval seemed to settle between the three of you. Natasha glanced at you, her gaze softening momentarily before she refocused on the road.

"Well, it’s settled then," Melina added. "You’ll come, and we’ll have a proper family dinner."

"I’ll hold you to that," you replied with a grin.

******

Watching a movie in the middle of the day started harmless enough.

After a morning full of errands and lunch with your friends, you had returned home and decided to spend the rest of the day curled up on the couch. It was supposed to be a quiet, relaxing afternoon, but having Natasha so close did things to you. This time, you were the big spoon, lying behind her with your hand on her belly. The shared body heat made her warm, and it wasn't long before she'd pressed her ass into you. She could probably later say it was innocent. She was only trying to get settled. Your breasts pressed into her back was also an accident. She wasn't trying to rub her ass all over you. But the little sighs that were coming from her mouth were unmistakable.

"You okay?" You murmured in her ear, nipping at the lobe.

"Hmmmm," Natasha hummed, leaning back into you.

"What are you thinking about?" You asked, sliding your hand underneath her shirt, your fingers drawing patterns across the skin of her belly.

"Nothing, just nice having you here," She said. "We never spend time at my apartment."

"You're right," You agreed, pressing your lips against her temple. "It's nice."

Natasha tilted her head back, seeking your mouth. She sighed, the sound muffled as you kissed her, your hand traveling up her ribs. You were so tempted to slide your fingers higher, cup her breast in your hand, and feel the weight of her, but you knew that if you did, it would escalate quickly. And you didn't want to be caught up in the throes of passion, naked and writhing against each other on the couch with no warning.

"I like this," You whispered, your fingers tracing the underside of her breast.

"Me, too," She murmured. She seemed to not play into your games, only offering you a bit of leverage to lift her bra underneath her hoodie. Her eyes closed, and her breathing became heavier, her nipple hardening under your touch.

"You're so responsive," You mused, tweaking her nipple. "It's like you're just waiting for someone to touch you."

"Not someone," She replied, her voice low and thick with desire. "Just you."

Her hips moved again, a slow grind as she sought more friction. This felt like the perfect moment to get her hot and bothered. Both of you were fully clothed, and there was no pressure to have sex—just a bit of fun.

"You're such a tease," You chided, twisting her nipple. She bit back a moan, her eyes opening for a moment.

"So are you," She countered.

"What are you thinking about?" You asked again, sliding your fingers to her other breast.

"About what you're doing to me."

"And what am I doing to you?"

"You're getting me all worked up and then not going to do anything about it."

"Oh, I plan to do something about it," You nodded. Your hands trailed down from her belly, and you pressed your knee between her thighs to give you space. You could feel her wetness seeping through her leggings, and it was enough to make your core clench.

"Is that so?" She gasped, arching her back. You kissed whatever part of her body you could find as you rubbed her through her pants.

"Do you like when I do this?" You asked, pushing harder into her.

"Yessss," She hissed, her hips rising.

"Does this turn you on, Tash? Having me fingerfuck you while fully clothed?"

"Shit," She breathed out. "Yes."

"Yeah, me, too."

The material was thick, but you could still feel her body heat, her arousal seeping through. You found a steady rhythm, rocking against her as your fingers pressed against her clit.

"Fuck, that's good," She sighed.

"You're so wet," You marveled. "All from this."

"God, you have no idea," She whispered, her eyes fluttering shut as you kept going, her hips rolling with your movements. "It's so fucking hot." For the next few minutes, there was silence from both of you—the occasional moan from Natasha and groaning on the couch with your movements.

"I want to see how wet you are," You finally spoke, moving the elastic of her leggings. She didn't protest as you pushed them down, leaving her underwear in place. Her legs parted just enough for you to dip your fingers underneath the cotton and into her slick folds.

"Jesus, Tash," You breathed out.

"Don't stop," She begged. "Please."

"I've got you, baby," You promised, finding her clit. You stroked her, keeping her on edge, the wetness coating your fingers. She was practically dripping now.

"I want you to come," You whispered. "Come on my fingers, Tash."

Your words were her undoing. Her body shuddered, her mouth falling open as her orgasm rushed through her.

"Holy shit," She breathed, her voice hoarse and shaky.

"Was it good?" You asked, kissing her jaw.

"So fucking good," She nodded. "God, you're amazing."

"Glad I could help."

She smiled and turned her head to kiss you. "I think I need to repay the favor."

"I would love that," You said. Her kiss was slow and deep, her tongue sliding against yours as her hand snaked behind your head. "I can't believe I get to call you mine." You whispered against her lips.

"Me either," She grinned.

You were about to tell her how lucky you were when the sound of a door opening caused both of you to jump.

"Hey, guys," Wanda called out, strolling into the room with a teasing grin.

You scrambled to help Natasha tug her leggings up, your hands moving as quickly as possible. "Hi," you answered, trying your best to look innocent, even though the heat in your cheeks said otherwise.

"Sorry," Wanda said, holding up a couple of grocery bags as if to explain her presence. "I'm leaving again. Just stopped by to drop these off."

"Okay," Natasha replied, her voice a little too casual as she fought to keep her expression neutral. "Have a good time."

"I will," Wanda said with a smirk, her eyes narrowing slightly as she glanced between the two of you.

"We're not doing anything," you blurted, raising your hands to prove your innocence.

Wanda’s smirk widened. "Right. Well, don't have too much fun while I'm gone." She gave a knowing look over her shoulder as she left the room.

"Shut up, Wanda," Natasha called after her, rolling her eyes as the door closing signaled her exit. Natasha exhaled heavily, leaning back against the couch. "I really need to think about getting my place soon."

"Or," you countered, raising an eyebrow at her, "you could possibly think about spending more time at my house."

Natasha tilted her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Are you trying to tell me something, or is this just a clever way to avoid interruptions?"

"Maybe both," you teased, leaning in closer. "Think about it. We could have lots of privacy. Lots of time alone."

Natasha hummed thoughtfully, her lips hovering mere centimeters from yours. "I'm thinking about it."

"Yeah?" You grinned, your heart fluttering in your chest.

"Yeah." She nodded. "Though, how would Isabella feel? Or even Sam. With me being there so much."

"You're worried about how my ex-husband would feel with you moving into my house?" You raised a brow.

"Not necessarily," Natasha shrugged. "But I did mention Isabella coming on tour with us, and he wasn't open to the idea."

"You told him about that?"

"At her party," Natasha said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Of course you did," you groaned, leaning back against the couch. "Nat, I love that you feel comfortable with him, but don’t tell him things before I’m ready."

"I thought you had, honestly," Natasha admitted, sitting up straighter.

"No, I hadn’t," you said firmly. "I wanted to talk to him about it first. Regarding Bella, we have a great agreement—50/50 custody, as you know. It works for us, but Sam can play hardball too."

"I know, baby," Natasha said softly, her hand reaching for yours. "I’m sorry."

"It’s fine," you exhaled deeply, the tension easing. "It’s just...a lot is changing. He hasn’t mentioned it to me yet, so at least he’s not against it, which is good. He’s chill. It’ll be a great conversation. And honestly, it’s football season—he’ll be working a lot. That’ll give me more time with her anyway."

Natasha squeezed your hand gently, her thumb brushing over your knuckles. "You’re right. And if it makes it easier for you, I’ll stay out of it. You take the lead with Sam."

"Thank you," you said, offering her a small smile. "I know you meant well. We’ll figure it out."

"We always do," Natasha replied, kissing your temple. "And hey, I promise to run things by you first from now on."

"Good," you teased, your smile widening. "Now, let’s talk about how you’ll make up for it."

Natasha grinned, leaning closer. "I’ve got a few ideas..."

********

The small bistro was quiet, the kind of place with soft jazz playing overhead and just enough tables to feel intimate. When you walked in, the faint clinking of silverware and the smell of fresh herbs greeted you. You scanned the room, noting how empty it was—a relief. This was the kind of conversation you didn’t want to be overheard.

Your eyes landed on Sam, seated near the window. He leaned back in his chair, an easy grin on his face as he chatted with a waitress. She laughed at something he said, her cheeks slightly pink as she poured more water into his glass. If you looked closely, she resembled you. Sam had a type.

You sighed and walked over, the heels of your shoes clicking softly against the tiled floor.

"Sam," you said, your voice cutting through their conversation.

He looked up, startled for a moment before his signature smile returned. "Hey! There she is."

The waitress stepped back, offering a polite nod. "Let me know if you need anything else," she said before disappearing behind the counter.

"Flirting already?" you teased, sliding into the seat across from him.

He shrugged, unbothered. "What can I say? She’s cute. Plus, it’s not like I’m the married one here anymore."

"You never could stop the wandering eye," you quipped, leaning back in your chair.

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. "I wasn’t the one with the side piece, though, was I—"

"No," You rolled your eyes. "you never had problems watching either.'

He held up his hands in surrender, clearly enjoying himself. "Fair point."

"I can't believe you're the one who picked this place," you mused, glancing around the small cafe. "A little too romantic, don't you think?"

"What?" Sam chuckled. "You know I like good food."

"Of course," you replied dryly. "I want to talk about bringing Isabella on tour with me for a few weeks."

His smirk faltered slightly, but he recovered quickly, leaning back in his chair. "Bringing her on tour? For a couple of weeks? Yeah, your girlfriend told me about it."

"Yes," you nodded, watching him closely. "I think it could be good for her. She’s curious about what I do, and it’d be a great opportunity for us to spend more time together. Plus, she’d get to experience something different."

Sam tilted his head, his brow furrowing. "It’s not that I’m against it, but are you sure it’s the best environment for her? I mean, all that traveling, the schedule, being around... well, Natasha."

You crossed your arms, not missing the way he hesitated. "Natasha is part of my life now, Sam. You know that."

"Yeah, I know," he sighed. "It's just when you fall in love with women, you fall pretty hard."

"And you don't think this is something different?"

"Honestly, I don't know," He said. "It's not my place to judge. My only worry is that Isabella won't be influenced by being with adults the entire time."

"That's why she'll be there, with me, her mother, for support," You argued. "I understand your hesitance, but I'm asking as a courtesy."

"A courtesy to me?" He frowned. "This isn't just about her coming along. This is about bringing people into her life with a reputation for being party animals. You can't blame me for questioning that. I'm not questioning your judgment. I'm judging theirs."

"If I had any sliver of doubt that she'd be exposed to anything we don't want her to, I will bring her home," You promised.

Sam sighed, toying with the gold ring on his finger. He seemed to consider your words momentarily, his gaze flitting over your shoulder. Then, his expression softened, and he leaned forward. "I can see how important this is to you," he said.

"It is," you confirmed, meeting his eye.

"You're a great mom," he went on. "The best, honestly. You're a great person. I trust your judgment."

"Thanks, Sam," you smiled, a weight lifting from your chest.

"But," he added, "if she's exposed to any of the bad shit, you'll bring her home. No questions asked."

"Deal," you agreed, holding out your hand.

Sam shook your hand, his grip firm and warm. "Alright then. We'll see what we can work out."

"You're the best," you grinned, relieved.

"I know," he said, his smirk returning.

You shook your head, biting back a laugh.

----> next part

#natasha romanoff #black reader #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanov #black widow x female reader #natasha x you #hotelcaliforniaau

94 notes · View notes

psalm22-6 · 4 months ago

Text

Source: The Catholic Northwest Progress, 22 October 1920

Written by Rev. Albert Muntsch, S. J., for the Press Bulletin Service of the C. B. of the C. V. Catholic teachers are so often asked why the Church forbids the reading of Hugo’s “Notre Dame de Paris” (The Hunchback of Notre Dame), and of “Les Miserables” that it seems worth while to set forth brieﬂy the reasons of this condemnation. Both works are explicitly condemned, the former in a decree of July 28, 1834, the latter in one of June 20, 1864. Popular opinion ranks both books among the outstanding productions of world-literature. Those who share this view are frequently unable to give any reasonable ground for their admiration. They have heard others speak in glowing terms of the romances and have never formed an opinion based on close reading. Unfortunately, many books which have no literary or artistic value whatever thus achieve a wide reputation which all the opposition of sound criticism cannot restrict to sober limits. [. . .] "Les Miserables," a social romance, begun in 1848, was ﬁnished in 1862, and is an indictment against the existing order of society. The work gloriﬁes opposition to the established social order, and though some of the characters are inspired by high ideals, the tendency of the work, as a whole, is revolutionary and unsound. It may be called a great Socialistic epic. There are of course eloquent pages in the book, and the social evils so mercilessly exposed, unfortunately weigh heavily upon large sections of every community. But this does not justify the tenor of the development of the tale. There is not only no need to spread a sentimental halo around an unfortunate mother like Fantine, from whom the ﬁrst part of the story is named, but it is ethically wrong to do so. A moral transgression is always deserving of censure, and the writer who uses his literary art to ennoble wrongdoing is an enemy to society. His book ought to be branded as evil. As an illustration of the method employed by Hugo to belittle, and even to calumniate, as much as lay in his power, a sacred institution of the Church, we mention the strange and shockingly grotesque picture of religious orders in Part 11, Book 7, of “Les Miserables.” We read: “From the point of view of history, of reason. and of truth, monachism (the religious life), is condemned. . . . Monasteries . . . are detestable in the nineteenth century." In the same paragraph it is said that Italy and Spain are beginning to recover from the curse of monasticism, “thanks to the sane and vigorous hygiene of 1789 (the French Revolution).” The long eulogy of the bishop in the opening chapters of the book make this distorted and calumnious sketch all the more abominable. For unthinking persons may be led to believe that Hugo writes as a loyal son of the Church. No matter how one regards “the Index of Forbidden Books” drawn up by the Church, an unbiased mind will recognize the wisdom of the precautionary measures taken by her to safeguard the spiritual interests of her children. That promiscuous reading of pernicious literature has caused untold harm, no one can deny. A large amount of the irreligiousness of the modern world and the general looseness of morals may be attributed to the vicious productions of the press. Just now the works of Blasco Ibanez are widely advertised “with a great noise of tomtoms and circus paradings,” as one critic has well expressed it. But works like “The Shadow of the Cathedral” sow the seeds of anarchy and discontent among unthinking classes. To banish them from our people, or at least to restrict the sphere of their civil inﬂuence, is not an offense against art, but a high form of social service.

#dude you suck #les miserables #catholic things

81 notes · View notes

solifloris · 8 months ago

Text

"floral blessings" ; a braindump from yours truly because this card is absofuckinglutely my most favorite xavier card on the face of the planet and i am. going. to talk about it <3

like with all my 5* card "analyses" (but also more like a wordvomit really 😭) this will contain spoilers for: (a) this card itself, (b) the lightseeker myth, (c) the lumiere myth, (d) anecdotes, main story, and world underneath !

[ this is also very long............ you have been warned 🤲 ]

first of all...... MY GOD...... FHSNNFBSJFJSJFK YELLING SCREAMING THROWING UP IM NEVER GETTING OVER THE KINDLED CARD FOR THIS BECAUSE. BECAUSE HELLOOOO??? HELLOOOO???

anyway..................

timeline-wise, the card pretty much implies a very solid relationship between the two, so while i don't know where i'd place it between 21 days and no restraint, it's definitely still after 21 days! but with that said, rather than more focus on their individual development like in no restraint, this one seems to focus more on their relationship as a whole, i think?

overall this braindump won't be as organized as what i wrote for no restraint (i think...) because my brain is still so completely absolutely mush over this card, but i needed to write SOMETHING or i'd explode to smithereens 😭 so nevertheless...!!!! i'll section off a couple scenes so if you want an outline, it'd be something like:

[1] general setup (an overview of parallels); [2] "reunion" (parallels and relationship development); [3] xavier's forwardness (the courtyard meetings, lessons, giving of the mask); [4] day of the festival; [5] the wish

but bear with me;;; there is SO MUCH that goes on here, and i really wish i had the patience and coherency to point out every little thing because holy shit 😭

firstly though, and i just found this really cool, but apparently the flower goddess festival is (was) an actual thing!

from what i've found (and correct me in i'm wrong) it's apparently a very ancient festival that's not widely celebrated these days, so it's not super popular or well-known, but it has many names such as: "Flower Goddess Festival (花神节 huāshén jié)" "Hundred Flowers’ Birthday (百花生日 bǎihuā shēngrì)" and "Flower Goddess’ Birthday (花神生日 huāshén shēngrì)" !!! i couldn't find much information about it though, but it seems that what was in the card such as the flower cakes and the dance really were actually part of the festival~ and i've also seen people say that xavier and mc's outfits feel to be from the tang dynasty, which a lot of people speculate is the time period that this festival originated!

BUT, MOVING ON...

i. general setup — an overview of parallels

i think honestly what's most interesting to me here is how much the overall card mirrors xavier's lightseeker myth so incredibly well. with all of xavier's cards, and how he's grown as a person and how their relationship has developed overall... so much of all of that ties to who he was as a lightseeker, to who he was as the prince of philos. in fact, it goes without saying that lumiere's myth story itself is so bound to the lightseeker myth. because, and i've said this so often and repeat myself a lot with it, lumiere is a direct reflection of the princely persona xavier has grown up with. that the reason he's always been so averse to who he becomes as lumiere is because he essentially channels prince xavier, someone who he's never thought to be truly him, someone who he's been wanting to push aside and no longer be. (i talk about it in my lumiere myth braindumps and touch on it in my no restraint braindump!)

and there's something about that reflection that transfers here, too, because there are two things that all three situations have in common: (1) a position of importance, and (2) a duty to do or fulfil something.

of the prince of philos and heir to the throne, of lumiere as the strongest hunter expected to protect the citizens, of the young master—usually the son of a wealthy family, however, in this case xavier claims he was "adopted" due to his calligraphy skills—with the task of seeing the festival through and teaching the flower goddesses calligraphy.

yet, at the same time, there's something different about the way xavier assumes this role of the "young master":

he's able to say no.

the role is lighter, likely because it's not a true role and, like mc as a flower goddess, he knows that it's temporary—but the way that their first meeting in the courtyard can remind you so much of prince xavier is almost jarring.

it's reminiscent of the very first time mc sees him with his bodyguards, in our most favorite anecdote "when shooting stars fall":

"They aren't clad in all black as one would expect, and they keep a respectable distance away from Xavier. Still, these people exude an air of oppression. Xavier, with his bag, is at the center of their group. It seems he's used to being stared at. The only difference is that rather than being his usual expressionless self, he appears slightly upset."

lt's reminiscent of that time they staged a spar, only for the royal messenger and his guards to interrupt it:

"The royal decree he brought today was related to the future of Philos ... Xavier was taken away by the Royal Messenger. Our duel ended with no clear winner, and the crowd quickly left."

and you can see how his progression grows, from prince xavier, to lumiere, to this role he plays as the young master—if as the prince of philos he had no choice but to follow the path laid out for him until he had enough of it, as lumiere he was more free to choose who he saved and when he saved them. now, as the young master, he's able to say no, sir, something urgent came up. he's able to say right now, i have something that i want to do first.

which, also interestingly, but in the more 'passive' role he played as part of the special task force, he wasn't quite one to say "no" either—though he kept a low and nonchalant profile, he's never outright refuted anyone, even if he might disagree, such as the party gathering or whatnot.

(also, slight segue, but it's notable that he's likely grown into a habit of a little selfishness due to what appears to be some kind of aversion to "serving the people". i do talk a little bit about that here—but it's the fact that (a) all he really cares about is mc, and (b) he likely still doesn't want to fall back into his patterns as prince xavier where he felt chained to think of the people more than the woman he loves. it does bring a little bit of question to his morality, but we know that mc has very much been something like his moral compass throughout.)

but, more than just the ability to say what he thinks and say no to certain things he doesn't put as a priority... he also feels light enough to goof around a little. dozing off/doodling during class, cheekily vying for mc's attention without concern about showing "favor"... something about xavier in this little persona he's taken on is an air of confidence. this was a kind of confidence you didn't see from him as the prince, as lumiere, even as the task force member. and it's not the confidence in his abilities, which has always been there—

it's the confidence in himself.

it takes a certain level of sureness to be able to do things on your own terms, or to be able to voice the fact that you want to.

i believe that throughout the parallels strewn throughout this card with how the setup is, it's this confidence that shines through and really makes things different.

because this time, xavier is different.

he's growing as a person.

ii. the "reunion"

this part of the card had me gasping out loud, i kid you not 😭😭😭 because the parallels really the fuck parallel in here 😭

"The Chen residence is far away. And I can't exactly leave as I'm one of the Flower Goddesses. So, I had to let Xavier investigate himself."

"He said he'd be back after four days. Why isn't he here ... Worried, I sit on the grass and gaze at the night sky. I'm barely in the mood to appreciate the fragrant blooms above."

first of all, the setting very much feels like the meteor shower scenario in "when shooting stars fall", but also...

"Xavier would always leave me like this. At times he joined the expedition team. Other times he was returning to the palace with the Royal Messenger. I'd always ask when he could return. He always returned within the timeframe given to me.Before the Prince entered the Forest, everyone was praying for his safety. At that time, Xavier whispered into my ear... 'Seven days.'"

"He's always lied, again and again and again and again. He said hope would follow when spring arrived. He said he'd take me to the new planet he discovered.He said he didn't want to be King but also refused to let me stand by another's side. He said he'd return when I miss him. He said when I become the Queen of Philos, he'd be my knight. The song he made up is now a reality. Yet as thousands cheer my name, he abandons me... At that moment, a spaceship soars across the sky like a shooting star, disappearing into the night. My footsteps echo in this empty room. No one will be by my side. My star has left me. And this time... he will not return home."

everyone's favorite scene from the lightseeker myth.

while at the same time...

"For some reason, seeing Xavier quietly admiring the nebula, I suddenly feel a wave of panic and instinctively reach out to grab his hand."

^ that's from "shining traces", but only one out of the many examples wherein mc feels as it xavier is someone she could lose at any second—not particularly because she doesn't trust him, but because there's a nagging feeling in her chest that they could be separated for longer than either of them would have hoped to be. after all, it's happened before already, she just doesn't know it. but whatever it was that happened in her previous lives, i've no doubt that the anxiety from back then had likely transferred over anyway.

and this is what this reunion feels like.

a sense of discomfort around his absence, that nagging "what if" he doesn't come back.

but it doesn't stop there—

because xavier does return, albeit very tired-looking (again i'd call this reminiscent of That Moment in "when shooting stars fall" where he brings her the protocore in hopes to keep her from dying).

and more than that, he explains. again, like what happened in the no restraint card, he explains. he doesn't keep things vague on purpose, or makes it seem like he's hiding something from her. he explains, and he takes the initiative to, if only to soothe her worries.

to soothe her worries.

that's an important point.

(and also on a side note:)

HDJJAJDJSJ I HAD TO AND THIS IS A DIRECT PARALLEL TO "No matter how many times it takes, no matter where you are... I will find you." BY THE WAY

anyway......!!!!!!!!! again, it doesn't stop there.

because this scene and this conversation also directly talk about home.

and this conversation means a lot more to xavier than, i think, generally one would realize. mostly because—and i remember kay making a really good point about it here—xavier has gone through a lot to get to where we see him now, and so much of change that he's had to get used to... time traveling so far only to get stuck? the different lifetimes he and the backtrackers would have had to witness this whole entire time?

like i mentioned, our brain's natural instinct is to strive for stability—you can even see it in what we know from our high school biology lessons a la homeostasis. yet, what xavier went through, what the backtrackers went through, is one hell of a shock of a change. it's the kind of change that needs processing, but isn't easy to process, and especially not quickly. and xavier had little to no one to lean on for support, to lean on to guide him through it. the result of which being that, as established even in his earlier cards... change isn't something he likes.

and as also established in world underneath, we know he just simply wants a neat little mundane life with mc.

keyword: with mc.

he doesn't really know what home is, because he has a distorted perception of it—the xavier now, in this moment, still recalls his home planet, the life he has ties to, back in philos. but as he is now, his home is in linkon. and then it comes to the conclusion that the answer is, really truly, neither.

his home is with her.

he says it, this time, explicitly.

it's his declaration that it's okay if things change, as long as he has her—as long as she remains the constant. then change is something he can deal with.

yet, even as he reveals all this to her, the conversation starts with him asking her. the conversation starts about her. and it's she who's able to give the opening back to him, by touching on things like change and belongingness.

"Even in a place this strange, you'll feel like you don't belong. No matter how long you stay ... Am I wrong? l'm sure many people feel safer in a place they're familiar with."

mc isn't a stranger to change, either—she's had a lot of it in her life, specifically the life she lives now as a hunter. the chronorift catastrophe, her family... it's not as if she doesn't know how jarring change can be, and she expresses that here—having to "start again" in a place she's unfamiliar with... it's not easy, and it's easy to feel out of place.

humans are social creatures. we were made to be social, we were made to interact with others. but from that need and that inherent desire (because no matter how small, it's always going to be there) stems the need to belong. a human emotional need to affiliate with and be accepted by members of a group.

this is something that is so prominent in mc that it is a place of solace for her to feel like she belongs somewhere. but this sense of belongingness is something that xavier has NOT experienced for a long, long time. it's only something he's been learning to experience again with her, and the people that surround them in this life that want nothing but the best for them both.

it goes back:

his home is wherever she is.

and i think that it's beautiful that, after hearing xavier's side, mc then chooses to agree with it:

"Maybe... the sense of belonging I have is like yours."

if his home is wherever she is, then her home is with him.

ALSO— while we're talking about this scene... the little banter they have with the flower cake?????? AND THE FACT THAT HE KISSES HER?!!?!?!?! JUST LIKE THAT!!!???!?!?!?!?!! (if you can't tell, i yelled about it)

AND THIS SCENE;?!

—"His eyes are a little red, maybe because of how exhausted he's been lately. Even his blinking has slowed down ... 'I'm a little tired. Can I lie down for a bit?'"

—"Before I can answer, Xavier rests his head on my lap."

DIRECTLY plays out the mutual reliance they have on one another for comfort and rest, because it parallels that line in lightseeking ovsession that we're all familiar with:

"You rest, I’ll be by your side. Always. If you have nowhere to go, nowhere to rest your weary self… you can stay with me."

i think that as much as they have been growing in to their own persons, they're both so closely intertwined, and so much of their love for each other really just pours out all the time.

iii. xavier's forwardness

granted, one thing that's interesting in this is that they do start out pretty tame. there's a little bit of a vague area concerning their relationship at the start of the card, especially since mc seems back into her old habits of starting something and not following through—or otherwise, unintentionally starting something, and then shying away afterwards. she does get noticeably flustered, but she pushes the fluster away... almost as if old habits die hard.

...but xavier, on the other hand, is more consistently bold with whatever he's doing.

there's no hesitation on his part at all, even.

in fact, xavier is the one who initiates most of these things, and doesn't shy away from it. his cheekiness really shines through—he's the one who kisses her suddenly (and for all the other kisses he initiates in the card); he's the one who fixes her clothes, her hair; he's the one playing around while teaching her calligraphy; he's the one who's so eager and unbothered about showing off their relationship:

—"Did we need to hide? Or can the Young Master not chat with a Flower Goddess?"

—"It was going to be awkward... And I heard one of the hosts of this ceremony is the mansion's owner. Since you're an organizer and the Young Master, it wouldn't look good if I was biased, right?"

—He touches the small of my back, which makes me stand up straight. "But you always have special place in my heart."

and:

"Well, I guess everyone knows now. Does this mean I can officially play favorites?"

like he's actually being SUCH a menace i had to pause and take a deep breath

but he's very consistently bold, and it, again, goes back to the confidence that he's gained in himself. he seems a little less of the uncertain, almost shy ish xavier who didn't quite know how to make proper advances... this time, he knows mc is comfortable with his advances, and he gets to play around with that. they're comfortable around each other, to this point that he can be a little more free with his words and his actions.

and eventually, we see mc beginning to reciprocate that again—especially during the festival itself, and in the kindled moments.

which brings me to...

iv. the festival day

i'd specifically talk about, here, the moment before the dance and during the dance.

because it's alao the exact moment that we see mc begin to actually reciprocate and throw back her own advancements—it's the exact moment we have a confirmation that she loves him, that she adores him, that he means so so so so much to her.

and on the day of the festival, we go back to what i highlighted earlier:

he soothes her worries.

the first instance we see this is their little "reunion" that we talked about—it's his very presence, and his added explanation, that calms her down in that moment.

and now is not so different:

—"The most important part of the ceremony, the Flower Goddess Dance, is about to begin. I glance again at the crowd. 'Where will you be during the dance?'"

—"Xavier gently takes my hand that's holding the petal. 'That flower from the roadside will wilt if you keep touching it.'"

—"'I'm just a little nervous.'"

—"'Scared of dancing, hunter? Actually, I got you a gift ... It was meant to be a surprise. But since you're feeling nervous, I figured I should tell you."

—"'That works. Now, my focus has shifted to the excitement about your gift.'"

(which, another side note, but "Scared of dancing, hunter?" had me GASPING because???? the way he teases her in this?! it's so unabashedly him without holding anything back, no coyness about it but he's being a cheeky little shit 😭 i adore him...)

a few things to note here is that out of context, it does feel like a little bit of an awkward way to be comforting someone—yet, it works extremely well. what xavier does here is not provide reassuring sugarcoated words like "it's going to be okay", he distracts her from the problem instead by giving her something to look forward to. which, in this case, is the gift.

interestingly, in a way the 'distracting' is also reminiscent of something he does when he tries to hide something from her—cutting the conversation short when she asks about lumiere, in the lumiere myth asking her to go check on the 'wanderer' so as not to let her see what he had to inject from the ship...

in his lightseeker myth, they talk briefly about his fight with the king, and the possibility of him no longer taking the throne. this conversation proves vague and a little bit one-sided, and in the end he pushes forward the idea of eloping to uluru almost as if to avoid further discussion about the fight itself.

but this time, that's not particularly where he stops: he addresses her question as well, just to find a fallback, an extra little bit of reassurance.

—"'See that tree over there? I'll be standing under it.'"

—"I follow Xavier's gaze. Nearby is a tree covered in red silk ribbons and wooden plaques by the bridge. 'So if I mess up the dance, you'll see everything, huh?'"

—"'I promise I'll forget about them after a good sleep.' His gaze remains on my face, appearing indifferent. Yet I sense a passion about to overflow. 'The only thing l'll remember today is your beauty.'"

FIRST OF ALL. "The only thing I'll remember today is your beauty." A BEAUTIFUL FUCKING LINE, BY THE WAY. IT GAVE ME LITERAL BUTTERFLIES I HAD TO PAUSE FOR A MOMENT. (1) more proof that in the end she's really all he cares about, (2) he's being unabashedly bold with his words again—no filter moment, but zero hesitation, (3) "i sense a passion about to overflow"? he's not being coy about this either, he's saying what he truly feels. he's opening up and expressing himself more, expressing his love for her more, and being genuine about it!

but also, in terms of additional comfort, it's a widely known tactic in states of panic to ground yourself by using your senses to register something familiar: you see something familiar to you, hear something familiar to you, touch something familiar to you, smell something familiar to you. such as, the ground beneath your feet. the air around you, the vague sound of chattering around you, maybe even the touch of your bag, or the fabric of your clothing, the window you know has always been there, etc. panic brings about a sense of derealization, and grounding yourself is usually the first step to calming down.

what xavier is doing now is offering the knowledge to her that he will be there. that she knows exactly where to look for him if she needs to during the dance. she has the opportunity to ground herself with his presence whenever she needs to.

(and again, it's a direct reflection of that line: "You rest, I’ll be by your side. Always. If you have nowhere to go, nowhere to rest your weary self… you can stay with me.")

and it's exactly what she does.

though she ends up enjoying the dance and the crowd does block her direct view of the tree during the dance itself, she takes comfort in the fact that she knows he's there.

she trusts him; she doesn't need to see him to know that he'd there.

and then she thinks something beautiful:

"Engrossed in the dance's rhythm, my mind is strangely at peace. After all, I know there's someone in the crowd whose eyes are only on me."

once again, it goes back—his presence offers her comfort.

the first thing she does once she's received all the flowers is run to him, and he waits for her gladly. like he's always waited for her, like he always will wait for her.

"A lot of people wanted to give you flowers. I couldn't get past them, so I decided to wait for you here. Seems they're quite fond of you, just like me."

a note: the peach blossom

i figured this deserved a section on its own actually, particularly because the whole theme is this whole "flower goddess" thing... and in the beginning, we see mentions of the "goddess of daffodils" and the "goddess of peonies".

yet, we never really truly find out what mc's potentially assigned flower was—

the only mention of a flower that we do see, directly related to her, is when the little kid compliments her hair and places a peach blossom into her basket.

and while i wouldn't know if this means it's her flower or not, but the specific mention of the peach blossom is adorable, because in chinese floriography, the peach blossom represents love.

it's used in a lot of chinese literature and often associated with the arrival of spring—which, "according to the rites of zhou, the middle of spring is a period when men and women fall in love freely." therefore, a lot of chinese literature and poems also allude peach blossoms to romance, being that spring does as well. but, it's also associated with beauty: "after the wei and jin dynasties, beauties were portrayed in a more detailed way with words like taohua mian (peach-blossom-like face) or tao sai (peach-blossom-like cheek)." and there are other things it represents too, like prosperity, growth, and longevity.

when xavier gives mc the hairpin at the end, mc describes it as "pretty and adorned with pink flowers as if they are on a branch", and while not explicitly stated, i do believe that they are also peach blossoms.

whether or not that's the case, and whether or not the peach blossom was mc's flower (or maybe that it's just generally part of the festival), i think it's a really cute detail! i think it perfectly represents their growing relationship, and essentially the beauty with which xavier always sees her~

BUT, MOVING ON.....

v. the wish

the final stretch boils down to this.

"A gentle breeze stirs the wooden plaques hanging from the branches. A faint, melodic sound dances in the air. 'They say a Flower Goddess can bless people's wishes. And if the person making the wish is someone she favors, it's more likely to come true.'"

it's where the kindled moment falls, as xavier proposes for them to make a wish together.

and, mind you, this whole entire scene is ADORABLE AND LIVES RENT FREE IN MY HEAD ... the playfulness between their words, the "if i tell you my wish, it won't come true", the way xavier CARRIES HER??? AND THE WAY HE CATCHES HER WHEN SHE FALLS AND PINS HER AGAINST THE TREE AND AND AND AND.

everytime i think of it i end up keysmashing in my head IT'S JUST SO CUTE i could burn it into my head 😭😭😭😭

but, AHEM, he also says...

"Throughout history, humanity has always made the same wishes. Perhaps it's because those feelings we have... are timeless."

i think it's a really pretty line, but more than how pretty it is, i think it represents xavier perfectly.

xavier has lived long enough, and he's likely also made similar wishes along the way. for mc to be safe, for mc to be happy... things along those lines. and for him to describe that as "timeless" also represents his love for her—because it is timeless. he loves her more than anything else in the world. it transcends space, and time, and anything else; to him, she is love. she is timeless.

it's worth noting that everytime xavier and mc get scenes where they wish together, xavier never really says what his wishes are.

in "when shooting stars fall", mc wishes for many things. for xavier's freedom and happiness, for her to be healthy, for time to stop in their moment together... for xavier's freedom, xavier's happiness, and, in her final moments—"i wish to meet you in my next life." but he's never said explicitly what he wished for at all.

in "warm wishes", mc also mentions a lot of wishes:

"I wished I could pass all my tests with flying colors and go to a good university. I wished for Grandma to be healthy. I wished for my neighbor's cat to come home..."

and her actual wish that night was:

"l wish.... everyone can have snowflakes fall on their shoulders when they're lonely, and see the stars when they're lost."

yet that night, xavier didn't make a wish. he explicitly stated:

"l didn't make a wish. I want to save my wish for when I need it the most. Plus, everything I want right now has come true."

...but this time is different.

he did make a wish.

and, this time around, he specified what it is.

"I wish I can be your sanctuary until the end of time, in your eyes."

this is a wish that's important to him. he chooses to make this wish, and he chooses to tell her about it.

there's a lot to dissect in just one statement alone, because it's so imbued into the xavier that's loved her for thousands of years.... the xavier that has grown and developed into who he is in this moment.

a sanctuary is a place of refuge and protection; a place of safety. a place of comfort. a place of rest.

and multiple times throughout this card, it highlights how xavier has been able to offer mc a certain sense of comfort. even right when the results are announced, one look at him calms her down—this part really got me.

"I glance nervously at Xavier. He makes eye contact with me, and his gaze conveys a steadfast reassurance."

it's a recurring theme in the card—comfort. peace. the peace that you can find in someone. the safety that you can find in someone. in this case, mc with xavier, and vice versa.

...and i've always associated xavier with comfort, but peace and safety have been attributes i've been hesitant to associate with him, because it's different. for you to feel safe with someone, for you to feel at peace with someone, they need to communicate, as well, a certain sense of steadfast reassurance. xavier has always been soft and comfortable, but he hasn't always exuded that steadfast type of aura.

i think that this is something that he himself realizes.

i've mentioned it before, but his wish is also a direct parallel to That Line from lightseeking obsession.

"You rest, I’ll be by your side. Always. If you have nowhere to go, nowhere to rest your weary self… you can stay with me."

yet there's also a striking difference.

what is different?

the person that he's developed into.

prince xavier, lightseeker xavier—as i mentioned earlier, there's a certain kind of confidence in himself that isn't present, and it shows. i would argue that he was at his most vulnerable that time, likely more vulnerable than when they first landed on earth, because he didn't know how to treat his relationships at all. he was too bound by the confines of what everyone, and i mean everyone, including mc at the time, wanted him to be. there was never clear communication with anyone, and it mostly seems as if he's been going through the motions—as opposed to more freedom that he's been granted on earth.

and it shows, because, that line in lightseeking obsession—does not exude confidence.

it's a comforting statement, sure...

but it's not even something that mc herself believes.

"you always lie."

it's as if xavier, as much as he's trying to comfort mc, is trying to reassure himself, too—he tries too hard to make himself appear reassuring to her that it falls short, all this on top of the times that she feels she's been let down by him.

it's ironic, almost. he says such a bold declaration despite knowing that there's a chance he wouldn't be able to keep it.

but this is different.

this time, xavier has grown to he sure of who he is and who he wants.

he said it in 21 days—"every version of me belongs to you, and only you."

yet despite the confidence that he now has in himself, notice how different this is to lightseeker's line—

he's wishing.

and he specifies that he wants it to be true in her eyes.

it's as if he's saying, i'm not sure if this is what you think about me, but i do know that i want it to be what you think about me.

he's not reassuring her; he's not making a bold declaration. he's not saying, you will think of me as a sanctuary. neither is he saying, i will be your sanctuary.

he's saying, i want to be your sanctuary.

the final decision falls to her.

the confidence lies in stating what he wants, and there's no fear in it—there's no hesitation, nothing that implies that he's scared to say it. he's confident in what he says, and either confident that she'll accept it, or confident that no matter what her choice is in the matter it's okay.

that's why this wish is so strong.

and it's mc who then says, at the end;

"I wanted to tell you that your wishes will always come true."

because she reciprocates.

and this whole moment, everything that happens from hereon—the results, the hairpin...

—"'If you meet a Flower Goddess you like, give her fresh flowers. It's a local custom here. But there are many people who admire you, and all of them have given you flowers. My flower wouldn't be special enough. So, I made a flower hairpin. This is the first time I made one, though. Don't judge it too harshly.'"

—"Xavier's hand is warm. Like petals being carried on the wind, his smile descends and touches my heart. 'What makes you say that? It's amazing. Besides, even if you just gave me flowers, they'd be the most special ones l've ever received.'"

it's worth noting that the scene where xavier gives the hairpin is also very much the same way he makes the wish. he does admit that he doesn't know if she'd appreciate flowers—but he takes it a step forward. he knows he wants to be extra special, he knows he wants her to have something she'll remember, so he does something different. he makes, and gives her, a flower hairpin. of his own accord.

it doesn't stop at his insecurities, which he still has—he takes those insecurities and spins them into something he can be sure of himself.

and there it is again.

the steadfast reassurance.

and it's what makes the moment so much more memorable to mc, so much more meaningful.

and it's why, then, he can say things like this:

"No matter what happens, I'm always blessed to have someone by my side, who makes my gaze never feel alone."

"Forever is but a collection of moments strung together. With every minute comes another, second after second. When I open my eyes again, I want you to still be by my side."

it's in a way wherein xavier is able to take some lead in their relationship, because he's more sure of himself this time. and it progresses their relationship in a way that it wouldn't have if he never learned—he's learning. he's growing. and he's really truly turning out to be someone that can love with his whole heart, without holding back.

i think this card showcases that the most, and maybe that's why i love it so much <3

ALSO, P.S., ONE MORE PARALLEL—

xavier says that the flowers are blooming beautifully this season—"it smells like spring". in his lightseeker myth, he says: "With spring's arrival, hope is soon to follow."

and its just a neat lil thing, i think <3 spring is always so closely associated with xavier, and the card really does end on such a light and hopeful note.

#GOOD ALMOST-AFTERNOON #to me and my love for this card #love and deepspace #love & deepspace #lnda #lads #l&ds #xavier #love and deepspace xavier #love & deepspace xavier #lnds xavier #lads xavier #l&ds xavier #lndthonks 🌹#lnds garden 🌹

118 notes · View notes

writingwithcolor · 1 year ago

Text

Characters reconnecting with their ancestral cultures in an interplanetary setting

@pixiedustandpetrichor asked:

Hi! I am writing a novel with three main female characters in an interplanetary setting. They grow up as orphans in an Irish-coded country and as children are mostly exposed to solely that culture, but they leave after becoming adults. Character A is Tuareg-coded, B Mongolian-coded, and C is Germanic-coded. It isn’t central to the story, but I would like them to get in touch with/learn more about their ancestral cultures, especially in terms of religion. A does this by actually visiting the planet her parents came from, but B and C do not. What can I do to depict their relationships with said cultures and their journey to reconnect with them? Would it be realistic for each of them to have different mixed feelings about participating in these cultures and for them to retain some sense of belonging to the culture they grew up in as well? Thank you for your time.

Hello, asker! WWC doesn’t have Tuareg or Mongol mods at the moment, so we're not able to speak to the specifics of cultural and religious reconnection for these particular groups. Still, I want to take this opportunity to provide some general context and elements to consider when writing Tuareg-coded characters, or other characters from groups that have experienced colonization in the real world. My fellow mods will then share thoughts about cultural reconnection in general and with respect to Germanic heritage in particular.

Drawing inspiration from groups that have experienced colonization

As you’re probably aware, the Tuareg are an ethnic group indigenous to North Africa. As with many indigenous groups, they have experienced colonization multiple times over the course of their history. Colonization often leads to the loss or erasure of certain aspects of culture as the colonized people are pressured to conform to the culture of the dominant group. In many cases, it’s near impossible to say what the ancestral culture of a colonized group was prior to colonization.

When coding a fictional culture based on a group that was colonized in the real world, it's important to ask questions about:

Which aspects of culture you're portraying

Where these aspects come from

Whether you're ready to tackle their implications for the world you're building

It’s not necessarily wrong to use elements of coding that draw from cultural aspects influenced by colonization. As I said, it can be very difficult, even impossible, to portray a “pure” culture as it would have been had colonization not occurred–because we simply can’t know what that alternate history would look like, and because so much has been lost or intentionally suppressed that the gaps in our knowledge are too wide to breach. But it’s important to be aware of where these cultural elements are coming from.

Where is your coding coming from and what are the implications?

For example, while the Tuareg today are majoritarily Muslim, this was not the case prior to the Arab conquest of North Africa. Some elements of Tuareg culture today, such as tea ceremonies, are derived from the influence of Arab and Muslim culture and likely did not exist prior to the 20th century. As you’re developing the culture of the Tuareg-coded group in your fictional setting, you have to decide whether to include these elements. There is no right answer–it will depend on what you’re trying to do and why.

Is your setting in our far future, in which case we can assume your Tuareg-coded group is distantly related to today’s Tuareg?

In that case, they will probably have kept many cultural aspects their ancestors acquired through their interactions with other cultures around them–including cultural groups that colonized them. They may–let’s build hopeful worlds!–have reclaimed aspects of their ancestral culture they’d been forced to abandon due to colonization. They may also have acquired new aspects of culture over time. This can be very fun to explore if you have the time and space to do so.

I would recommend speaking with Tuareg people to get a better grasp of how they see their culture evolving over the next however many centuries or millennia, what they wish to see and what seems realistic to them.

Alternatively, maybe your setting is a secondary world unrelated to ours and you only want to draw inspiration from the real-world Tuareg, not represent them exactly. In that case, you need to decide which period of history you’re drawing from, as Tuareg culture is different today from what it was 50 years ago, and different still from 200 years ago or 1000 years ago. You’ll need to research the historical period you’re choosing in order to figure out what was happening at that time and what the cultural influences were. If it’s pre-colonial, you’ll probably want to avoid including cultural elements influenced by colonization from groups that arrived later on.

Finally, if the time period you’re drawing from is post-colonial:

Are you planning to account for the effects of colonization on Tuareg culture?

Will you have an in-world equivalent for the colonization that occurred in real life?

For example, will the Tuareg-coded characters in your world be from a nomadic culture that was forced to become sedentary over the years and lost much of their traditions due to colonial pressure to conform?

Where did this pressure come from in your world–is it different from what happened in ours? If so, how different? And what are the consequences?

Writing about colonization can be quite the baggage to bring into a fictional setting. I’m not saying it can’t be done, but it will certainly require sensitivity and care in portraying it.

In summary: think it through

I’m not saying all this to discourage you, but to point out some of the considerations at play when drawing inspiration from a real-life culture that has experienced colonization. Similar challenges arise for coding based on any other indigenous group in the world.

My advice to you, then, is to first sit down and decide where and when in history your coding is coming from, and what you’re trying to achieve with it. This will help you figure out:

which elements of contemporary Tuareg culture are pertinent to include

How much your coding will be influenced by the Tuareg’s real-life history

To what extent that will inform the rest of the world you’re creating

This, in turn, may help in deciding how to portray your character’s reconnection journey.

Again, I am not Tuareg and this is by no means meant to be an exhaustive list of considerations for writing Tuareg-coded characters, only a few places to start.

If any Tuareg or Amazigh readers would like to chime in with suggestions of their own, please do. As always, please make sure your comments adhere to the WWC code of conduct.

- Niki

Pulling from diaspora and TRA narratives of cultural reconnection

Marika here: This ask plotline could also pull directly from diaspora and TRA narratives of cultural reconnection. Many diaspora and TRA cultural reconnection stories are, in effect, about navigating the difficult process of resuscitating, or renewing ties to culture using limited resources in environments that often lack necessary cultural infrastructure or scaffolding.

See this question here to the Japanese team for suggestions of how to handle such a storyline in a similar sci-fi setting.

More reading: Japanese-coded girl from future

-Marika

Reconnecting with German heritage

Hi, it’s Shira. I’m not sure whether German-Jewish counts as Germanic for the purposes of your post but since German Jews were more assimilated than other Ashkies, Germanness does feel real and relevant to my life (especially because my father worked there for approximately the last decade of his life.) NOTE: when I see “Germanic” vs German I think of cultures from 1500 years ago, not 100-200 years ago, so I can’t help you there, but I’d be surprised as a reader if a character focused on that for reconnection to the exclusion of the 19th century etc.

People in the United States specifically, reconnecting with German heritage, often lean into Bayerischer/Bavarian kitsch, I’ve noticed. Personally, though, what I find most relevant is:

1. The food (although I’ve come to learn that what I grew up eating was closer to veal/chicken scallopini than actual schnitzel because it was drenched in lemon, but I do like the other foods like the potato salad and sweet and sour red cabbage etc.) Your character could try making one of these “ancestral” foods as a way to reconnect?

2. The classical music, because I’m a second generation professional musician – if character C plays an instrument, leaning into that might be meaningful (Beethoven, Bach, Brahms, Mendelssohn, Clara Schumann and her husband Robert, etc.)

3. The nature, especially specifics that I enjoyed during my time there – personally, I loved the bright pink flowers all over the chestnut trees, but there are a lot of choices especially because of the Alps. If C is an artist maybe they can sketch something Germany-related from old photographs they found on the Space Internet?

I think it is VERY realistic for the characters to remain connected to the culture in which they were raised, by the way, whether or not they have positive feelings about it. Culture isn’t an inherited trait. Sure, if they want to completely walk away, they can, but I bet there are still ways it will creep back in without them realizing it simply because it’s really hard to have universal knowledge of the origins of all our quirks. Plus, not everyone feels alienated from their raised-culture just because they’re genetically something else.

P.S. There is also Oktoberfest, which I don’t really get into but is a thing, and beer, which is another point of German cultural pride.

German gentiles, weigh in – y’all have your own stuff, I know! OH YEAH so for German Christians, Christmas “markets” are a whole thing. That’s worth looking up.

–S

What do you mean by Germanic?

Hello it’s Sci! I had to study German history for my historical fantasy novel set in the late 18th century Holy Roman Empire. I am not sure what is meant by Germanic as that can encompass a variety of things.

Germanic people: from the Classical Period of Roman Empire and early Middle Ages. Similar to Mod Shira, I unfortunately can’t help very much here.

The Germanosphere: regions that spoke German, which includes modern day Germany, Austria/Hungary, Switzerland, Lichtenstein, Belgium, and Luxembourg. I generally define this as the regions captured in the Hapsburg Empire along with Switzerland usually encompassing “Central Europe.”

Modern German national identity (i.e. German): post Napoleon and the Congress of Vienna (> 1815) only including the territory of modern day Germany.*

I ask this because modern German national identity is surprisingly recent since Germany only popped up in 1871 under Otto von Bismarck. Previously, Germany was divided into smaller states and city states as a very decentralized region under the German Confederation and before that, the Holy Roman Empire. Depending on the era, you can see different conflicts and divides. During the early days of the Protestant Reformation started by Martin Luther, the northern and southern German territories generally split along Protestant-Catholic lines. The 18th century saw Austria and Prussia as the foci of global power who warred against each other even though both were part of the Holy Roman Empire.

Other states and city-states like Baden-Wurttemberg or Saxony sometimes had power but it was typically more localized compared to Austria. Post-WW2, you saw the split of Germany into West Germany run under capitalism and East Germany run under communism as a satellite Soviet state leading to more modern cultural divides. Due to heavy decentralization historically, each region had its own character with religious and cultural divides.

Assuming that the Germanic character is not from the classical period or early Middle Ages but not from the 19th century either, you can include your character reconnecting to classical folklore like that of Krampus (if they’re Christian), German literature and music like the works of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe or Mozart, or German philosophy like Immanuel Kant.

*A major wrinkle: German royals and nobility married into other states and nations frequently with Britain and Russia being notable examples. In Britain, the House of Hanover took over after the Stuart House died without clear direct heirs. When Queen Victoria married the German prince Albert, they celebrated Christmas with a tree and brought the German tradition of a Christmas tree to Britain and the British Empire. Only during World War I did the royal family’s house of Hanover name change from House of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha to the more “English-sounding” Windsor. As a result, the German cultural influence may be even more widespread than we think.

However, without more specific descriptors of what Germanic means in the context of your story, it can be difficult to determine which aspects of German culture your character could reconnect to.

-Mod Sci

#culture #cultural disconnect #cultural reconnect #race coding #ethnic coding #German #Mongol #Tuareg #setting #science fiction #Jewish #Colonialism #History #North Africa #Arab #Muslim #history

377 notes · View notes

halfwayunder · 2 years ago

Text

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬

Summary: A match with Brighton is interrupted by a pitch invader.

Pairing: Arsenal Women x Arsenal!Reader

Warning: Assault | Avoidance | Anxiety | Some Angst

Word Count: 4.6k

Meadow Park, Borehamwood

///

"Y/L/N!" Katie yells from across the pitch and you waste little time in punting the ball over the heads of half a dozen players to her, leading to certified banger of a goal in the seconds that follow and making the score 2-0 in the 61st minute after Caitlin's screamer near the end of the first half. You sprint over to the Irishwoman and launch yourself onto her back, cheering ecstatically as the pair of you are swarmed by the rest of your team.

.....

You had been with the club for over a year now, one of several promising names signed to the Gunners in the summer of 2022, and while you hadn't yet been with the team long enough to cement your place in it as one of its icons, you hadn't needed a lot of time to make plenty of friends among its roster.

Prior to joining Arsenal, you had been Everton's star girl, having played with the Liverpudlian side for over four years before moving to North London in a change that had caused almost as much upset among the Blues fans as it had excitement in the Gooners. It had been a tough decision, but both you and your manager had known that you needed more room to develop your talent and that such room could only be found at a team that regularly fought at the top of the league.

Besides, it had been a far better choice than the alternative of moving to Liverpool. (You still couldn't believe they had been bold enough to even offer.)

Initially, you'd been worried by the prospect of moving both city and club, leaving behind the team you'd grown so close to and entering a new, unknown environment filled with some pretty impressive (and subsequently intimidating) talents. Generally, you were a very confident person and not someone who tended to doubt yourself, but even then, the idea of playing alongside the likes of Miedema and Williamson with reputations known far and wide was a little daunting for a player with a relatively lowkey profile.

But, despite that you had more than proven yourself in your first full season with the club, serving as a reliable forward and netting yourself a handful of goals in the process, even if you weren't a regular in the starting eleven. (You tried not to take it personally given that it was your first season, though your competitive streak made the task a little difficult at times.)

The girls had accepted you with open arms as one of their own, and any reservations you'd had about switching to Arsenal had all but vanished by the time international break had started and you'd gone off the World Cup down under. The teammates on either side of you today were more than just co-workers, they were your friends, and sometimes they even felt like family.

.....

"Alright, you've all done a very good job this half." Jonas starts approvingly as you and the rest of the girls gather round for a brief strategy talk, with Cloé sitting on the pitch not too far away being looked over by the medics. There (probably) isn't anything wrong with her, but it's a good excuse to get a quick chat with the coach in before the game continues. It's the 75th minute and Brighton has been putting on the pressure, propelled forward by an influx of their benched players and possibly some added desperation after Katie's goal.

"Jen, Kyra, Kat, we cannot get complacent now, we need to reassert control over the midfield and lessen the pressure on our defence. Remember, their number 10 loves to make those late runs, so mark her tightly." Your coach continues, his attention turned to the midfielders as he makes quick work of the review while Cloé gets back up to some applause from the crowd and limps towards you and the others, heading for the nearby bench with the team physio and a pair of medics by her side. Already, Lina is taking her jacket off to sub in just behind you.

The chat concludes and the game continues, having only been paused for around a minute and a half as you share a glance with some of the other girls while you all run back onto the pitch with haste. You aren't normally the type to feel as if the result has been decided before the final whistle blows, but you feel confident that you'll be walking away with a win tonight, content with another strong performance.

If only.

It's the 83rd minute when it happens, 8 minutes after your group chat and 7 until the match's conclusion. You're not doing anything when the first signs of a problem arise in the form of distant gasps and disapproving yells from the crowd, you're just standing there with your hands idly on your hips, walking slowly along the pitch and keeping track of the ball as it's passed around in the midfield, a sizable distance from where you are.

You aren't paying attention to what's behind you.

"Y/L/N!" You hear Katie yell again from some ways away, but this time there's something different in her tone that alerts you, there's an urgency in it that's uncharacteristic, one that makes you think something's wrong, and it doesn't take you long to find out what it is.

"Stupid cow!" Is what you hear slurred from behind you before a searing pain suddenly springs forth from the side of your head, the impact of something hard sending you stumbling to the side before you quickly lose your footing and tumble to the ground, the left half of your face hitting the grass with such momentum that it briefly bounces back up before dropping down again.

Your vision blurs for a second or two as you instinctively reach for the sides of your head to cradle it protectively, your legs lifting up until you're just short of a fetal position. You quickly understand that you've been hit by someone and brace for a second attack, one that fortunately doesn't come as you hear sounds of a scuffle nearby.

Your right temple pulses with hurt and you can't help but scrunch your face up, closing and opening your eyes in a rabid blink to try and adjust your sight and shake off the disorientation that has you locked in its grip. For a few moments you lose track of time, wrapped up in your own world of pain before you see someone kneel down in front of you and feel their hands cup over your cheeks, turning your head up to face them.

It's Beth.

"Jesus Christ, you alright?" She asks intensely, her face shaped by a mix of exasperation and concern as you feel someone else's hands slot under your armpits and sit you up, you feel a minor sense of relief at the fact you don't immediately become nauseous at the movement, and the world starts to filter back to high resolution as your disorientation dissipates.

"Yeah.. yeah, I'm alright." You finally find the strength to speak, frowning as you continue to rub at your right temple and look around, trying to get a grip on your surroundings. Your head still hurt, but not quite as bad now and you're sitting up, surrounded on all sides by a wall of red and white football kits, all belonging to women who's gazes were entirely focused on you and who all looked either worried sick, pissed off or both.

Behind them, you could only just see another gathering of bodies that was leaving the pitch. A sea of high-vis jackets, some emblazoned on their backs with 'Security' and others 'Police'.

"Fucking maniac." You hear one of the girls around you say, "How'd they let that happen?" Someone else asks to no one in particular, "Stupid dickhead, should throw him in the sea." A third voice suggests angrily and the accent leaves little room for candidates who's surname isn't McCabe.

You feel some of the girls pat you on the shoulder or rub your back, and Beth takes one of your hands in her own, hands disappearing from your face so they can help you stand up before the wall of Arsenal red parts to let in the team physio and doctor who quickly disapprove of the idea and sit you back down before you've even had the chance to get your bum off the grass.

A light is flashed in each of your eyes, causing you to wince, and you're bombarded with a series of questions that lead you to assume the pair are checking for a concussion. But- after what feels like forever, with the hairs on your skin standing up as you become increasingly aware of what a cold night it is now that the warmth from your exertion during the game has worn off- the two medical professionals get up from their crouched position and carefully help you stand up too.

The crowd cheers for the development and you let out a breath, shaking your head with a small, cynical smile as you were met with looks of sympathy from your teammates. The side of your head still hurt, but it had diminished to the point that you could probably ignore it, though it was still far from comfortable.

"Had to happen to me, eh?" You say to Beth, who can't help but let out a short breathy laugh.

"Maybe he's an Everton fan." Jen proposes and you laugh with a nod. "Left it a bit long, didn't he?" Steph replies with a feigned confusion.

You walk to the bench with the physio, doctor and Beth, with the rest of the team giving you a few more supportive words and pats on the back before heading back to their places on the pitch. It wasn't as if they were going to cancel the game over one rowdy wanker, after all, besides there was less than ten minutes left.

"Are you okay?" Jonas asks as you approach the Arsenal bench and you nod, being brought in for a quick hug before he adds, "That was totally unacceptable. We'll need to address it with the club. Get more security." He sounds angry, and not just with your assailant. You hadn't really had the time to process what had happened given how fast it had all been, but as you sit down at the team bench, receiving another warm reception from the girls there, the ones who'd been playing in the first half, you begin to get where he's coming from. How could that be allowed to happen? What if the guy had a weapon? What if-

"My girl." Your thoughts on what could have happened are interrupted by an unmistakable voice, Leah. Putting that Southern pronunciation on the word 'girl' that you loved so much, but sounding just as worried as everyone else who'd spoken to you did. The blonde wastes little time in leaning down to envelop you in a hug from where you sit, and you return it with a smile, letting out a breath you hadn't known you'd been holding in, and it coming out shaky much to your confusion. You felt fine.

"Good thing you weren't on the pitch, otherwise that prick probably wouldn't have left it." You joke with a small smile as the two of you pull apart and Amanda to your left budges up so Leah can sit down next to you, her brows furrowed in that steep arching frown she liked to do. The match in front of you continues as it had before. Alessia sits on your right, trying to be considerate by not unnecessarily intruding but occasionally giving you a side glance with a smile.

"Honestly, if they hadn't gotten to him first. Fucking wanker." Her blue eyes dart to the side, momentarily looking out to the pitch before returning to you. She reaches out an arm and wraps it over your shoulder, pulling you close, you have no objection, and you can't resist the amused huff of air you let out at the thought of what Leah might have done if she had been there and had two properly working legs.

A small comfortable silence settles between you both until the defender asks, "You alright?" and you nod almost on instinct, giving her a smile. "Yeah. Head hurts a little, but I did just get punched." You joke, but Leah doesn't laugh, or even smile, instead penetrating you with those deep blue eyes. "I know that, dummy, they wouldn't sit you on the bench if you were hurt like that. I meant the other kind of alright."

You shrug and for the first time since you'd seen her, your eyes drift off to the pitch and you shift in your seat. Yeah, you were fine. But, the idea that you might not be didn't sit right with you, or rather, the idea that Leah and by extension the rest of the team might not think you are.

"You mean if I'm all... shaken up? Quaking in my boots?" You retort with some dry wit and a slight smirk, putting some faux dramatism on your words as you glance back to Leah for a moment before returning your eyes to the game. You felt fine, but the question seemed to stir something in you, applying a light pressure to your chest that wasn't there before. You didn't like it.

Leah didn't seem amused and you feel her stare boring into the side of your face, inspecting you almost. "Yeah." Is her short reply, as if she isn't looking to entertain your attempts at humour. As if she takes the incident more seriously than you do.

You shrug again and look over to the blonde with an expression that borders between nonchalance and indifference. "Then yeah, I'm all good in that department too. If fucking Jack Grealish can handle a punch then I think I'll be fine." That one seems to have some effect on Leah's stern, concerned demeanour and she gives a small smile, shaking her head slightly as if reprimanding herself for not knowing better to expect any other kind of answer from you.

But she tightens her arm around you just a bit regardless, pulling you in just a little more than you already were, even as she turns away to face the pitch as the game approaches the final whistle, her eyes lingering on you a little longer. "Alright.. but if that changes, you know I'm here, right?" She asks with a sincerity that makes you a little uncomfortable, partly because you'd always been a little awkward around more heartfelt exchanges of emotions, and partly because.. well you couldn't really figure out that other feeling, but it adds to that small pressure on your chest.

"Yeah, I know." You get out with a firmness, more to reassure the defender that you'd be willing to open up in that sense than anything else. You weren't sure if you ever would, even if your feelings did change. But, you were.. confident that they wouldn't. You felt fine, after all.

The final whistle blows not long after.

.....

The hum of fluorescent lights fill Meadow Park's comparatively humble locker room as the team trickles in, sweaty and exhausted from a relatively hard fought win. There's the usual post-match banter, the teasing, the recounting of the odd tackle and the two winning goals. But there's also a.. tension in the air, an undercurrent of concern and empathy directed toward one player in particular and unfortunately you're all too aware of it.

You take your usual spot by your locker, trying to blend in with the post-game routine as seamlessly as you can. You begin to unlace your boots, your fingers working with a rehearsed, mechanical precision. You didn't like it when people fussed over you, and you always tended to think that their attention was better spent or even better deserved elsewhere. You didn't really like being the centre of attention either, positive or negative. So, sitting here, and knowing that every now and then a different set of eyes would glance over at you, or that every second conversation featured you in some capacity, it wasn't a fun feeling, even if all of it derived from the most kind intentions.

You slip your cleats off and lean back against your locker as you sit in your cubby, looking up at the ceiling and releasing your second shaky breath of the night against your will. That pressure on your chest hasn't gone away and it's beginning to annoy you as you close your eyes and try to relax yourself, feeling oddly tense.

Between the chaos of the initial aftermath, your conversation with Leah and some of the banter you'd tried to get yourself involved with during the short walk to the locker room after their celebration, you hadn't really had the time (or the desire) to really think back to the incident or process it. It'd happened what? Thirty minutes ago? Yet, it already felt significantly longer.

Your hand reaches up absentmindedly to rub at your right temple as images flash one after the other of the experience. You on the ground, Beth kneeling in front of you and those two words that you hadn't even recalled until now. "Stupid cow." You scratch at your temple for a moment and open your eyes, shaking your head for a second or two as if to ward off the memory.

You let out another breath, and while this one isn't quite shaky, your breathing has gotten a little heavier.

Your hands clasp together and your fingers interlock as you idly rub your thumbs up and down the hand opposite to the one they each belong to. That pressure on your chest makes itself known a bit more and you swallow, your eyes surveying the locker room, not quite knowing what you're searching for but compelled to do it all the same. Why would someone do that? Why would a person just run out onto the pitch and hit a player? Hit you?

"Relax." You tell yourself.

It doesn't do much, and you have to put a hand down onto your knee to stop one of your legs from tapping itself up and down. "What the fuck is wrong with me?" You internally ask yourself. You felt fine. You had felt fine five minutes ago. You had felt fine after being punched in the side of the head. Why are you feeling like this now?

You shift in your cubby and take a deep breath (another shaky one, much to your frustration), trying to regain control of yourself. That fucking weight on your chest is still there.

"Y/N." You hear someone- Katie- say nearby, and you curse to yourself. "Yeah?" You ask with a slightly raised brow, trying to remain lowkey as you look to your left to see the forward standing not too far away next to her own cubby, shoving her boots into a large black duffel bag as she stares at you, most of the other girls are still in their own conversations. Thank God.

"You good?" She asks the question that you've become almost annoyingly familiar with in the past half hour and like before you nod impulsively. Though unlike then you're no longer quite so confident in the honesty of that natural response. "Yeah, all good. Why? Am I getting a bruise?" You say in an attempt to be light hearted, giving the brunette a small smile, but she only frowns back, causing you to swallow.

"Nah, just seemed like you were.. thinking 'bout something."

You break your stare and go back to what you're supposed to be doing, getting changed, leaving Katie unsatisfied as you find your own duffel bag next to you and begin putting your cleats into it. You begin to feel a slight burning at the bottom of your throat but try to ignore it, feeling the corners of your lips reactively curl downward even as you busy yourself with getting changed.

"Fucking idiot." You angrily say to yourself on the inside. "Stop being such a baby." You take off your Arsenal shirt and shove it into the bag with an unusual amount of force. That pressure on your chest grows heavier and your breathes with it. You aren't sure why you feel this way and you hate it. You've never felt like this before and you hate it. Why is this happening? You were fine before.

"Y/N." Your name is called again, only this time it's Leah, and she's standing right behind you, causing you to jump just slightly. Your heart beating a little quicker as you'd been facing your locker, back turned to the rest of the team. Katie must have gotten her.

You take your third shaky breath of the evening before responding with a falsely inquisitive, "Yeah?" as if you hadn't a clue what she'd want to talk to you about. You continue to face your locker, opening it up to take out your casualwear to give yourself a valid reason not to turn around.

"You wanna come with me? Need to talk." She says with a nonchalance that is deceptive. Ordinarily, if Leah needed to talk with someone, she wouldn't hesitate in using her regular old sternness to get the importance across. But, right now? Her tone was light and casual and you weren't an idiot. You know that she was treating this like some kind of sensitive situation when it wasn't. You'd gotten punched by some dickhead and that was it, end of story. It probably happened to a thousand people every day in Britain and you were no different.

"Yeah.. just lemme get dressed first." You reply, sliding on your trousers and feigning your own coolness and composure, though not nearly to the same effectiveness as Leah. Your breathing's still heavy and with each passing moment you begin to feel a growing sense of claustrophobia when you'd never suffered from that in the past. You want air. Maybe you need it. But, you can't let that show.

"Mind turning round, Y/N? It's bad manners not to look at someone when they're talking to you."

You won't let it show.

"Look, Leah. If this is about that dickhead again, I told you I'm all good." You retort dismissively, wanting to put the questioning to bed.

That pressure grows heavier.

"Well, I don't think you are."

Your heart beats faster.

"Oh, and what? You're in my head now are you?" Your frustration peaks through the façade.

Why are they still asking you about it?

"No. I just know when my friends aren't okay." Leah's concerned tone fades and she takes on a sterner one, a tough love one.

Why aren't you fine?

"Well you might want to get your radar checked because I'm fucking fine, Leah." Your brows furrow and you almost grit your teeth as that burning sensation creeps further up your throat. You shouldn't have sworn.

The rest of the locker room is becoming quieter.

"Then why won't you look at me?"

Everyone's looking at you.

"Because you're fucking bothering me!" You yell angrily. And if there had been any conversations left in the room, they cease instantly, cloaking the team in a deafening silence.

You swallow and it almost hurts your throat. You blink and your eyes have a wetness in them that wasn't there ten seconds ago. Your chest lifts and falls dramatically and your hands have a light tremor in them.

But, you were fine ten minutes ago.

You feel a pair of hands take you gently by your waist and you presume them to be Leah's, having that presumption confirmed quickly as the defender turns you around slowly to face her. You don't resist, but you feel almost ashamed as you're rotated to face the rest her and the rest of the girls. You can't even look any of them in the eye, with your eyes dropping to the ground and becoming fixated on your feet because it's easier than looking at anything else.

"You're okay, my girl. You're safe." Leah says, her sternness morphing seamlessly into an almost painfully sincere softness and care as you're pulled in slowly for another hug, though your arms hang almost limply by your sides. You don't know what to do, or what to say, but you feel a stinging in your eyes and a pain in your throat that's becoming more pronounced by the second.

You bury your head into Leah's shoulder because you know you're about to cry, and you feel a surge of intense shame at the realization. Your arms reach up and finally wrap themselves around Leah. You know the rest of the girls are watching you, and it's embarrassing, but you don't know what else to do. You don't feel safe.

"I don't know what the fuck's wrong with me." You finally let out into the blonde's shoulder, feeling the first tears roll down your cheeks. "I was okay and then.. this shit just came out of nowhere. I'm sorry."

Leah pulls away from you, but only slightly, one of her hands lifting your chin to level with her as she looks you dead in the eye, while her other hand reaches up to stroke your cheek. "You have nothing to be sorry about, understand? Nothing. No one thinks any less of you for this, Y/N."

You aren't entirely sure if that's true or not, but Leah, being the natural leader that she is, had a way of making people believe things or feel them even if they otherwise wouldn't. And you're not immune to that effect, nodding somewhat hesitantly in agreement, but nodding regardless as you feel that pressure on your chest lighten ever so slightly.

"The pitch should be a safe place for us and that dickhead tried to take it away." You hear Beth speak up, both to you but also to the rest of the room, with nods and murmurs of concurrence following throughout. Concern and heartbreak can easily turn to anger and a need for justice, and even in your frustratingly vulnerable state, you can see that change begin to take place in the confines of the locker room as the scene between you and Leah made it perfectly clear to everyone that you had been effected by that attack on more than just a physical level.

"Everyone's here for you, alright? Nothing like that is ever gonna happen again. Not to you, or anyone else in this game." Leah says, that steeply arched frown returning to her expression as a hint of determination reaches through her words.

She wipes away some of the tears that hadn't quite made their way down your cheeks and pulls you back into the hug, running her hand in circles along your back. "We're gonna make sure he regrets ever coming to this game." The Vice-Captain whispers into your ear with an intensity that almost makes you shiver, and in that moment, you find a piece of your confidence back.

You were confident that the girls had your back. You were confident that Leah would do whatever it took to get justice, and you were confident that one day that wanker would indeed regret ever even coming near you. But, most importantly, you were confident that you wouldn't allow him damage you, that you wouldn't allow him to have anymore significance in your life than a fucking footnote. Regardless of whatever happened next, revenge or not, justice or not. You were simply more valuable than that, and the girls would always help to remind you of that, even if sometimes it was hard to see.

Sometimes, your team felt like more than just a team, and tonight was one of those times.

///

End Notes: Hey, everyone! So this has been my first ever woso fic. I'm still trying to get to grips with pacing and getting some proper good angst, but I hope this is an enjoyable read and a good start!

#woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #arsenal women #awfc #reader insert #arsenal wfc #arsenal wfc x reader #woso community #leah is going to fuck shit up

708 notes · View notes