#i understand if they have a mildly positive relationship due to just living and working in the same place

[10piecechickenmcnugget]

About to be a little #fandom critical while I’m still mildly delirious

One of my biggest pet peeves is people who draw/write cquackity and cpurpled as friends or even just like on good terms that aren’t forced

you can’t look me in the eyes and tell me that alex “no one will remember you” quackity and purpled “I don’t think there will ever be a point in time where I respect you as a person” bedwars are friends

[unicorn-gallerexy]

Howdy, I totally mean to post more and didn't do any of that but then i got stuck with this idea and getting it out so here ya go, i want it out my face. There will be part 2, but i need a break bc this too so long and is longer than i wanted it. Only mildly proofread, rada rada, yknow the drill

Word count: 12.7K (i managed to hit the end of like 3 keep notes, i ain't ever done that)

CW: (technical) Homewrecker!Atsumu x Wife! Reader, smut, (kinda/justified) cheating, manipulation and mild threats (not from Atsumu), open marriage (you weren't vibing with it), trash treatment from husband, Long af, Atsumu being mad bc wtf is up with your husband?

One for Another

When your husband asked his question, excited just after coming home, you thought you couldn't hear. Or maybe it was that you didn't understand?

Either way, you asked him to repeat himself.

"I want to open our relationship. It sounds like a good idea, yeah?" He smiles, like there's nothing wrong with his sudden asking, and the look you give him is blank before it obviously reads upset.

"Why?" You steady your voice a lot easier than you steady your mind. You were hurt, this was so out of the blue. Yes, he had voiced a bit of an issue with your extra few pounds, or how you didn't dress up more often, or how you didn't have as much sex anymore (which was more his fault but he blamed you and the weight you put on) but you were working in it. You started working out in your own home because he was insistent that other people, like his coworkers, could see you let yourself go. You worked on being consistent with skincare and wearing more clothes that flattered you. You were actually looking quite a bit better than you had before. At least you and your friends thought so...

"Because it's a great idea?" He says it so easy as if you should be understanding. Seeing as you don't look pleased, his smile drops and he heaves a sigh so heavy at the thought of explaining himself. "Look you and i haven't... Been on the same page for a while. You and I just aren't matching up right now, so i figured it would be good to open the relationship so we can fill in those gaps."

"What gaps? I've been working on myself for damn near two months now, solely because you asked. What am i not doing for you?"

"Jesus Christ, this isn't about you. It's about us being happy, and im not happy. Im also not just trying to leave you high and dry but im sure you're not happy either." He says the part about you not being happy as if it doesn't matter to him. His emphasis was on him not being happy, and the part of not leaving you sounded more like a chore than a willful choice.

He swept you off your feet and promised a life a comfort. He was working on a promotion, he complimented you regularly and the sex wasn't bad at all. You fell for his charm easy, and he seemingly fell for you just as hard. After a few years, he asked you to marry him and made it known you could depend on him completely. Your job was basically down the drain by the time the wedding happened due to higher positions deciding the right way didn't make them enough money fast enough. He said you could trust him to take care of you, that he'd keep you happy and comfy, that he didn't mind a housewife for a while. You let yourself fall into that role, it wasn't hard. The house he bought was sizeable but not too big, the chore list was never too long and you did indeed live comfortably.

Over time, through his several promotions to an executive seat, you moved into bigger and better, all while he coaxed you into being his lovely little housewife and homemaker. Anytime you talked of going back, he'd mention how the job market wasn't the best, reports of customers abusing staff locally, rumors he "heard" here or there about owners and managers of places you were looking into, and always mentioning how you complained of every job you had. How you hated working, but how you were basically just taking care of yourself and he was taking care of you by working and giving you a card of his he didn't need to keep track of.

This was more temporary than you thought it was.

In the last two promotions, he had been given an assistant that always seemed a little too close for comfort. If you ever brought it up, he'd only mention how he married you and how she worked for him, so he couldn't be cheating on you. He blamed your insecurities and said you were forcing your own self doubt on him, and how that wasn't fair. At first the responses seemed loving, in their own way, before they turned angry. He'd shout about you being insecure, how you were trying to accuse him of things you had no proof of. He'd leave the house and even when he came back, he rarely ever apologized. He'd simply place more money onto the card and talk to you as he normally would. He pretended to care with a kiss on the forehead and half holding you in bed every so often.

That didn't stop him from pointing out your mounting flaws over time. It didn't stop him from refusing any sort of advances you made, day off or not. Didn't stop him not inviting you to company events as he had in the past and instead saying he was going with *her instead because "family isn't invited this time around" as if there weren't pictures posted later of his coworkers with their wives who you know don't work for the company at the same event.

You would've left a long time ago, really. But he wasn't wrong in saying you were insecure. Or that he'd leave you high and dry. He managed to manipulate you into not having a job for years, which doesn't look the greatest when applying for new ones, which created your dependency on him for financial reasons but he also had preyed on the parts of yourself you couldn't stand, made you feel like he and he alone loved you, like no one else would or could love you. You defended his words when your friends brought up concern by citing that he was right, as no one had really come up to you to flirt or asked you out prior to him so there wasn't really much competition for you. And, at the time, he at least liked you.

All for it to be thrown back in your face now. The waves of realization hit like you're in a losing boxing match. You feel your eyes burn but refuse to let any tears fall. He, unfortunate as it may be, can still read you at least a little. He comes and wraps his arms around you in a hug that makes you feel slimy, but you don't pull away as there's no where else to go really. "Listen baby, this isn't just a good thing for me. It's a good decision for both of us. I'm not giving you what you want, you aren't giving me what i want, don't you think it's better to find those things in other people and still have each other to come home to? At least give it a shot." He insists. It's obvious to you now, he doesn't care about you finding someone, only about him being allowed to do as he wants without being called a name that fits.

Part of you want to ask, but you figure you won't get answers if you do. You feel backed into a corner with no real way to lash out. So, you give a reluctant and strained yes, giving in to your defeat in hopes it hurts a little less. He kiss the back of your head and quickly slips away from you, grabbing his keys and saying something about being back later before slipping out of the door. You hear it lock, you hear the car start and drive off, and looking at the time on the clock in the stove behind you, it now reads 7:38pm. You could swear he turned his head to look at it when he was behind you.

The weekend comes in shortly after, he says he's going on a trip and you don't bother to ask where to or when he'll be back. You're already distant and its only been a few days, not that he cares at all. He packs and leaves in a hurry, only sending a text of "I love you" about an hour later. You've yet to tell anyone, feeling overwhelmed with shame and stupidity at not seeing any signs earlier on to avoid this. Or maybe because you feel ashamed that you couldn't keep your husband satisfied? That he was seduced by someone you'd consider younger and prettier than you'll ever be. You're not that old, nor are you bad looking but that's not how you see it. Your eyes only seem to find more and more inadequacies each time you look into a mirror. From the bags darkening under your eyes to your hair becoming more tangled with your lack of care, from the flaring breakouts across your face from stress and ditching your routine to the weight you worked off coming back with friends because you wallow on the couch and dropped your workout routine.

What was the point?

You had nothing else to work towards. Sure you barely looked different from before him, and if you got back into all of it, you'd look basically the same as you did then, maybe a bit better, but what would be the point? No one wanted you before he did, he literally had no competition for your affection or attention. The only thing that's changed that you can't undo is the passing of time. Sure, in the grand scheme of things you really weren't that much older than you were then but, if no one wanted you then, who would want you now?

You couldn't give an answer, and thus your brain concluded with: no one.

You eventually wind up inviting friends over about 2 weeks into his trip and, not having heard from you for longer, they jump at the chance to see you. When they arrive, and you answer the door, disheveled in sweats, they can see that you're not holding up well and the sweet smiles and loud hi's drop. Being asked what's wrong sets off the water works, not having cried in or out of his presence made the dam behind your eyes too full, and concerned friendly voices opened the gates. You step aside to let them in and they immediately hug you, telling you to calm down enough to at least tell them what's wrong but the sobs are violent, shaking your body completely and taking the strength from your legs. They guide you to the couch, sit at your sides and tell you to cry it out, seeing as every time you try and speak, it's unintelligible.

When you manage to calm yourself enough in your friends arms, you don't lift your gaze from the floor, explaining why you haven't answered calls or texts and why you just spent a literal hour crying into them. To say their furious is an understatement. They shout question after question, most at how he could do this and feel nothing. You cry into your hands, and that's when they calm down, starting to throw suggestions, the first being divorce. You remind them of how he basically holds all your financials, your place to live, and a solid position in his company. Your friends sigh as they realize that leaving, at least now, isn't a real option. After a moment of quiet thinking, and soft sniffles, your first best friend grabs you by both shoulders with a smile. "Open relationship, right? That means you can also do what you want. We can get you back on track with all your routines and go out, take you with us on singles night!" She's beaming even if you don't look the most into the idea, your other best friend seeming to voice your thoughts for you.

"As if he'll actually let her have another relationship outside of him with no repercussions. Be real, May. He'd flip his shit because he just wanted to go out and fuck anything that breathes without being called a cheater" May pouts, having already thought of that in a more minor capacity.

"I figured that, Kura. We don't have to tell him shit. He's not even being that discreet about it, with the 2 of us helping her out, he'll never know." She leans to speak over your shoulder to Kura before looking back at you with soft, loving, hopeful eyes that you feel you haven't experienced in a while. "Maybe we can actually find you a real man who'll treat you right and wont do this shit. You don't deserve to just wallow here by your self." Her hands cup your face as she awaits an answer and you shake your head in her hands.

"No one wanted me before, May. Who's gonna want me now? I'm older and-"

"Still hot, at least when you're not distressed." Kura says from behind you, smiling with some sort of support for the plan. You shake your head as May keeps hold of you.

"Okay but everything is here, workout equipment and-"

"We'll take you to the gym with us! Kura has been wanting to get in there for a while but she keeps bailing on me. I'll take you two with me and then we're all obligated to go. We'll go on spa days, I'll call you so you don't have to acknowledge him while you do your routine here. Trust me, thought out much more than you think." May beams, Kura chiming in about possibly just moving rooms so you have space if you haven't already. Both paw at you and basically beg, saying it'll at least be good just to get out for a little while every day even if you aren't man hunting. You tear up again, and when asked why, you say you thought they'd me mad at you, tell you i told you so or something because you didn't listen when they spoke up. You're given the warmest embrace you've had in a minute as they tell you it's not your fault, it's his. He preyed on you, just to throw you away for nothing substantial. You cry, and say ok, agreeing to go with them and along with their plan, causing them both so squeal with joy before May goes to bolt upstairs.

"Where are you going?" You sniffle, caught in Kura's arms as you look up the stairs.

"To run you a proper bath. We're having an at home spa night now. You need it." She scrunches her nose in the way that makes you laugh and knowing you still have some happiness makes them happy.

The night goes on as they wish, both helping wash your hair and your face, saying you need a break as they pamper you and do their best to drive away the sadness in your heart, or at least distract from it. They help you move things into another room, opting to watch terrible B and latter alphabet movies, doing your face routines together and eating proper food since you've seen gorging on junk food for a while now. They opt to stay over for a few days when you tell them your husband wont be home for another 3 weeks. Both girls help you clean up, do laundry, and essentially reset your home to brinf back a real sense of normalcy. May sits and picks out a couple gym appropriate outfits, laying them on top of the dresser, before they leave you a couple days before your husband is supposed to be back. They kiss your forehead, hug you tight and tell you the day of a group gym trip so you look forward to it. Kura notes she wont back out if you don't, putting a sense of responsibility on you to ensure you don't bail last minute.

When your husband comes back, he finds you lounging about in the other room, only to ask a question you truly dreaded hearing. "Hey, I can still have the bedroom to myself for a bit right?" Behind the doorway, at his side you can see another shadow in the sunlight that bathes the house and a feminine giggle from behind him. You simply wave him off, a half hearted mumble sending him on his way to the bedroom, girl in tow. You hear the door shut, lock clicking into place as you curl into yourself and text your friends. They send you texts to just forget about it as much as possible, you telling them it's hard when you can hear them through the walls and know he feels no sense of remorse.

That was what killed you most, the fact he was doing it all and seemed to feel nothing for you. No remorse, no guilt or shame, not even the tiniest bit of pity even if it would piss you off. You realized quick he didn't feel anything negative about it, but that didn't mean it didn't suck to have such a blatant display of what you could only feel was disrespect. Then again, you're surprised it didn't happen earlier.

Your affluent living situation meant a very nice, expensive gym wasn't too far away. May and Kura didn't live in the expensive part of the city but they had good jobs and kept up with the monthly payment plan that even you and your more frugal upbringing balked at when you got the sign up paper at the desk. Once paying the overcharged fee and getting your membership card, May lead you and Kura around to show you the facilities the gym had to offer and blabbed about the famous and influential people she's seen in passing from actors to local businessmen to athletes. Kura and you keep up as she taps your arm for your attention. "I'm kinda starting to regret coming with May." She whispered, no malice behind as you nod and hum in agreement.

You feel exposed even if your fully clothed. The sports bra and crop you normally wear to workout at home suddenly feeling to short to be worn outside (even if you've done so a million times) and the yoga shorts holding your ass nicely feeling all too tight to be worn in public. You can't help the shy stance you keep as May guides you past a the sauna, pool, and cryo rooms towards the side of the building, keeping one arm wrapped around yourself and the other down at your side. Kura is dressed in similar pants, but her top is a loose cotton shirt you wish you'd gone for instead. May, being the one used to being here, is in a good sports bra and yoga shorts due to the weather. Once her tour is over, she guides you into the large workout room, complete with just about any and every machine you'd need for every part of your body. You wanna vomit.

You know you left to get away from your currently shitty home life but now you actually kinda regret coming. May turns with a big smile that falls quick when she takes note of yours and Kura's faces. She keeps hopeful, taking you both by the hands over to the treadmills that face out of the window. "We can start here so that you two can get a bit more comfy, yea?" You both nod and hop on, the 3 of you starting at the same pace and making mild small talk.

After you and Kura seem to loosen up, noted by you finally dropping your arm from around yourself, May takes the opportunity to switch it up and get you guys through some stretches. From there, it's basically downhill. May is fit, not annoying about it and it shows. She puts you and Kura to your limits and genuinely encourages you the entire time in such a way that's hard to be mad at. You're at it for hours until the final stretch for your cool down when she beams "And we're done! That was fun, wasn't it?"

"I regret.. My decision." Kura pants.

"Fun isn't what id give it but i mean..." You trail off with a weak wave of your hand on the floor next to Kura as May hops up to drag you both down the hall and to the sauna. When you both express dismay over the sound of sitting in a hot, moist room on a hot day after being worked to near death, May assures you that you'll just both feel so much better after and if you're so inclined, she'll take you to the actual pool for a bit after. You and Kura grimace at the thought of being more openly exposed than you already are at one another as you follow May and say you'll both pass on that part today.

Out of clothes, wrapped in towels, May hands off your clothing to one do the workers before noting to you as they leave that they're gonna wash them. You and Kura share a surprised look at her as she pushes you both into the (thankfully) empty sauna. She does everything to set it up and soon enough the room is hot and steamy, her eyes fixing to continuously check on you two as you close your eyes and drop your head to relax in the warm, wet heat. "So how long can we be expected to be alone in here?" Kura asks, scooting to put just a bit more distance between you two which you're thankful for.

"With how long we've worked out, not too much longer. But we don't have to leave or anything like that. We can basically stay in here for as long as we want, though it is recommended to leave at some point to prevent overheating." She sighs.

"With how much we have to pay for a monthly membership, we better be able to stay in here for as long as we want." You complain, Kura letting out a small laugh as she lays her head against the wall. She and May look at you, your head still down and eyes still closed.

"Black card for your thoughts, lovely?" Kura mutters, you shake your head before answering.

"Just thinking about home, unfortunately. Thinkin about how i let it get here honestly." Kura pushes your arm and you look at your friends, both sets of eyes stern but full of care as they note him and whatever he's doing isn't worth any more of tour head space. Kura throwing the idea to take him for what he's useful for and buy everyone lunch after, naming off pricy places your younger self could only dream of going. You laugh at her, especially as may joins in with the new ultra luxury bakery that just opened up and is known to be pure Instagram fodder and not actually good baked goods. Just as you near snort with laughter at their suggestions, about to cut in with something cheaper and actually good, the door opens and causes you three to scoot a bit closer to one another in a corner and 4 actually fairly familiar faces trail in, shortly followed by a duo that you can tell aren't with the prior 4. Your husband's work and you being his previous arm candy piece at work events let you passionately shake hands with plenty of elites, faces recognizable to you easy. The 4 who are making conversation amongst themselves are athletes, specifically the (debatably) most popular members of the team. Koutarou Bokuto, Shoyo Hinata, Kiyoomi Sakusa, and Atsumu Miya.

The other 2 are businessmen that you've seen at damn near every single even you went to with your husband, higher ups from a company his worked with. They were always hitting you in the worst way so your nose unconsciously crinkles before you turn to Kura and May. You aren't too surprised, May did say plenty of the wealthy who live close by here and even some who don't come to this gym just because of how nice and/or exclusive it is. You hope somewhere inside yourself that the duo doesn't notice you at all, as that would help the first day back to a workout routine all the better.

Of course, you cant ever have what you want. The universe curses you by making one of the idiot duo loudly recognize your left shoulder tattoo of a chubby kitten playing with stars from various franchises, like animal crossing fragments and Rosalina's stars from Mario games. "Oh shit! I remember that dumb little tattoo! Y/n, how have you been babe?" He says. You roll your eyes hard enough to hurt as you feel every pair of eyes in this small room land on you. You force a smile and turn your head, giving a strained hi and fine. He and his friend start to bombard you with questions at your minor acknowledgement. Your husband, what he's been up to and things like that. You answer most, half with lies as Kura leans over your back and tells them to call him if they've got "such a hard on for him" instead of harassing you.

Kura has taken on most of your lost bite while you work to get it back, and you find yourself plenty thankful for it. You don't miss the small snorts of laughter from the other side of sauna and neither do the duo on the other side of you. Not liking to feel any sort of embarrassment, and somehow deciding that the wife of their business colleague is their prime target, the second one opens his mouth with venom. "You know Y/n, i have friends who work with your husband. We haven't seen you at any of the company get togethers anymore, yknow? But we have seen him with this real pretty dame on his arm. You make him get a replacement so you don't have to be there or what?" They way you stiffen is visible and your brain short circuts on what to do next for a half second. Both have this smug smile on their face as everyone looks wide eyed at the two, and they look at you.

You stand, eyes lifting from the ground where you had planted them during talking to them initially. "The fact you two are so mad because you cant even get escorts to sleep with you, much less me when im married so you go around saying shit like that is honestly pathetic." Your hand slaps the one who opened his mouth before you can rethink it, turning on your heels to leave at you hear not just your friends but the other men in the room giving them quite the reprimanding as you float your way to where you can pick up your freshly washed clothes. You must've been in there for longer than you thought, as they're set out with your membership card on top to show ownership. You're quick to change as you hear voices outside looking for you. You step out and toss the towel into the bin they have out for them and your friends rush to your side and try to comfort you but you simply tell them to get dressed so you can go and eat.

They're dressed in a flash and following you out the front door, you never noticing the sets of eyes that manage to trail your form as you storm out with your friends hot on your ass, wiping your eyes. Once in the car, there's a beat of silence as they seem to try and find what would be the rihht thing to say after that. What do they say? Your tears don't wait, a uncontrolled sob escaping you before your hand covers your mouth to hold back the rest of the noise as you cry. He's so brazen about it, of course other people notice but the last thing you wanted was to be confronted with it anywhere else. You're hugged from two directions, hands rubbing your back and arms to soothe you as May says she wont blame you for bailing after that. You shake your head, taking deep breaths to calm yourself and taking the tissue Kura passes you from her bag to wipe your eyes and blow your nose before you close your eyes. Clearing your throat, you croak. "I'm still going to do it... I'm not gonna let this stop me... Even if it sucks..." Kura pats you on the back, saying she'll still be with you and May clapping at you not letting it throw you down without a fight.

You get to pick lunch. A nice sit down hot pot spot that's having a slow day, so they wave the typical time limit they have and sit you three in a cozy booth. You loose track of time, your friends being efficient in distracting your mind from the day's sour turn, laughing and eating to replenish some energy. You three can see the door, and have made a game of betting (without money of course) on if the groups and couples who come in have ever actually been to a hot pot place or if they came in because they think it's "exotic". It's a dumb little game that results in fun banter. Lo and behold, the bell advice the door dings again and in walk... The same 4 athletes who basically saw you getting outted as being cheated on. The MSBY black jackles, with the rest of the team in tow. The owner working the register guides them to the large booth in the opposite corner from you and your friends, who ask if you wanna go after seeing the 4 familiar faces. You shake your head, saying you're having fun and betting that the extra shy, probable assistant, hasn't been to hot pot before as you slip a leafy green veggie in your mouth. You're friends smile and agree with you're bet, and you let your night continue.

The three of you fall easy back into yourselves as the waiter comes to top up your broth for the 3rd time, never noticing the pair of eyes that seem to linger along your form here and there. You don't even notice how the same eyes trail you once again as you leave out with your friends, looking considerably happier than when you left the gym. He knows he shouldn't be looking so hard, but he just cant seem to understand. Why would a man who married you not want you or not want to show you off?

You keep to your word and go back three days later, muscles sore the day after from how hard May worked you both but you return nonetheless to join her again as she says you'll both get used to it and she'll keep the routine the same for a while to help speed up that process. She beams at both of your forlorned faces as she makes you both get down on the floor for your stretches.

She keeps to her word, and you get back into your prior habits as your friends remind you that self care shouldn't be tied to the scumbag you live with as they have now deemed him. Your days with them are your highlights, whether it's just lunch and the gym or if they come over to insult your husband in the guest room you've moved into. Your gym trips are a bit better for your mental health tho, having made a couple of friends through May's bubbly personal skills and being away from your husband's revolving door of women. You tend to avoid anyone who has more consistent contact with your husband or his job to avoid any more incidents like your first day and that seems to do you well, though you've of course run into several big names that have worked with his company or him once or twice. You don't mind those, especially since some are constant faces anytime you go to be whipped into shape by May.

Some of the more consistent faces you see are those of Athletes, specifically coming across the MSBY team again and again. The 4 who initially witnessed your sauna incident either didn't remember it or simply never seemed to show they did, none giving you any odd looks or pitied glances any time your eyes seemed to catch theirs in passing. You were always the first to turn away, never catching on to the way one of them seemed to stare. At least not at first. The more often you came, the more you saw them and vice versa. The more you saw them, the more he could stare. The more he could stare, the more you seemed to catch him and while he would avert his gaze elsewhere or focus of the weight in his hands, he'd still eventually find a way to stare at you again all whilst taking pride in the way you seemed to fluster under his gaze. That man was Atsumu Miya.

Of course, his blatant "eye fucking" as Sakusa would call it didn't go unnoticed by the others, Bokuto and Hinata scolding him for essentially hitting on a married woman. When away from other who knew nothing about the information they had heard in the sauna, Atsumu defends himself. "He's cheatin on 'er anyways and i haven't even said anything. Why can't i look?" The others always reply that it's not the point.

"They might be trying to work it out?" Hinata mutters, making all of them turn their nose and Atsumu respond with a "Fuckin hope not." The boys were raised on better teachings so, even if they were reprimanding their friend for his borderline inappropriate behavior, they still don't like the idea of some poor, pretty girl "working things out" with a man that obviously doesn't care about her. Atsumu's typical defense doesn't hold up for long though. As time passes, the more he sees you, the more he tries to find ways to talk to you. From bringing you and your friends water to engage in small talk under the guise of being kind before he's called back to managing to catch you and your friends as you're about to leave some other amenity after making sure he worked out for just a bit longer, saying it was to not slack close to a game, to be sure he caught you at the tail end of your swim or sauna sit. Atsumu continues to argue that there's nothing wrong with making small talk or incidentally running into someone in a shared public space.

"You don't even know what incidentally means, homewrecker." Sakusa shoots, Atsumu having an aghast expression at the word. Though, with more time and the tiny tidbits of info he learns about you personally, the more the insult seems to not matter. You're a nice convo partner, and he's just being nice, right?

Of course, you have other obligations to attend to aside from the gym. You know he still expects you to clean the house, that damn bedroom you can't find it in yourself to even look at much less sleep in anymore included, and make him (and guests he brings) food. You'd refuse if he didn't opt for the coercive method of throwing the fact you don't have a job right now in your face, guests there or not. You just go with it at this point to avoid talking to him, moving away or giving minimal acknowledgement when he tries to soothe you with empty hugs and worthless words. So the supermarket is your other safe haven. No hard work, no husband or women he's fucking, no real stress aside from not finding something you're craving. Crossing into the refrigerated section causes a shiver, eyes scanning over price tags you've never gotten used to looking at. As you reach out for a pack of chicken with a decent tag, a stronger hand brushes in front of your to cross in the other direction. Looking up reveals a familiar blonde headed athlete who seems to beam at seeing you, as if he didn't see you a couple aisles ago.

"Hey, been a couple days. How ya been?" He asks, taking his hand away and gesturing for you to grab your thing first.

"Been alright, resting up before my May drags us back. You?" Conversation comes easy, he's noticed you're kinda quiet so he takes the lead in asking questions and talking about his own things. He's careful, even subconsciously, about asking certain questions as to not put you in a sour mood. You ask him the occasional question as he seems to follow you around, noting he doesn't have anything else to do except his own personal grocery trip, like about his games and team. He has no issue answering, giving the occasional jab at them and joking with you to make you giggle behind your hand as you both float around the store until you both have to check out. When he realizes that the window is closing on the most in depth conversation he's ever had with you, he spings an invitation as you both exit the store. "Umm... Hey, do you maybe wanna come over to mine later? To keep talking? I think you're actually pretty interesting." He says quickly, trying to make sure you don't think what he feels you are.

You smile, laughing softly. "Your reputation is starting to sound a bit more true. You always invite girls over to 'talk' after you grocery shop with them?" He smiles and shakes his head, free hand rubbing the back of his neck.

"Nah, just you." He flirts, and liking the feel of the missing male attention, you agree. He comes and tells you where his place is, and upon looking at it typed out, you realize that it's actually not far from where you and him live. Like, just a bit farther, just almost out of sight due to the curve, down the long street that your house sits at. You can walk to his house. When you tell him as much, he laughs. "Small world, huh? I'll leave the door open then." He shoots you a wink before heading on his way to his car ad you do yours.

When you get home, you don't speak to your husband. This is now normal. You simply put away the groceries you bought save for what you cook after. Once you've rushed through making a meal you have no real intentions of eating, you simply shoot him an "I'm heading out." Before slipping out of the door and taking a slow, leisurely stroll down to Atsumu's place. It takes about 20 minutes at that pace, and once in front of the door, you get butterflies. That old familiar flutter in the base of your tummy makes you hesitate to knock but you're a big girl, so you reach your hand up to give a few solid pounds to the heavy door. His place is nice, you've seen every house in the neighborhood at least once but you never really knew who lived in them. You were already housewife status before you moved here so you rarely came outside or interacted with any neighbors except next door and directly across the street.

The door opens with the slightly sticky sound of the seal meant to keep the outside out, and in the way of your view into the luxury home stands a broad chest. Your eyes get stuck for a half second before they trail up to his face, bright smile already splayed across his face. "Well howdy neighbor." You've heard him speak so the accent wasn't low on you but there sure are some words that really bring it out. You bow your head with your greeting and he turns himself to the side to let you in. "What took so long? I was waitin for ya." He asks jokingly, and you smile as you tell him about having to cook before you left because if you didn't do it, who would? He hears how lighthearted you make it sound, and he swallows the frown before it gets to appear on his face. You're keeping your head high to cope and it makes him wanna gag as his eyes trail up you, seeing no real flaw as to why some man wouldn't wanna be with you. He thinks you're real pretty, gorgeous even. You're also smart, funny and pretty quick witted when your head's not in the clouds. He knows it's a little odd to feel so strongly for the situation of a woman you just met, but his mama taught him so much better than that so when confronted with shit like this, it's hard to fathom. Even more so when the subject of it is right in front of him, oh so beautiful with your-

"Atsumu? Earth to pro athlete, need you back down here, big guy. Atsumu?" Shit. He had zoned out looking at you as you spoke so when he shakes his head and politely asks you to repeat the last thing you said, he feels awful. You seen a little too used to it as you shrug it off, which he feels makes it worse, and ask again. "I said: Did you have a plan when you invited me over or were you just gonna go with the flow and see what happens?" You stand with your hands behind your back so to not touch anything, and he struggles with his mind wandering as he motions for you to sit down and quickly jogs into his kitchen.

"I mean, we had a pretty nice time talking at the grocery store so i figured we could just pick up where we left off." He calls before coming to set a glass of lemonade down in front of you on the coffee table. "And if you stay long enough, i wouldn't mind you joining me for dinner?" It comes out like a question, you've been here for all of 2 minutes max and he's already inviting you to stay longer. He's so eager in a way you cant help but giggle and agree. You watch as he sits on the other side of the couch before starting to engage you in some bit of conversation from before. What you pick up on is that he constantly tries to get you to talk more and he pays actual attention to what you say. Anytime you quiet down out of habit, he asks you another question. The conversation hops from life experiences, to vacations, to upbringings. Anything to get you to talk to him more, anything to learn as much as possible about you, anything to make you smile and giggle like he's getting so enamored with.

He can't keep convincing himself that he's just being nice.

Not as he moves just a bit closer every time he sits back down from refilling your drinks. Not as he keeps trailing his eyes up and down your form when you laugh hard enough to close your eyes. Not when he has to fend off the mild shutter that slides up his back at certain words you say. Not as he continues to mentally say you're basically in the right if you were to do something outside of your marriage, and how he'd offer himself up in a heartbeat despite the guilt he'd been raised to have. Maybe if he finds out just a bit more about your garbage life partner, he can get rid of all the guilt he has. So he asks as you sip at the wine he offered up along with dinner, citing he's not as good as his brother in the kitchen but he does know a bit.

"Hey, i understand if it's still kinda touchy and you really don't have to answer if you don't wanna but, im just having a hard time wrapping my head 'round it." He starts, and your stomach turns as you know what he's gonna ask. But you sigh and down the rest of the glass, feeling It's better to get it out there now rather than feel like you're manipulating the situation later. The feeling of being wanted for a bit was nice while it lasted though. You set the glass down next to your empty plate and turn to face him, questioning when he went from the other side of the couch to only a couple inches away, motioning for him to continue. He ponders on how to say it without seeming insensitive before he sighs and just blurts it out. "Why the hell is your husband cheating on you? I genuinely can't understand." He stops himself before he goes on a tangent about how pretty you are or how nice you are or how he'd treat you plenty better.

You feel your eyes burn. You thought you'd be over it by now but maybe you had just pushed the thoughts away, far enough that it was basically outta sight, outta mind. You blink quickly to get rid of the tears and once Astumu catches the glossy look, he shakes his head. He opens his mouth to tell you to forget about him asking but you out your hand up to stop him. He fears you might just up and walk out, looking like a kicked puppy along with you as you take a deep breath to compose yourself. You open your eyes and put your hand down, speaking before he can. "He wanted an open relationship, so he's not actually cheating on me." Saying it feels gross, and if you took your eyes off the floor you'd see Atsumu with a face that agrees. Not because of the open relationship thing, because of how you phrased it.

"So you didn't want the open relationship?" He asks for clarification and though you and Atsumu don't know each other as well as you know your best friends, he's a comfortable presence that feels empathetic to you in a way, despite feeling like he's pitying you too but that's just your mind talking there. You shake your head, dropping it into your hands to rub away the tension that's building your temples.

"He sprung it on me out of no where, said i wasn't making him happy anymore. Saying i had 'let myself go' and whatnot. I was working on it, really. Working out at home, keeping up self care routines, trying to initiate even though that isn't normal for me. He just... Didn't want me anymore." You're quiet as you talk, a small sniffle in the middle of your statement tugs hard at his heart. Well now he can't possibly feel bad. He asks you about the dudes at the sauna the first time he saw you and lets you explain that they work with with your husband under a different company. "They've probably seen him with his pretty little coworker who he's been sleeping with. By the sound of it, they aren't the most discreet about it so it's just embarrassing for me. They're the types to get pissy when turned down. He rolls his eyes hard enough to hurt, feeling like his brain is throbbing in his skull over how dumb it sounds. Your husband, he colleagues, whatever whore he's screwing that most likely knew who you were and that the idiot was married. It gives the most sour ass milk taste to him.

"And what about you? Since he forced it, wouldn't it be good to get out and see someone?" He asks softly, particularly because he's yet to see you truly conversing with another man in the time he's been talking to you. He's also never heard you talk about anyone else, not that it would truly be any of his business but it just intrigues him. You simply shake your head again though.

"He's... He's the only man over ever been with. We met when i was young, got engaged and married pretty quick but i wasn't the prettiest thing in the group so he had no real competition. When that happened i kinda just stayed inside and didn't bother even after starting the working out thing with May again. I mean, if no one wanted me then, why would they now and I've just gotten older?" Your insecurities have shown before but Astumu's about to start asking some real serious questions about how your husband treats you if you think so low of yourself.

"So why not leave? I mean it's obvious he doesn't care 'bout ya, and you don't seem like the type to stick around for shit like this." He admits its a bit assumptive but he can read people pretty well, and he'd bet on this assumption for sure.

"He married me when i was young and kinda took over most things. Pre and post me leaving my job and agreeing to be his fulltime housewife. I kinda can't... At least not right now." You admit. Atsumu has genuinely never wanted the throttle a man so badly. He's basically holding you hostage so he cant look bad but is forcing decisions on you whether you like them or not so he can do as he wants. Yea, he definitely doesn't feel bad anymore.

"I want you." It's a simple statement but it has you whipping your head to look at him and the serious face he has that somehow also looks like he's bored almost.

"What?"

"You asked who'd want you since time has passed and stuff, right? Me. I do." Your eyes widen as he continues. "I think you're fuckin' gorgeous to be honest. Inside and out. You're funny and sweet when you're comfortable, you've got a good heart and 's all bundled up in this lovely, lovely body o' yers." He starts to smile mid way through his declaration as he notices your dace get more and more flustered. His accent seems to get just a bit thicker as he talks faster towards the end, enthusiasm radiating from him as he closes that tiny 2 inch gap between you two on the couch so your thighs touch. You're shocked honestly. It felt like he liked you but your self doubt said it was just pity, but you also felt there was nothing wrong with being a bit delusional and taking what you could get from a nice man giving you attention. You stutter, trying to get something out about how you feel but he hold up his hands and leans back a bit, never scooting away from you though. "If ya don't feel that way about me, i understand even if it hurts a little. But I would love to show you how a proper man should be treating someone as beautiful as you." He's laying it on thick but you feel he's being honest about your ability to back out if you want.

You still can't manage to figure out the words you want to say to him. You don't really think you'd know where to start, being the way he didn't seem judgmental towards you or the fact he apparently had actual, genuine interest in you. So you hug him instead. He's surprised for a moment but quickly hugs you back, finding that you're so much softer, warmer than he expected this close. He nose catches whiffs of your soap and shampoo, you even smell gorgeous. And your husband didn't want this? Fucking idiot. You pull back after a while, just enough to look him in the eyes. "Thank you, but... You don't..." You start how you want, but you cant seem to find the correct way to finish. Atsumu understands from the way you avert your eyes, flustered and shy in a way he finds all too cute on you. He puts his hand under your chin to gently redirect your gaze back to his, confident smirk still splayed across his face. It's a reassuring look really, one that says he really does want to do what he said.

"If you don't want to, that's fine. I understand, but don't think that i don't want to. Because i really fucking do." His voice is low due to his proximity, leaning his forehead against yours as he searches for any sign of you pulling away or rejecting his advances. It's like a little game behind your eyes plays out before you opt to say fuck it and close the small gap between your mouths. He reciprocates immediately, moving his hand from your chin to the back of your head as your hand begin to wind themselves in his soft blonde locks. The kiss goes on for what makes your lungs feel like eternity, but your brain feel like mere seconds. When the burn in your chest is too much, you pull back and take a deep breath, letting the oxygen take your brain through thoughts of this really being a good idea. Your eyes scan Atsumu, from the lidded gaze to the slightly swollen lips to the heaving chest and from what your eyes take in, your brain says it's a great idea. I mean, if he's willing to give you what you're missing, why deny yourself?

He stands up and holds out his hand to you, letting you take it as you ask about where he's leading you to. "Well i did say i'd be proper bout it, right? Can't take you on the couch first time around, that comes later." You note how confidently he said later, as if he's assured a next time. And while normally you'd say that was a bit presumptuous of a man, you couldn't help but think of the kiss you shared and allow him to have his confidence. He smiles when you don't deny him too. He leads you to a room that's cleaner than what you'd expect from an athlete if you're honest. The room smells of lingering cologne and linen air freshner as he closes his door. He comes behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and placing his face into the crook of your neck to kiss and nip at the skin as you tilt tour head to give him more space. You giggle as he kisses at certain spots, whimpering when he finds that particular spot that has you slightly buckling in his grasp.

His hands play with the hem of your shirt and pants, gently tugging as he sucks and bites at the spot that has you depending on him more to help you stand. "You can still back out now, (y/n). I really don't-" you wind up snaking your hand back into his hair, turning your head to bring his mouth to yours.

"I want to, Atsumu. Please, lemme have this." The way you whine has his eyes rolling in a good way this time, gently pushing you to his bed before he opts for turning you toward him and tossing you on it. His grip firm as he halfheartedly flung you onto the soft sheets as if you weighed nothing and without a single complaint either. He's quick to crawl over you and place his lips back on yours, tongue slipping in before you can fight him on it. You don't fight with him too much for dominance, more so to just be playful. He takes it, sliding his hands higher under your shirt than before to touch your skin as you fingers dig into his shoulder. He takes time to pull away every so often to ask if he can remove some piece of clothing from you, seeming as if he truly couldn't get enough of you. First your shirt, then pants, then his own. He barely detached his body from yours as he stripped you or himself, wanting nothing more than the feel of your soft, pretty skin on his. When he inevitably did have to pull himself up onto his knees to take off your bra, he couldn't help but take in the sight in front of him.

You're underneath him, as he's wanted for a bit now, neck only slightly marked up from before, lips swollen and a little of the mixed saliva from him keeping your mouths together making Its way down your cheek from the corner of your mouth. Your chest is heaving from him giving you minimal time to breathe between kisses, and to top it off you're basically half naked, the pretty body he's seen clad in various workout clothes finally exposed properly for his eyes to drink in. His staring to you on the other hand, has you feeling self conscious. You take a breath and start to move to shield your body from him, crossing your legs and bringing one of your arms over your chest to hide. He quickly stops you, whining at you, gently smacking your hands and thighs to get you to move them. He settles himself properly between your thighs and moves to pin your hands above your head with one hand. "Don't hide, beautiful. 'M only staring cause i think you're pretty." He smiles at the flustered look that comes back across your face and trails his free hand over the too of your bra. "I can take the rest of it off, right?" He asks, eyes still glues to your chest.

You hum and nod, so he wastes no time before reaching under you to unhook the only thing keeping your chest from his mouth. He almost drools at the sight of them when he moves his other hand from your wrists to toss the garment to the floor. There's quiet fuck that slips from him as his eyes catch on your tits the same way yours did earlier, and under such admiration you can't really tell when, if ever, your husband looked at any part of you with such genuine hunger. If feels nice to be looked at like this, so you try not to let your hands fall from where they rest above your head. His hands smooth down your sides, gripping every so often at the soft flush under his fingers til he gets to the hem of your panties, pulling and letting them snap against your hip as you yelp. He's tempted to rip them in all honesty but decides against it, simply sliding them down and off you to the floor as his eyes rake up and down you to figure out where to start.

His hands reach for your chest, kneading your tits and watching how responsive you are to him tweaking and thumbing over your nipples. He takes in every tiny whimper and breathess noise you make before taking your left nipple into his mouth and moaning at the taste of your skin. Your hands come down then, rethreading through his hair and unconsciously pushing him just a bit more into your chest. They're more sensitive than he thought, and you seem to love the way he flicks the hardened bud with his tongue before he takes a teasing bite and pulls it with his teeth just a little. He's not one to show favoritism in the bedroom, so he swaps to lavish the other with the same attention, biting just a bit harder to get you to make more noise for him. It all has him rutting his still clothed cock against your center, the wetness quickly seeping through the thin fabric and driving him to take his open mouthed kisses down your torso, leaving marks here and there to show his pathing until he's kissing the top of your mound. You tug his hair and he lets his drunken gaze float up to yours, mouth still kissing around between your thighs.

"You... Don't have to, if you don't wanna... Just so you don't feel obligated or something..." His brows furrow as his mouth sticks to one spot just above your clit as he takes in what you just said. His foggy brain has a moment of realization when he sees that you aren't just flustered, but embarrassed. He sits up a bit more as you gulp and raises his eyebrow at you.

"Did that fuckwit tell you he didn't like eating pussy?" He asks so bluntly it makes you curl up a bit as you avert your gaze, hands stroking his head still.

"He said it wasn't his favorite part but he did it because it was expected so I'm just- ah!! Fuck!" You're abruptly cut off as Atsumu opts to dive head first to your center, tossing your legs over his shoulders and running his tongue from your hole to your clit before sucking it into his mouth. Atsumu eats pussy for his own enjoyment, for fun. Your husband had you at home all the time and didn't constantly want his face between your lovely thighs? He didn't want the warm soft earmuffs and the, to Atsumu, gentle pressure of you squeezing his head with them? Because to Sumu, this feels like heaven. The muffled squeals as he slides his tongue from lapping at your clit to fucking your slippery hole and nudging his nose against your clit to keep the cute little button stimulated have him rutting into his mattress. You're overwhelming his senses and he's in love with it, it's a contender for being his favorite part of it in competition with how you taste. One taste and he's actively trying to devour you, as if he hadn't eaten dinner maybe an hour or so ago.

His hands grip onto your plush thighs and encourage you to clamp them even harder than you are now around his head as you whine and keen under him. Your fingers tug at his hair as you halfway guide his mouth where you want him, also grinding your cunt against his face and breathlessly moaning everytime he hums in pleasure against you. He opens his eyes when he feels one of your hands leave his head and lets them trail up you see your head tossed into his pillows and the hand you freed from his locks grasping at your chest, kneading your breasts as he did earlier and he can't help the way he basically growls into you. "Atsumu~ mmphf! Fuck, Sumu!" Oh god if he wasn't determined to get you to cum from the dumb shit you told him earlier, he was now.

He keeps his grip on your thighs, sluring and lapping feverishly at your pretty pussy, making sounds you'd truly be embarrassed of if you could find yourself thinking straight. He lets you use his face, lets you tug and pull his hair in a way that would be damn near painful, if he could think straight either to, to let you throw yourself off that cliff. He's only focusing on the moans clawing their way from your throat, getting higher and higher in pitch until you feel like you're about to crush his skull between your thighs. You call his name over and over, louder and louder until you go rigid and squeal as he helps himself to your sweet release, guiding you through wave after wave of pleasure.

Once you begin to paw and push at his head, he pulls himself up to look down at you with a wolfish smile and drunken gaze. His chin and lips shine in the daylight that floods through his bedroom window, the subtle warmth that still enraptures you keeps you from being as embarrassed about the sight. He moves his hand to swipe your juices from his chin before placing those same fingers into his mouth and humming at the taste. "You're husband has absolutely no taste, does he?" You giggle and move to sit up, a hand reaching to trail down his abdomen to the hem of his boxers but are stopped short by him pushing you back down and crawling to blanket you with his body. He kisses you deeply, sharing the taste still on his tongue with you and swallowing the little whimpers you give.

"Are you not gonna let me reciprocate that?" You ask when he finally parts, moving to trail his mouth down your neck and shoulder as he shakes his head.

"Uh uh, at least not this time. Next time." He assures, and you laugh softly in his ear at his confident insistence on this not being a 1 time thing. It makes you giddy, a man desiring you in a way that seemed so fairytale lately even tho you were supposed to be happily married. He nips at your shoulder and hums when you don't respond. "You'll let there be a next time, right darlin'?" He mumbles against your shoulder. You nod, dreamily humming as you turn to kiss his temple. At your agreement, he grinds himself against you, letting your slick completely soak through his underwear as you both moan into each other's skin. You grab hold of his shoulders as he keeps going, his grunts heavy on your neck as he tries to keep from going overboard. He does sit up, chuckling breathlessly as you whine at the loss of his heat.

He quickly slides off his boxers and when your eyes meet again, or rather when he looks at your face, the smile that crosses his face is smug. Your eyes were glued to between his legs, your lower lip caught between your teeth. He was bigger than your husband, longer and thicker though you'd say they were similar heights. Impressive sure was one way to describe it, the tip pink and glossed over with his arousal that began to run down his length. He trails his fingers from his abs to wrap around his dick, giving it slow stokes which catches your attention. You let your eyes follow up from his dick, soaking in the way the muscles under the skin of his tummy ripple and quiver, taking in how his chest rises and falls with his labored breaths. From his chest, you look to his face, catching how his eyes are intently glued to you as he seems to fight the urge to fist himself faster. Your grip on your lip becomes bruising, the wet plaps of his hand around himself causing you to twitch and pant.

He smiles as he stops, bringing his wet hand to your mouth with a slightly raised brow, a tiny gasp escaping him as you eagerly take his hand in yours and run your tongue over his palm and between his fingers. It sets him off, as he's quickly over you again, freshly licked hand guiding his hardness to your weeping center and mouth on yours with the full intent to make it hard to breathe. He lets his cock slide through your folds, swallowing your moans every time his tip rubs your swollen clit. "You ready, sweetheart?" He slurs against your mouth. You nod, clasping your hands together at the back of his neck, desperate mutters of "Please, Sumu..." spurring him on as he slides his way into you. He was happy at how easy it was; despite how tight you were, your pussy was wet enough give give him little resistance. He only pulled away from the heated kiss to watch your eyes roll into the back of head and listen at the drawn out noise you gave him.

When he feels you hike your leg over his hip and push him into you, he almost giggles at your eagerness. He moves his hands to the sides of your head, starting a steady rut into you before both of you whine at the feeling not being enough. "Please, Astumu.. Gimme more~" you ask so sweetly, how can he deny you? His hips begin to snap into yours, drawing out pretty high pitched moans and grunts from both of you. He moves his face to mark your throat and shoulder as he pumps into you, hands moving to grab your hips to prevent you from scooting up the bed as he starts to thrust faster and faster. He keeps his moth on your throat, grunting at the feel of your sounds on his lips and your nails digging into his shoulders as you wrap your other leg around his waist.

"Feel .. s'good baby. Y'er grippin me soooo fuckin tight- shit!" He curses into your neck, mindless babbles being all he receives in return. The smile on his face never seems to leave, even as he sits up to sit back on his haunches and starts using your hips to bring your velvety pussy onto him, your ass propped up just a bit by his thighs underneath. The angle has you keening, arching your back and grasping at his wrists as a way to ground yourself as he pistons into you again and again. The sticky wet squelch between you drags Atsumu's eyes down to where you both connect, rolling and threatening to close as the sight of his pelvis all glossy, pretty white ring encircling his base and shaft completely coated. The feel of your walls convulsing and clentching as your hips buck against his in a futile effort to keep up with his brutal pace is mind numbing, dragging almost whiny moans from his chest as his hands garb onto any bit of you they can and please.

When he does manage to tear his eyes away from your swollen cunt sucking him in, he lets his gaze lick up your body. From your tummy that he can see bulge with every pump in, to your tits that bounce so nicely, to your pretty face and the adorable fucked out expression that's plastered across it. He genuinely thinks you're so pretty, he can't wrap any part of his mushy brain around how someone could have you and not want to worship you all the damn time. You deserve so much. And he's damn sure gonna give it to you. "Y'er- so- fuck-in pretty!" Every syllable is punctuated with a harsh kiss to your cervix, just bordering on painful but still adding to the pleasure that has your eyes glued to the back of your skull. Your whines and moans are broken as they hit his ears, one large hand moving from your hip to your front, letting his thumb rub your clit and his other four fingers press above where his cock hits inside.

You shudder under his hands, twitching as you let out a weak warning of your impending orgasm. Though teary eyes, you see him nod. "C'mon darlin, cum nice an' hard f'me." He grunts, leaning up onto his knees just a bit more for leverage to throw you over.

And he does.

Your eyes clamp shut as you basically scream, his name tumbling out again and again as he fucks you through it. He's honestly a bit disappointed in the fact you didn't squirt, but there's always next time, right? He does fall over the edge after you do, your gorgeous climax having a domino effect on him as he grunts out your name like a mantra until he can't. The after shocks of yours guiding him through his own overwhelming haze of pleasure, and he finds himself drooling slightly by the time he comes back to earth. His body collapses next to yours after he pulls out and watches your cunt twitch and clench, letting his cum seep out and admiring it as it follows the curve of your ass onto his bed. He pulls you to him and you let him, snuggling into his chest.

He lays there for a bit, basking in the afterglow with you before getting up to get a wet towel to clean you up with as a bath runs. "Oh, you don't have to-" The stare he gives cuts you off as he wipes down your lower half, eyes narrowed at what you saying that now implies about how you were treated at home.

"I just fucked your pretty little brains out, sweetheart. I am not only obligated to clean you up and take care of you, but i want to. As any real man should." He emphasizes what shouldn't need to be said as he finishes wiping you down and goes back into his bathroom to finish up your bath. He carries you, despite protest, and sets you in as he says he's going to change his sheets. "Do... Do you maybe wanna stay over?" He's suddenly bashful, and it makes you wonder if the man who just made you cum harder than you have in years just a moment ago and this sweet, shy, country boy who can't seem to find your eyes is the same man. You nod, saying you'd like that. He finds your eyes then, dopey smile out in full as he hops off to clean his room.

He comes back just when you're clean and about to fall asleep, calling for you as he helps you out and dries you off, admiring your sleepy form as he slides a clean tshirt over your head. He guides you out this time, you smacking his hands when he tries to pick you up, his bed now dressed in a pretty deep grey color as he lets you lay down and get comfy. He's about to walk into the bathroom when your phone rings from the floor, you sucking your teeth at the ringtone. He rummages through your pants to find it again and frowns at it being the man neither of you wanna hear from. He does not the lack of guilt he feels about what happened tho. He hands it to your grabby hand and listens from the bathroom as you answer.

"Hello?... What does it matter what im doing?... I'm not at home, your dinner is in the oven. Is that not everything?... What you do in that house, in that bed is none of my business. I don't wanna hear about it either, not like i sleep there..... I have an attitude because you're bothering me... That's not even fair, what for?!... Sure, whatever. Move it i guess.... No, im not. Can i go now?" He hears you sigh and groan, but you seem to be off the phone, so he quickly hops in the shower before coming to cuddle with you in bed. The evening sun has set, the sky it's deep inky black through the window as he flicks on the tv to something neither of you pay attention to. He wraps you tight on his embrace and kisses your head, asking what your legal partner wanted. "He wants to use the guest room I'm staying in to house his little tramp because she's having 'family issues, don't be such a bitch. She's going through a hard time.'" You grown and half flail like you're having a tantrum, pressing your face into his chest. He grips even tighter, his blood boiling. That man has 0 respect and it shows so much.

"You can bring whatever things you don't want him to touch here." He offers, and you turn your sad, puppy like eyes to him. Even in the dark, under the mild light of his tv, he can see how glassy they are. It hurts his heart. "You can come by whenever you want, too. I'll never turn you away." You open your mouth, voice raspy with tears as you tell him of not wanting to intrude or be a burden but he stops you with a kiss. "Im not him. You will never be a burden to me. I mean it. Whatever or whenever, you always have a sizable place here." The tears fall but you smile at his sweetness, sharing kisses and sniffly thank you's with him. He pulls you on top of him, letting your head lay on his chest as he soothes his hands over your back, telling you to get some well deserved sleep. He thankfully doesn't miss your mutters of how much you like him already and how thankful you are before you're out cold. He places another kiss to your head, smiling as his own eyes close from his own exhaustion. Be it from fucking you like that or from being angry at your paper-only lover, he doesn't know or even care right now. He knows he'll have to explain himself to someone at some point, but that's a task for future Astumu.

Besides, he's just doing what his mama taught him was right, right?

Comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated! Hope you guys enjoyed! ♡´･ᴗ･`♡

[mimopapel]

Despite my neverending dislike for what they did to Edwina (and I'm not finished yet!!!) I still need to get other things off my chest, but I'll focus on all the Not Main Couple things so it's not a huge list:

- what is the need to have the queen involved in all the Whisledown business??? It feel they're just digging a bigger hole to throw Penelope into, what with already having all the businesses with Marina, and now having her disgrace the Bridgertons with Eloise's publication? The best two female relationships this season, Kate & Edwina and Eloise & Penelope, down the drain.

- Lady Featherington was never particularly pleasant (to put it MILDLY) and I had no need for them to show me what a good mother she is. I'm nos complaining, but definitely I didn't want as much screen time on it as we got

- Eloise just. I don't. I don't like it. I felt like it was all extremely over the place the whole season. I get that they wanted her to, I don't know, explore the world beyond the streets she lives in but, I don't get the need for her disdain? It feels like she blames everything even on the people trying to help her along and I just feel she's distancing herself from her family, like okay, you don't feel like you fit in, but it certainly doesn't seem like you try to find a way to do it, even if just to feel closer to the people that love you

- Anthony? paying? the university? for Benedict? Honestly it's just as if they wanted to fracture that family on porpoise. They might not share ALL their feelings with each other but wow thanks for erasing all comunication when it mattered

- Eloise and Penelope's fallout?????? To be completely honest, it seemed a plausible reaction, we don't know, the point of Eloise finding out on her wedding served to show that yes, put in contrast it really wasn't that important, but they had to go ahead and do that here? When they already threw the whole Marina and Theo thing in with the whole porpoise of engraving Pen's position to her friendship with Eloise. Also, Penelope saying that to her about her at least doing something, well, I can't help but agree. Like, a woman in a male lead society defying all the rules and making her own way in the world and getting money out of it? Sound amazing but in reality, that would have not looked pretty at all, which is pretty much Pen's position at that point in the season

- the Dorset dude served two small scenes, the admirable porpoise of getting Anthony's blood boiling, and vanished along with Francesca to God knows where it seems

- I don't want to be that person but I'll go there. No offense but why did I get one sex scene that wasn't even supposed to happen? I was a bit pissed the I Burn For You was out of commission due to it having been used in the first season (and honesty that "all the things I could teach you" scene was a WORTHY SACRIFICE OH MY GOD I DIED) but apparently this season was going to be spicier than last? It wasn't, that's okay, I don't mind, but that was definitely a lie right there and it's annoying

- What is with Lady Danbury having a hand in all the matchmaking? By the time they get to Hyacinth it will have gotten OLD. Also, she's such an outrageously fun character. I missed all the insults :(

- just. Francesca. Do you even exist, love? Are you a figment of my imagination? I understand the actress wasn't available but they even forgot to even give even a half-assed excuse? I understand she's not really there in the books either, but neither was Lady Featherington, or Madame Delacroix, or the Queen, or Theo, or Marina and they still appeared. And I get it, she's supposed to be a child still, but she's also supposed to be close to Eloise, and Gregory and Hyacinth haven't served such a major porpoise plot wise so far BUT THEY'RE THERE (though I loved that Anthony/Gregory scene at the end, that was a bit cathartic)

- I guess it still works but I did want Colin to know Penelope did, in fact, hear what he said about "never would court Penelope Featherington" because I needed that to be there between them

- overall just. Penelope. What are they doing to my girl

- with all the scandal they threw at the Bridgertons this season I honestly don't want to know what will happen went turns out Benedict is in love with a servant like, wow, they really did set the show in motion for my man didn't they

[mooniefics]

— beck and call

pairings : yelena / fem reader

word count : 10.2k

tags : one-sided relationship, lowkey master / servant dynamic, eventual smut, mild body worship, dom / sub undertones, power imbalance

warnings : contains nsfw, mildly dub-con at some points, yelena being physically rough w you for disobedience

summary : serving as yelena's personal guard turned out to yield many unexpected consequences.

to say that you were unnerved by the task of guarding an anti-marleyan volunteer would be an understatement.

you hadn't quite digested the fact there even existed a world beyond the walls that had towered over you for your entire life, looming high in the sky like a reminder that you would be trapped, penned like an animal for the rest of your prospective future. that had been your initial motivation to become a soldier, to at least advance to a garrison position where you could have a taste of exclusive information regarding what lay beyond the stone and metal bearings. but in the final year of your basic training, everything had changed. there were talks of outlandish things, of traitors from another land that had hidden amongst the native people, talks of islands and foreign soil and something more than the confines of the walls.

upon graduating, you had ultimately chosen the scouting legion, seeing how the garrison was quickly being disbanded and the remaining soldiers that hadn't stepped into their early days of retirement were joining the aforementioned regiment. the benefits only seemed to become greater and greater with the extinction of titans, the whispers of allies and retribution and rebuilding a lost legacy of your people. but somehow, all that novel luster had become muted, completely darkened by the imposing presence of this singular individual seated before you. you had only been debriefed on their name and role in military operations before your assignment, leaving you worryingly unprepared for arguably the most important assignment of your career.

the sound of your name passing from your squad leader's lips grounded you, the formal introduction quickly drawing to a close as he relayed the information to the striking foreigner. "she will be your personal escort for the remainder of your stay. if you have any questions regarding the island, feel free to ask her at any time."

"wonderful." their voice was rich, smooth with confidence and underlined with something unfamiliar—it was the way their lips rounded out the first syllable, or perhaps the way they spoke from the depths of their throat.

you felt your back stiffen as they rose from their seat, somehow rising taller and taller, their stature reaching much higher than anyone you'd ever met. immediately, your right hand clamped into a fist, thudding over your heart as your left arm hooked behind your back, spitting out your full name and designation just as you had while saluting hundreds of times. "i'm incredibly grateful for this opportunity to occupy you. thank you for all that you and the volunteers have done for paradis."

you were shocked that your voice hadn't quivered with the way their eyes dragged down your body, grey and barren of any emotion besides a hint of intrigue, sharp features framed by short, fair hair. they were strikingly handsome, masculine yet feminine at the same time, an indiscernible sort of beauty that perplexed and enthralled you.

"no need to thank me, soldier." whether they were assuring or commanding you, you didn't know, only cognizant of how they nearly purred out your title. swallowing, you lowered your hands, standing at ease and forcing yourself to not look to your superior for encouragement.

"then i shall show you to your lodgings. please follow me."

you forced yourself to turn your back to them and take a step, then another, mentally counting them one by one until you reached the door. you could hear their heavy footfalls following behind you, the distance steadily beginning to close until you forced your own pace to quicken. on the silent walk out of the management building, you had found a speed that worked, one long stride of theirs equaling two of yours, leaving you straining to keep a comfortable yet polite space between the both of you. you risked a glance back, having to crane your head up to catch a glimpse of their face. they had been staring idly at the back of your head, meeting your eyes when you turned to briefly face them, the moment cut short by your own haste to fix your view back onto the path before you.

"how shall i address you?" you attempted to fill the cool void of discomfort that had suddenly settled in the air around you, shoulders tense and brow taut.

"anything works."

their answer offered nothing in return to your inquiry, the faint image of their face flitting across your mind. you hadn't looked at them long enough to commit their features to memory, but you had looked enough to remember their startlingly cold eyes, angular nose and full lips, sharp jaw and heavy brow.

"m-miss yelena?" you attempted, fighting the urge to nervously fidget or give away any sign of your unease.

"if it suits you." was their final reply before the two of you fell silent once again.

the lack of discussion persisted through the remainder of the journey, the only sounds occupying the space being the fall of your boots against the ground and the jingle of your keyring that you drew from your pocket to unlock the front door. you stood aside to hold it open as she walked in, feeling an odd sensation flutter in the pit of your stomach when she had to duck under the frame to enter. the housing itself wasn't extravagant, only a single open room with a desk, bookshelf, dresser, kitchenette, bed, and a small bathroom area to the side to occupy the space, the ceiling seeming much lower than it was due to yelena's formidable height. she looked out at the room, flicking a stray lock of hair out of her eyes, face neutral and inexpressive.

"how quaint," she turned to face you, a prick of unease making your posture pin-straight once again, "is there any reason they've put us volunteers away from the main soldier barracks?"

your mind suddenly went blank at the worst of times, unknowing of the exact answer but knowing you had to over something in response. "s-simply for your comfort. we wouldn't like it to seem as if we don't trust you to stay on your own."

"ah, so considerate of you." for the first time she smiled, a barely-there tilt at the corner of her lips that made your heart stutter, "then i'll be sure to make myself at home."

she stepped slowly over to the bookshelf, dragging her fingers over the backs of the books with an apparent interest. you stayed standing where you were, unsure if you should leave then or wait a bit longer for just the right moment. something about her presence was unnerving, but there was also an undeniable allure that you almost gravitated to, despite her being a stranger.

"do you need anything else?" you piped up, letting your hands link behind your back, fingers twisting together.

"not that i can think of." each word seemed scripted, as if she'd practiced this entire conversation a dozen times before it'd ever happened.

"then i'll be on my way." you shakily smiled in an attempt to seem put together, hoping that she didn't immediately see through the weak front, "i'll be back in a couple of hours to escort you to dinner."

you bowed and took your leave, almost desperate to escape her all-consuming gaze and find refuge outside her line of sight. but even after you'd shut the door behind you and stepped off the porch, well on your way down the path you'd taken, you could still feel how her eyes had examined every fine detail of your stance, analyzing every shift and subtle movement you made with a calculating look. deep down, you already knew that this position would be completely exhausting from the get-go.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

you had fulfilled your typical nightly routine—fetch yelena from her quarters to escort her to the cafeteria, go your separate ways and sit at your usual tables after getting food, finish your dinner with five minutes to spare in the dining hour to go inform yelena that it was time for her to wrap up her meal so you could take her back. she'd followed you down the usual path, now lit with newly placed street lamps that turned on after the sun sunk below the horizon and night fell. there had been nothing out of the ordinary, aside from the way the volunteer table had eyed you with a formerly absent intrigue when you came to speak to yelena.

that comfortable distance you'd kept between the two of you had slowly been narrowing over the last few days, a development which had peaked both your curiosity and your anxiety. while you still kept yourself a few paces ahead of her, you could feel how close her presence had become, an almost physical weight that settled itself over your back and urged you to walk faster and faster to escape its grasp. but you knew that she was all too good at reading your body language, somehow having familiarized herself with even the finest idiosyncrasies that incriminated you in just about a month, an understanding that had only grown deeper as more and more time had passed. although you felt as if you'd gained the upper hand for a few days when you realized that she always let a bit of emotion slip in her large, ashen eyes when you said something just enough out of the ordinary to catch her interest, any progress you thought you'd made was quickly squandered by her own advancements. today was no different, another morning and afternoon filled with dodging the occasional pervasive question from her about the simplest of things.

were you an only child? had you been closer to your mother or father when you were younger? did you join the scouts to explore the world or because you simply found no value in living out your life doing something different? they had started out with an ambiguous end-goal, but slowly evolved into even more unprofessional matters—attempts to provoke a discussion about your love life, what you might look for in a prospective partner, whether you wanted to settle down after you retired or stay unattached for the remainder of your life.

you always dodged, and she always let up for a while, lulling you into a sense of safety that was always broken by that same question again, worded differently but asking for an answer that was the same as the last. the more you ran from her company, the more she seemed to push it upon you, pleased when you would slip up and get flustered when she caught you off guard. so you held your ground this evening, even when your fingers quivered at the realization that she was practically peering over your shoulder, watching you unlock the door to her quarters with just barely enough space separating you to not feel her breath fanning down the back of your neck.

you quickly opened the door and began moving to hold it open for her like you always did, but felt a large hand resting at your shoulder, prompting you to quickly spin on your heel to face her. she was usually finished with her casual interrogating by this hour, which was why you were more than surprised to see that she was staring down at you, having lowered yourself to your level enough for you to not have to tilt your head completely back to meet her eye.

you took an instinctive step back, flinching at the sound of the door falling shut behind you, effectively caging you in between it and the woman before you. pale, dangerously alert irises traversed your expression, drinking in every small feature that had been drawn back into a confused look, stomach already knotting into a twisted tangle of warmth and icy panic.

"are you afraid of me?"

the immediate answer sat on the tip of your tongue, lips parting to deliver the lie you had ready for such an inquiry. but something in her eyes spoke to you, silently, warning you not to give into dishonesty. you couldn't possibly admit to still being fearful of her, not when you were meant to be the powerful one in this relationship. you weren't supposed to say yes, but you also found yourself unable to lie as you always did, not when the path you'd walked with her was still worryingly empty and you felt the hard wood of the door now pressing unforgivingly into your back with each minuscule step back.

"sh-should i be?" you cursed your stammer, betraying your evident lack of control, the only redeeming aspect being the non-committal implication that responding with another question held.

that seemed to throw her off a bit, owlish eyes slowly blinking at you as she thought. even up close like this, you couldn't identify a single flaw in her appearance—pale skin smooth like porcelain, unconcerned by any sort of natural imperfections, hair like fine silk and eyes piercingly bright, yet clouded like a stormy sky. you squeaked at a hand seizing your collar, right hand instinctively flying down to the scabbard strapped around your thigh, clammy palm shakily clenching around the hilt of your blade, the other clamping firmly around her wrist.

she only smirked at the presumed threat, pressing herself even closer to you, enough that you could feel the radiant heat of her lips just barely grazing your own. you suppressed the trembling threatening to shake through your every limb, beginning to feel lightheaded with the effort to contain your quickening breaths, swallowing down your dread, forcing yourself to meet her gaze when she spoke.

"if it suits you. it doesn't affect me either way, does it?"

you just barely shook your head side to side, not realizing you were rising up onto your tiptoes until she pulled you forward that last inch by your shirt, eyes falling shut as her lips melded easily against yours. an inexplicable warmth flourished in your chest, heart tripping up to match the frantic speed of your thoughts, fingers clenching around her slender, clothed wrist. you forced yourself back with a sharp intake of breath, backing yourself far enough into the door that you could feel the wood digging into the small of your back.

"m-miss yelena, you can't—!"

she didn't allow you to finish, tugging you back to your previous position with a low huff, the faint snap of a stitch popping somewhere on your collar going unregarded as you let out a small noise of surprise, wide eyes relenting and squeezing shut. a voice in the back of your mind screamed for you to draw your knife, push her away, force her into her quarters, anything but just standing there and allowing her to exert such a humiliating power over you. but it was so much easier to sink into her grasp, to feel her fingers slowly relax and hold you at a comfortable height rather than force you up, to allow the hot flush of an unknown intimacy to settle deep into your skin.

you'd been kissed before, it wasn't as if she stole your first chance from you, but it had never been like this. you had only brushed the surface of gentle pecks and lingering hands on the other's face until you both giggled and pulled away, never faced with such a certain confidence that almost frightened you more than it allured you, an unspoken order that left you at her mercy rather than on equal footing. and though you'd all but forgotten about your initial rejection, yelena had not, chastising you with a firm bite to your lower lip that drew a less-than-composed whimper from the back of your throat.

"i would advise you to not dictate what i can and cannot do in the future." she stated firmly, tone devoid of any personal inflection, barely pulling away enough for you to meet her stare, hand tightening around your collar once more, "understood?"

"y-yes, miss yelena." you barely whispered, nodding affirmatively. a flicker of amusement momentarily lightened her expression when you drew your tongue over the aching skin of your lips, the taste of faint copper and black tea clinging to your taste buds.

she slowly slackened her grip, not even so much as blinking as she straightened her posture and reached past you to open the door, allowing you a moment to scamper out of her path and pull your shirt back into place with trembling hands. "then, you are dismissed, soldier."

she didn't spare you a second glance before proceeding into her quarters, shutting the door behind her without another word. you stood dumbly for a moment, licking over your bottom lip once more, just then realizing how shallow and quick your breathing was. you steadied yourself enough to lock her door, shaking away the mental fog of such an abrupt change of scenery, pulling your jacket tighter around you to make up for the lack of her warmth pressing into you, confused as to why you had just allowed yourself to be ordered around by the individual that you were meant to be keeping in check. the walk back to your dorm was blurry at best, a few good-nights from your colleagues that prompted a hum of acknowledgement, thankfully nothing that required you to recount your daily fulfilled duties or anything past a few minutes prior.

even after you'd shed your clothes, pointedly ignoring how wrinkled your shirt front had become, cleaned yourself up and crawled into the isolated comfort of your bed, you found yourself unable to sleep. perhaps you could learn from this experience, remind yourself at all times to put even more distance between the two of you. maybe you would have to stop conversing with her so casually, or perhaps your best option would be to cut your losses and request an assignment change, consequences or record mark-ups be damned. but as you tossed and turned on your mattress, burying your face into your pillows and trying to rid your skin of any memory of her touch, a voice at the back of your head ceaselessly murmured, a rambled premonition of more turbulence to come.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

this day marked five weeks since the initial incident, there had been no activity like it since—although you couldn't say whether you thought that was a bad thing or not. not to say that you hadn't been keeping your distance, the first few days were spent cautiously looking over your shoulder, making sure to keep her even further than arm's length but still close enough to guarantee that she couldn't slip away on her own. she behaved respectfully enough, although she herself seemed to be acting as if nothing had even happened, greeting you like normal and allowing you to escort her to meals and strategy meetings when necessary, despite how she'd affirmed that you weren't to give her any orders.

you hadn't reported the infraction to any superiors, knowing that you would get caught up in an unnecessary fuss that might even get you stuck at the bottom of the ranking list once again, an unthinkable outcome that only made you sure that the right decision was to keep your mouth shut. the previous afternoon was the first time yelena had made a special request, describing how unfortunate it was that she was lacking just a few proper amenities that would really make her lodgings "feel just like home". your persistent hesitance had eased after the first week of safety, and you fulfilled your responsibility of maintaining her comfort by arriving early this morning, toting a small bag of a dark ground powder and cups.

you were surprised to see that yelena was already awake upon your arrival, seated at a table that looked far too small for her, reading one of the many books from her provided bookshelf. you exchanged polite greetings, her not rising from her place until you'd lit the fire beneath the stove and set out a plate and cup for her at the counter, stowing away the rest in whatever free space you could find. you stood by while she took care of making whatever it was she wanted herself, noting the fragrant richness that had filled the air upon her steeping the powder in heated water.

"they only serve black tea in the cafeteria," she said, speaking to no one in particular, plucking a ladle from the utensil rack, "it's been ages since i had a cup of coffee in the morning."

the heat of the stove was beginning to warm the room, prompting you to shed your jacket and place it on the back of the chair yelena had not been previously seated at. your shirt beneath it was more forgiving, a thin material that had always hung a bit loosely from your shoulders, great for the hotter days when you were still expected to be in uniform.

"have you ever had a cup of coffee?" her voice interrupted your meandering stream of thought, the sound of liquid being poured into a cup faintly catching your attention.

"no, i don't think i have."

"would you like to try some?"

the offer stoked the spark of bothersome curiosity, the scent filling the air and mingling with the ambient sound of crackling wood and the feel of the hot air making you want to accept. perhaps this was her way of making amends, or just doing something pleasant for the worker that she was made to follow behind like their second shadow.

"if it's not too much trouble, then.."

"of course it isn't."

you felt a light sweat beginning to bead down your back, pulling your handkerchief from your pocket and dabbing at your neck. this space wasn't properly suited for a stove to be used, seeing as the unlatching mechanisms on the window had been removed for the sake of thwarting any sort of curfew breaking by the volunteers, meaning there was little ventilation aside from the small chimney extending out of the kitchenette area. you stole a glance at yelena, now opening the cabinet that you had strained to reach with ease.

the memory of her hand fisting your shirt, the collar that now hugged just the slightest bit looser at the base of your neck, the long healed-over bite that had left the soft flesh of your lips feeling raw for the following few days. the external heat of the still burning stove was only intensified by the flush climbing up to your cheeks, the desire to release a button or two on your shirt and free some of your skin to the open air becoming undeniable. it felt a bit ironic that the one time you'd properly stepped into her quarters for more than a quick minute to help her get something sorted was the one time the tension that always hung in the air between the two of you was replaced by something tangibly suffocating, the sweltering heat that made you kick off your blankets in the dreary silence at night when the recollection of her kiss relentlessly looped in your mind and chased away any thought of sleep.

you hooked a finger on the collar of your shirt, gently tugging it to the side to absentmindedly press the soft cloth over the skin, wiping away any bothersome perspiration that would leave you uncomfortable by the time you were allowed to change out of your uniform and shower it away.

"what's that?" your eyes darted up at her question, catching sight of the two plated teacups in her hands before you met her gaze.

"i beg your pardon?" you asked meekly.

"that. at your shoulder." you glanced down to where your handkerchief had previously been.

"oh, do you mean this?" she nodded when you pointed to the raised line of skin marring your shoulder, a thick scar that you'd stopped fussing over after realizing that it was an inevitable outcome. "it's a scar," you clarified, tucking your personal cloth back in your pocket, "just about everyone in the military has the same one."

she didn't respond, but held your gaze as she proceeded to the table to set the cups down. you'd become more accustomed to these silent requests, and you knew that she was telling you to continue.

"you work with the equipment engineers, right?" she nodded. "then you've seen our harnesses. all those leather straps end up digging into our skin and leaving scars pretty much all over. although, i did practice on the omnidirectional gear a bit more than all the other recruits during basic training to increase my proficiency, so mine may be deeper.."

you tensed as she approached, slow, deliberate steps steadily closing the distance between the two of you until she was right in front of you. she had started stooping down more often around you, only when she was directly addressing you alone, but it was something that you noticed all the same. a part of you wanted to feel offended, that she thought it necessary to lower yourself to your level as if you were beneath her in a way besides physical stature, but you couldn't deny that you enjoyed the exclusive treatment. she never seemed concerned with doing any sort of thing with anyone else—not with her colleagues, not with other soldiers of or below your ranking, not with any of your own superiors, only you. in a way, it made you feel acknowledged.

"could i see?"

"huh?" was your unprofessional response, but she didn't allow you any time to correct it.

"your scars. where else do you have them?"

"oh." you swallowed, forcing yourself to look up into her steely eyes, "well, i have them on the soles of my feet, and around my thighs, mostly around my torso."

a hand on your abdomen made your back go stiff, her touch pressing lightly over your shirt. "here?"

you nodded, small and timid before her, a trickle of sweat beginning to slide down your back. you realized that you had never had to look down at yelena, not until this present moment where she had knelt down on one knee in front of you, holding your gaze for just a moment before she undid a single button from the bottom of your shirt, glancing up at you as if to check for any sign of refusal before she undid another, then another.

there was nothing forceful about her motions today, nimble fingers patiently unfastening each clasp with care until your shirt revealed your midsection. one slender hand pulled aside the cotton fabric, the other reaching out, just barely grazing the skin of your stomach where the long, pale scar from your utility belt stretched horizontally across your body. her fingertips were warm from handling the kitchenware, but the shiver that crawled up your spine was cold, almost electric, a strange sensation squeezing around your heart and lungs, making each breath quicker than the last.

"was it painful?" she asked quietly, a tinge of earnesty lining her words, features entirely relaxed as they always were.

you let out a breath you didn't know you'd been holding, voice barely reaching a whisper. "yes."

she focused her eyes onto the marred skin, following the raised line of flesh to your sides, brow cinching upwards the slightest bit at the sight of another carving down your waist, following the curvature of your ribs.

"what resilience.." she murmured, free hand returning to undo the remaining buttons of your shirt, "determination is such a beautiful trait, don't you think?" her eyes flitted up to meet yours, sharp and observant, fingers gingerly wrapping around your waist, thumb stroking down your lumbar. "for most, i have to hear it in their voice, or through their words—but it has always been different with you." she pulled a button free. "i see it in your eyes, the way you carry yourself, it's written all over your body." another undone button, you could feel the warmth of her breath fanning across your stomach, the graze of her fingertips tracing up your side and halting at the cloth wrappings over your breasts. "are there more under this?"

your knees felt a few flattering words away from buckling, each gentle touch making the fine hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. you nodded, lips parting to take in a much-needed deep breath, realizing that your shirt was now completely open, exposing the entirety of your scarred torso aside from what remained covered by your chest bindings. your fingers curled into your palm, trembling, just then noticing how soft yelena's hands were in comparison to your own, absent of callous and work-roughened skin. you bit at the inside of your cheek, blinking down at her as you watched a thin finger trace the seam of the cloth, finding the tucked end within moments and gently pulling it free.

a few loud knocks at the door were startling enough to make you jump, head snapping to the side to face the front of the house, a muffled call of your last name from the other side making an anxious knot twist painfully tight deep in your gut. you quickly stepped away, leaving yelena kneeling on the floor, struggling to button up your shirt without even bothering to fix your chest cloth. as soon as you'd gotten yourself situated, you opened the door to find your squad leader awaiting you on the other side.

"is everything alright? breakfast started five minutes ago."

you hoped that the disbelief on your face could be taken as the expression of someone who had simply lost track of time. "i apologize, sir! m-miss yelena put in a request for marleyan coffee yesterday, and i was simply waiting for her to finish before i escorted her to the cafeteria."

you forced yourself to stay composed, trying to focus on the impassive face of your squad leader. there was a stark difference between the emotionlessness of yelena and that of everyone else around you, she somehow made her lack of any sort of feeling or warmth a beautiful kind of coldness, unlike the unnatural stoicism of your superiors. you saw his mouth open to reply, but you were both surprised by a sudden presence behind you, a firm hand at your shoulder, his eyes moving from looking down at you to looking up at the woman behind you, a flicker of genuine unease flitted across his hardened features.

"please don't fault her for my lack of punctuality," she said, a false sincerity lightening her usual low tone, "i simply wanted to enjoy a taste of home, is all. is my presence imperative?"

"i was only making sure everyone was accounted for." your squad leader asserted, staring up at her in an obvious attempt to intimidate that you knew would fail, "as long as you're being properly monitored, do as you please."

"understood." her fingers curled around your shoulder, gently urging you back, away from the door, "then i won't dawdle any longer, i'll join you all in the cafeteria momentarily."

yelena shut the door for you as soon as you took a step back, waiting until the steps of your squad leader had descended off of the porch and disappeared down the path before speaking to you. "i do hope i didn't get you in trouble."

you turned on your heel to face her, feeling a slight flutter in your chest at the sight of her already having lowered herself to your height. "oh, no, you don't have to worry about that.. he's always been a bit on the uptight side of things."

the corners of her lips perked up into the faintest smile before she proceeded back to the table, pressing a finger to the side of one of the teacups. "the coffee's gone cold now. my apologies for the distraction."

distraction, the wry thought flitted across your mind. you guessed that word was suitably to describe allowing her to nearly undress you before the sun had even fully risen in the sky. this was becoming a dangerous game, an ever-lengthening round of cat and mouse, and each day that passed made your more and more certain that you were the one who was running despite your inherent position of power over her. there was something absolutely captivating about her, whether it be the air of mystery that no amount of questions could dispel, or the way that she could practically bring you to your knees with just a few careful words—the more thought you put into it, the more instances of appeal that you seemed to find that only made you want to sink deeper and deeper into the depths that was her subtle control over you.

"i just don't want us to arrive late and miss out on anything." you said lamely, empty words to fill the air as you moved across the room to grab your jacket.

"perhaps another time." she replied, removing the dishes from the table to deposit them in the sink, leaving you with that sole promise that insinuated much more than just another cup of coffee.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"miss yelena, i don't know if we're allowed to be in this section of the building—"

"no one has stopped us yet, have they?" yelena didn't turn back to address you, only continuing forward with that long stride that took two quick steps of your own to match.

she was correct in the regard that no one had questioned her presence in the west wing of the management building, and the few that had begun to object stopped immediately upon catching sight of you following obediently behind her. you felt a bit like a prop, being used as almost a badge of clearance by the one and only individual that you were meant to keep from unauthorized locations such as this one. but her flat assertion that she had important business that gave you nothing in the way of information of direction before she'd taken off for the barracks, leaving you only able to chase after her and hope that no one figured out that she wasn't supposed to be there in the event that she truly wasn't meant to be.

you didn't have long to ruminate on your circumstances before you arrived at a door flanked by a single soldier, a young man that you recognized as someone affiliated with the more well-known soldiers from the 104th graduating class. though you didn't recall his name, you nodded politely to him as he opened the door for yelena, trailing closely behind her while still trying to peek around her slender frame. it was one of the smaller meeting rooms, a large window providing a fair amount of natural illumination down onto the round table, the sole occupant being another one of the anti-marleyan volunteers.

"glad to see you could make it." onyankopon smiled broadly up at yelena, his warm gaze flitting to you momentarily before traveling back to his associate, "no trouble, i assume?"

"none at all." she replied as she took a seat at the head of the table, looking as if she belonged there more than any of the superiors you'd seen seated there, "this one made sure no one interrupted our trip."

you flushed at the praise, standing pin straight beside her chair, hands lowering from behind your back to at your sides, trying not to let the enjoyment of her commendation show on your face. he turned his attention to you, inspiring a quick skip of your heart, fingers tapping nervously at your thighs.

"it's great to hear that yelena has been treating you well." he said matter-of-factly, but a cocked eyebrow and tilt of his head seemed to request a verbal confirmation of his statement.

you blinked, your words catching in your throat as your eyes involuntarily glanced to yelena, an instinctive desire to hold your tongue in the face of speaking about her, an odd sort of insecurity concerning your character flaring in your chest. but that split second of silence was all that she needed to take up the task of answering onyankopon, planting an elbow down on the tabletop and resting her chin in her palm.

"i have been treating her well." she affirmed, almost sounding bored, tilting her head to address you as she reached out and took the hand of yours that was closest to her, drawing it close to her face as she examined your expression, "isn't that right?"

you swallowed, mouth dry, nodding at yelena before remembering that you were meant to be answering onyankopon. "oh, y-yes. miss yelena has been very easy to work with."

pale eyes glimmered at your positive answer, mouth twitching upwards into that rare, barely noticeable smile. you felt your heart jump into your throat as she brought her lips to your knuckles, planting a soft, brief kiss over the back of your hand before gently placing it down at your side. she looked at you as if she knew exactly what you were thinking, like she could hear that unspoken worry of whether she should be doing this in front of her colleague, like she was giving the silent reply that she could do as she pleased.

"then, shall we begin?" onyankopon's voice brought you back to the present, shooting you another momentary glance before fixing his eyes on yelena.

"oh, right." she turned back to you, "be a dear and leave us for a moment to chat."

the mix of confusion at her request and surprise at the affectionate title halted your thoughts. "i'm sorry, miss yelena, but i don't think i'm allowed to do that."

your heart sank as you watched a look of annoyance draw across her features, large eyes narrowing, brow knitting together. she didn't speak for a moment, almost like she was waiting for you to take back your refusal and head on your way without any further discussion. when you did neither, she frowned, reaching out her hand once more, her fingers drawing up your palm to wrap around your wrist.

you nearly yelped as she clinched her grasp almost painfully tight, thumb pressing down hard over the bone at the side of your wrist, nails digging in your skin. her voice was low when she spoke, dangerously commanding and castigating, each word carefully enunciated.

"i said go."

only after you'd earnestly nodded did she release you, allowing you to scamper out of the room, blinking away the tears that had begun to well in your eyes from your stinging skin and the way she'd spoken to you. you took your place at the side of the door unoccupied by the soldier you'd seen before entering, fingers shakily tracing over the underside of your wrist.

though you weren't bleeding, the skin felt raw and irritated, your pulse racing fast in your veins. perhaps it wasn't so bad that you'd left them in there on their own, seeing as the older, more experienced guard was also standing by, well aware that there was no one monitoring them in the meeting room. so you obediently stood and waited, straining to make out coherent words from their muffled voices, contemplating why seeing yelena upset with you was so distressing.

why had you allowed her to order you around? why had you even complied with her demands instead of outright refusing like you were supposed to? why were you worried that she would still be angry with you by the time she walked out of that meeting room? you couldn’t understand what concerned you so deeply about what yelena thought of you, but somehow, the overbearing silence of the empty hallway made it even more difficult to wrap your head around your thoughts. you were so wrapped up in your panicked attempt at contemplation that you didn’t even notice the sound of their footsteps approaching from the other side of the door, only torn from your mind when the door opened from beside you. the two marleyans emerged, laughing affably together, exchanging temporary farewells until they could see each other at dinner that evening.

you looked up at her anxiously, wishing she’d spare you a glance for even just a moment instead of keeping her gaze fixed on the only other individuals populating the space. you hid your hands behind your back rather than in your pockets, knowing that it’d look horrendously unprofessional. but before you could worry about anyone catching sight of the reddened marks, the familiar soldier addressed you directly.

“i do look forward to working more closely with you in the future, i don’t believe we’ve met before. ” he said, outstretching a hand for you to shake, “floch forster.”

you quickly tugged the sleeve of your coat over your injured wrist, grasping his hand and giving a firm up and down, only offering your own name and a polite nod in return. you didn’t exactly know what he meant by working together in the future, but you assumed that it was in reference to your shared position of personal guards to marleyan volunteers.

you tensed at the familiar weight of a hand on your shoulder, feeling a firm squeeze that you knew all too well. “then we shall be going now. come.”

you immediately complied, giving a brief goodbye to the two men before proceeding quickly behind yelena, practically at her heels as the two of you walked further and further down the hall, shrouded in another bout of tense silence. you escorted her out of the building without issue, through the barracks and all the way to her lodgings, receiving nothing in the way of assurance or acknowledgment the entire way.

you wanted to speak up for yourself, ask if she was angered with you, anything to fill the quiet void, but you couldn't bring your mouth to push the words free. you hoped that she'd at least offer you her usual goodbye, as inherently lifeless and out of polite necessity as it may be, but it didn't come even as you unlocked the door to her quarters and held it open for her to enter, not even turning back before she sat herself at her desk and got to work on the clutter of papers occupying it.

you left her, feeling strangely heavy with defeat, unable to focus on anything for long before your mind strayed back to her upset expression, or the physical evidence of her displeasure with you. over the next hours, you constantly checked your watch, counting down the minutes to dinner, to when you'd be able to justify being in her presence and hopefully receive some sort of indicator that you were in the clear. you'd always been someone who did what was asked of you, a people pleaser—but there was something different about the inclination you felt towards yelena. it wasn't the kind of obedience that you gave to your superiors, she wasn't anything close to your superior in a technical sense, but somehow it felt natural, a servitude borne out of free will rather than one determined by ranking.

you knew you hadn't done anything wrong by denying her initially, but yet you still hoped for her forgiveness.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

you quivered at the feeling of her lips sucking at the already marked skin of your neck, thighs squeezing tighter around her waist, her nails digging deep enough into them that they nearly threatened to tear the fabric of your pants. you swallowed down yet another moan, one hand working its way deeper into her short hair, the other clenching tightly to the fabric of her barely-buttoned dress shirt. your soft, shuddering breaths filled the space of the open air around you, the fear of knowing your squad leader was just outside the door waiting for a reply, adjacent to the wall that she'd pushed you up against despite your meek warnings that dinner would be starting any minute now, was almost tangible in your stomach.

she pulled away from the reddened flesh with a low hum, nipping at your ear as she demanded, "make him go away."

you barely nodded, eyes screwing shut when she began yet another bruising assault to your shoulder, not even giving you enough time to collect yourself and speak. "i apologize, s-sir. miss yelena wasn't f-feeling well, so i brought her meal h-h-here instead of escorting her to the cafeteria..!"

you nearly whimpered as her teeth sank into the soft junction between your neck and shoulder, silently praying to any higher power that may be listening for your superior to just leave already. "understood. please return the plates to the cafeteria before they close up and make it to the dormitories before curfew."

"y-yes, sir..!"

you could barely count his descending steps down the porch over the sound of your own blood roaring in your ears, only completely assured of his absence when she sighed against your skin, soothing the ache with a few apologetic licks, pressing her lips everywhere they could reach. you often found yourself recalling the first time this had happened, when the two of you were sitting at the table in her quarters and she had been apologizing for the day she'd ordered you out of the meeting room. you could still remember how her touch had trailed from stroking at your wrist, crescent nail prints still occupying your skin, to cupping your face, drawing you close to kiss her again and again—the heat of her proximity, how her hands had felt and caressed every inch of your body, whispering a breathless, endless stream of praises into your ear as you came apart under her.

though you had vowed to yourself that wouldn't allow it to happen again, that that night would be your first and only instance of giving into that weakness she'd slowly but surely carved into you, but you found yourself sinking into her arms when she beckoned you, sewing the buttons of your shirt back into place without complaint after the nights where she had become impatient and accidentally popped them free, staring at your naked body in the mirror after your long showers and tracing your fingers over the bruises she'd sucked and bitten into your tender skin.

she only marked you in places where you could hide them beneath your clothes, places which assured that she would be the sole individual to see them when she stripped you bare, only to add more and more. there was no set time between those late evenings, sometimes the interval would be less than a few days, and other times it would stretch out for weeks with no indication as to when the next occasion would come. but when it did, any semblance of self-restraint had completely diminished.

"you're such a good pet for me.." she cooed, her words sending a warm spark through every inch of you.

she'd become fond of calling you that, and a part of you wondered if that was all she saw you as, as only a pet or a possession. you'd accepted that she had the upper hand in this relationship, whatever it may be, but you couldn't help enjoying the feeling of being desired so deeply, being touched and admired in ways you'd never even imagined before you met her. your arms clasped tighter around her neck as she pulled you away from the wall, laying you out on her bed, taking a moment to strip out of her shirt before lowering herself on top of you.

her hands busied themselves ridding you of your chest wrappings, lips attentively traversing each inch of newly revealed skin, murmuring curses and sweet nothings that only made you squirm more beneath her, impatient and eager. you mewled when she'd finally settled her hands over her bare breast, large palms pressing into soft flesh, slender fingers pinching at your nipples. she turned her head up to kiss you, tongue outlining the seam of your lips before sliding into your mouth, claiming it as her own.

you were left panting when she pulled away despite its briefness, hazy, low-lidded eyes finding her own, intoxicated by that carnal look, dark pupils nearly overtaking the piercing grey of her irises. she only smirked at your lack of composure, dipping her head back down to suck and bite at the valley of your breasts, your fingers reflexively tightening in her hair. your hips bucked up into nothing, desperate for any sort of friction, much to yelena's amusement.

"aren't you just the neediest little thing?" she paused to lave her tongue over a pert bud, drawing another heated sigh from you as you nodded, hoping that your agreement could persuade her to not spend so much time teasing you.

she granted you the slightest relief, taking your nipple between your lips and sucking at it, the hand not occupied with another breast trailing down the scar etched into your side, following the path down to your navel to begin unbuttoning your pants. each second seemed to drag on longer than the last, and though you knew that she wasn't purposely drawing out the process of undressing you, it was still not enough. you were practically kicking your underwear to the floor by the time they made their way around your ankles, skin still burning hot despite being fully exposed to the air.

"p-please, miss yelena.." you whimpered at the feeling of her hand tracing up and down your inner thigh, occasionally stopping to stroke across the raised lines of skin that had been inscribed into your skin by the series of belts and buckles on your gear harness, but never proceeding that final inch up to where you needed it.

she pulled away to let out a low chuckle, peering up at you through dark lashes, bare chest pressed flush against your stomach. she drank in the way your face shifted as she rested the pad of her thumb over your clit, rubbing languid circles over it as her pointer finger dipped down your cunt, instantly slick with your arousal.

"you're so worked up from just that?" she taunted, speaking at barely a murmur, "or was it because somebody was listening?"

you felt the knot of anticipation drawing tight in the pit of your stomach, watching as she took her fingers in her mouth and licked over them, thighs shuddering when she returned to their previous position. "i-it was— i j-just— please.."

you could barely form a coherent thought, back arching up to urge your body as close to hers as you could manage, only cognizant of just how close you were to being relieved of that unbearable pressure welling within you. she only smiled, close-lipped and cunning, resting her head over your heaving chest.

"your heart is racing. i wonder how much faster i could make it go.."

you nearly whined as two fingers slid into you with little resistance, her mouth closing over a nipple, alternating between gently tugging at it with her teeth and flicking over it with the tip of her tongue. your hips rocked up into her hand, matching the pace of her wrist as your head dug back into the mattress, moans and incoherent pleas spilling from your parted lips.

you could feel yourself quickly approaching that rapturous peak, hands fisting the sheets under you, white stars blotting out your vision as she curled her fingers just right. you shuddered, gasping, eyes rolling aimlessly into the back of your head as the tension that had wound itself into every muscle finally released, coming completely undone beneath her. you pressed a shaking hand over your mouth, muffling the sound of your winded breaths, letting out a small noise when she relieved you of her fingers. you felt her lips grazing over your chest, forcing your head up to look at her with bleary eyes when their feather-light touch proceeded lower and lower down your stomach.

you had expected things to come to an end as they usually did, with her pulling her clothes back on before you even had the chance to see straight and gathering your own garments from the floor to hand to you, leaving you to walk back to your dormitories on trembling legs in your wrinkled uniform. but there was no sign of that immediate withdrawal as she gathered your thighs in her hands, lifting your legs up onto her shoulders as she pressed a brief kiss over your naval.

you licked your lips nervously, already more than too sensitive at just the feeling of her breath over your soaked cunt. you opened your mouth to meekly object or ask for just a moment longer to catch your breath, but she shushed you, her heavy-lidded gaze sending a fresh bout of heat across your skin. each little quiver of your thighs only made her grip fasten, unable to keep still as she kissed at the scars and soft flesh, drawing a stifled whimper when she stopped to suck a deep mark at a spot of untarnished skin.

you could see the pale expanse of yelena's back, pristine and absent of any previous traumas, the complete opposite of your own. the first time you'd see her undressed, you couldn't take your eyes off of her slender frame, lined with muscle from her days as a soldier but still so delicate. you'd never left any marks when she'd allow you to kiss at her neck and chest, only enough to see the rosy flush settle over her body, but by that time she was more than eager to get back to playing with you instead.

you took in a deep, unsteady breath, jaw clenching and stomach tightening as her tongue drew flat up the length of your cunt, a small moan breaking from your parted lips. she pressed forward, flicking the tip of her tongue over your clit in a merciless rhythm, holding your thighs apart to accommodate her presence each time they attempted to squeeze shut. you writhed over the sheets, her name slipping from you between high-pitched whines and labored breaths, minutes melting past in an incomprehensible blur, leaving you only cognizant of her tongue and hands dragging you back over that edge again and again.

by the time she'd released you, you could barely hold your eyes open, thighs aching from her fingers digging into them, throat raw from crying out for her and gasping in what never seemed to be enough air, feeling too exhausted to even think about making the walk back to your own room. but rather than hand your clothes to you in a silent cue for your departure, you watched her make her way back up the mattress to lay beside you, pulling your heavy, sweat-slicked body against her own. you couldn't try to refuse the comfort of her warmth, face pressing into her chest, breathing in her soft, clean scent, still occasionally trembling as you tentatively allowed your hands to cling to her.

you told yourself not to get comfortable, to try to regain control of your limbs by the time her sympathy for overworking you had worn off and she ordered you away for the night, but the demand never came. you felt a large hand settle at the base of your neck, another splaying across the small of your back, her chin resting on the crown of your head, holding you close like a lover would.

"you could stay for the night if you'd like." her tone was even and collected as it always was, but hushed, like she was murmuring a secret to you.

you knew that sleeping her had already far overstepped whatever boundary had been abandoned that night she'd first kissed you, the morning where she'd marveled at your body and commended your courage, every instance you'd obeyed her rather than carry out the simple orders you were given. it was already too late to tear yourself away from this presence that you'd grown so familiar with—the one that you had feared, the one that you now craved despite how you knew you shouldn't.

"thank you, miss yelena." you whispered hoarsely, curling into her, allowing your heavy eyes to close.

that would be the first and last time you ever spent the night in her quarters.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the banquet to celebrate the completion of the rail system in trost was minutes away from commencing. the speaking podium was empty for the moment, soldiers and civilians chattering amongst themselves as they waited for the military officials to gather at the stage. you were authorized to be in the private area as yelena's personal escort, seeing as she had participated in the mapping of the railroad through the district and would be acknowledged as a contributor to the advancement of paradis.

but as excited as you were to celebrate, eat good food and hopefully get a chance to drink, you weren't looking forward to transferring your position to floch forster for the remainder of the night. although, your desire to stay by yelena's side had been momentarily dissuaded by the desire to please her when she'd requested the change a few days prior. you hadn't bothered to hide your disappointment, nor did you hold back your questions.

"change to forster? but.. why?" you had asked, in the privacy of her quarters, feeling an immediate disheartening at her words.

she didn't directly respond, the hand that had been at your shoulder rising to pet at your cheek. "you trust me, don't you?"

"y-yes, but—"

"then file a request to change with him."

you couldn't explain why you had felt such a cool emptiness burrowing into your chest, a sudden spite for the other soldier beginning to fester in the back of your mind, the thought that she would choose him over you inspiring an indescribable irateness. you turned away from her hand, not thinking of how you were pouting like a child, unwilling to meet her eyes or compromise with her. you'd been fretting over how she hadn't spared you any sort of affection in the nearly two months that had passed, the fear that she'd grown tired of you an incessant whisper in your ear. but then she had reached for you, treated you gently, persuading with that hint of sincerity she rarely ever showed you.

"it would only be for the evening, i have business to attend to that night. i'm sure you've been looking forward to the celebration?" a frown tugged at your lips, only offering a small nod in reply, meeting her eyes when she guided you by your chin to face her. "then transfer with forster, have fun for the evening—you deserve it."

you couldn't help but preen under her praise, meeting her eyes, heart stuttering at the sight of her barely-there smile. you finally caved after a moment of thought, relenting to her wishes. "i'll put in a temporary transfer request tomorrow afternoon."

"thank you, dear."

despite how you weren't exactly looking forward to forster's arrival to relieve you from duty, those final words lifted your spirits just the slightest bit. perhaps she had simply been caught up in the stress of such a grand achievement, too busy attending meetings with engineers and generals and event staff to make any spare time for you for the past weeks. you had waited for weeks before, you could continue waiting if need be. you were at her beck and call, and as long as it pleased her, you were perfectly fine doing as such.

you let out a soft sigh at the sigh of floch forster approaching, weaving through the scattered crowd with a stoic, dutiful look plastered across his expression.

"good evening, floch." yelena said from beside you.

he replied with a polite good evening to both you and her, adding your name as more of an afterthought than anything, but turning his focus back to you when you still hadn't stepped away. "you can go, i'll take it from here."

your gaze flickered over to yelena, feeling yourself relax as she nodded to you, a hand resting at your shoulder to gently urge you forward. "i'll see you tomorrow morning. enjoy yourself tonight."

so you took your leave, watching the ceremony in the company of your fellow soldiers, eyes always wandering away from the speaker and to yelena at the side of the stage. the speech concluded, the crowd cheered and applauded, and everyone was directed to the banquet hall where the remainder of the event would be held. you watched yelena and floch walk off the stage with the other officials, becoming distracted for just a moment speaking to someone but having lost sight of them by the time you looked back.

you didn't see yelena for the remainder of the night, but you did as you were told, enjoying the good food, talking to your friends, avoiding any alcohol in preparation for your usual early morning. it was all over quite quickly, and the next morning came and went, business as usual for the remainder of the next few days—then came the news of eren jaeger's disappearance, then the plans of the all-hands-on-deck operation that was to be the retrieval effort for the young man, the entire scouting branch thrown into overdrive.

and, though you never mustered the courage to ask, you felt a sinking feeling deep inside, that yelena's nightly errand with floch and eren's absence were somehow connected, that there was much more going behind the scenes that you couldn't even begin to fathom.

just wanted to give u guys a little gift for my birthday (´･ᴗ･ ` )

[welcome-to-the-cafe]

SHANG-CHI (2021) Review Pt. 3

This section will focus more on the potential cultural impact and reflections of the movie.

Good things first. This was a great movie for Asian-American representation. On face value, it was a huge rather well-promoted movie (in my opinion, but that could just be my algorithms) under arguably the most internationally renown franchise today, Marvel. It featured empowered and attractive Asian male leads, empowered and attractive Asian female leads, a glorious, dreamy romance between two of them, and multiple humanizing familial relationships that don't simply recycle the old "modern freedom vs oppressive tradition". Each Asian character is a fully fleshed person, as is due, and clear authentic effort is made to celebrate their backgrounds, from the action to settings to costumes to language to the jokes.

And the Asian-American jokes land very well, especially the ones that highlight how different each individual Asian-American 's experience, and familiarity with their heritage, can be. Central to this is Katy, of course, essentially the audience surrogate, the audience being both nonAsians and "standard" Asian-Americans. She is bad at Chinese, even as her own grandmother speaks it. She defies her mom's (gentle) expectations of her, she is amazed and somewhat intimidated by her heritage in full form. The other characters who are closer to their native culture are gentle with her unfamiliarity: Shang-Chi walks her through pronunciation, Ronny Chieng's character assures her "Don't worry I speak ABC", and even Wenwu treats her kindly as a guest, and doesn't put her down for her Americanness. Well other than the patronizing storytelling tone, but that's the villainous patronizing, not the "you are uncultured" patronizing. Even in the village, they look down on her mostly on account of her not having martial arts skills and being ambitionless, than of her Americanness.

Similarly, Shang-Chi's struggle with his father did not use his time in America, and his potential Americanizing, as much of a pain point. I appreciate this, and the gentleness to Katy, greatly, as it dances around the culture conflict narrative that so frequently plagues other Asian American media (looking at you Crazy Rich Asians). As such, Wenwu is not evil because he is more Chinese/traditional, he is so because of the very human pain of losing his wife. Also he was a ruthless immortal warlord. And his children are not good due to their separation from their heritage; they are good because of their ties to each other and their mother, and her heritage from the village, which also traditional. Like an equation, the culture on the good and bad sides cancel out, and you are left with a largely culture-neutral narrative, while Chinese culture itself is shown off more.

Most of the characters are Asian, the non-Asians are very tertiary. In this, the movie functions as normal Asian media does; in removing the racial differences, the characters level with each other as people, instead of as representatives of their heritage. Speaking of native Asian media, I will now explain how this movie, for all of its virtues, will still serve the same ultimate function as Crazy Rich Asians and Mulan in terms of cross-national relations.

This was an American movie. Featuring Asian culture, yes. But an American movie nonetheless. Its action scenes would probably stand up well against native Chinese media, but its overarching presentation would be seen as incredibly cheesy, and probably somewhat patronizing, to a Chinese viewer. What are those costumes? What are those Ta Lo "traditional clothes"? Straw Huts? Why the fuck does Death Dealer have face paint? What are those ridiculous hook swords and tassle helmets? Oh hey its the mythical beasts they see in every wuxia fantasy movie.

I liked a comparison I read on social media; it is like presenting orange chicken as a dish specially made for your Chinese guest. The dish may be good, but that is besides the point; it is insulting for you to expect them to appreciate your facsimile of their culture. In this metaphorical scenario, you may be a Chinese-American, but your weird attempt to reference your heritage only highlights the divide. They eat better Chinese food all the time anyways, this orange chicken may be a direct downgrade. Did you expect them to be happy just because you, the American, made it for them? Are you looking down on them?

It is better for you to make a pizza or a fettuccini alfredo for them. This equivalent would be the World of Warcraft movie, with no Asian references whatsoever.

I remember when Avatar: The Last Airbender came out, and my 3rd grade self was so excited to see the Chinese armor designs on the fire nation, the kung-fu inspired bending styles, and more. But now, I feel a bit strange seeing how much obsession is given to this series by the Asian-American community. For all its acclaim and AsAm representation, it is virtually unknown to native Asians, unlike the notorious Resident Evil live-action movie series. I wonder, if most Chinese-Americans had watched more Chinese wuxia and fantasy, they would be as excited about ATLA?

This is also related to how Westerners are discovering Tony Leung for the first time, and some Asians say "we been knew". But how many AsAm actually did know? For how many Asian-Americans did it take Shang-Chi to introduce them to this legend, and his previous body of work?

Why was I so excited to be represented in a cartoon, even if I did watch Journey to the West growing up? Could it be because finally it was something with Asians in it that the kids around me also watched? Maybe. I could go on and on about Sun Wukong, but nobody cared, while Prince Zuko was somebody everyone knew and rooted for.

So in this way, Shang-Chi, despite being mildly offensive to the motherland (for which the movie does not even have a release date), is still very important and positive to us stateside. I feel a little bad for Simu that his homeland may not appreciate his greatest work so far, but maybe it doesn't bother him that much; he is now a hero to almost the entire Asian-American community. I hope Tony Leung can be the movie's saving grace for native markets. I also hope that Chinese watchers would understand why this movie is important for the diaspora, even if they don't enjoy the movie itself.

Oh, and finally, I hope Chinese-Americans don't hold their motherland in contempt for disliking this movie. It's not for them! Cut them the slack! And go watch their movies and media! It may not have jokes about the immigrant experience, but it is effective representation. Watch Asian movies! With your family, with your friends! Western media is not the center of the universe, and it never deserved to be. Put more people who look like you on your own screen.

I saw a lot of Tiktoks of nonAsians (and Asians) doing kung-fu moves coming out of the theater. I...am not sure about this? I guess martial arts is once more the vehicle by which we get positive representation in Western media, as is tradition. The legacy of Bruce Lee, of Jackie Chan, of Jet Li. Should I celebrate? Martial arts are dope as fuck but...that's not all we are...well. The appropriate tropey thing to say is: "This is just the beginning."

Part 4 will be my rewrite ideas. I will write it on my blog and link it here later.

[pocket-void]

Some Stuff About Marcus Pt.1

Alright, I’m finally gonna talk about Marcus in more depth for a lil bit because honestly the more I think about him the more I want to talk about him. So I’m gonna do just that! Both for fun and to get some stuff out of my creative system. ^///^

So let’s start with the man himself, shall we?

Marcus

Marcus is my personal version of the mysterious Orange side, and he’s more of an OC than a theory and I just really enjoy talking about him sometimes. So I do! I talk more about what he represents in this post (there’s also other miscellaneous scraps of info about him in the orange side tag), this one is gonna focus more on his exact relationship with each of the other sides (I always welcome more specific asks if you ever wanna know anything else! Since I’m very rambly and believe me when I say that I have answers to basically everything >///<). These are longer than I thought so I’m splitting it up...but if you’re still here, then strap in folks! u///u

Roman

Marcus doesn’t dislike Roman, but he’s not a big fan of him either. Theoretically they could have a better relationship but it’s hindered by a perception of Marcus that someone else had set a long time ago. (We’ll get to that)

One of the bigger reasons why Marcus and Roman don’t quite get along is simply due to their completely opposite levels of self respect. Roman is insecure and often unsure about his accomplishments and how others feel about him, while Marcus is too sure about his skills and how others perceive him. There are clear flaws to both.

In Marcus’ case, it’s made him incredibly stubborn and bitter as a result of being seen as a problem and not being able to do anything. It’s very difficult to convince him he’s wrong, and while he’s not dumb enough to think he’s right about everything, he gets more aggressive than necessary in the face of opposition at times. But more than anything Marcus is honest. He’s blunt and isn’t afraid of just stating how he feels to people, and Roman’s reluctance to do so really bugs him at times. In fact, he’s sometimes angry for him.

The fact that simple phrases can shatter Roman’s entire ego drives Marcus up walls, because if he were in his position he’d probably deck someone in the face right then and there. Being insulted? Getting what he fears most spat at him like venom? Marcus would never stand for that. Beyond that he’s also mad for the people who care about Roman. Why can’t he believe them? Can’t he see how much he’s cared about? How worried people are? Does he really? Marcus thinks that distrust and insecurity feels like an insult to them.

The thing about Marcus is that he’s been through being branded bad and evil. He’s still the bad guy in a couple of ways. He’ll play the bad guy if he has to. He’s over it, though not quite over it as he’d like to be... In a way, he’s also envious of Roman. Roman is important. The others do actually love him. And deep down, Marcus also respects the things he does and doesn’t want him to be crippled by his self doubt because what the two have in common is passion. A drive and determination to do the things they want, and to achieve the goals they aim for. It’s just a shame that their relationship is soured by their general perceptions of each other.

Marcus also just isn’t big on theatrics, but that’s because he uh, can’t see. He likes to make fun of Roman just like anybody else in casual conversation and only ever refers to him as “Red”, “Princey”, or on occasion “Ruby”. He jokingly takes Roman’s threats seriously when they quip, and while they never actually get into fights, Roman is aware that Marcus will actually throw down.

At the end of the day, Marcus wants Roman to consider himself his own hero. He doesn’t understand Roman’s need to keep up an image because he’s never had an image to live up to, let alone anyone who'd look to him for inspiration. Whether Roman likes him or not doesn’t really matter to him, he doesn’t care about people who’ve made up their minds about him and are too set in certain ways of thinking.

Which is hypocrisy at its finest, but we’re not there yet.

Janus

Right off the bat, they do not get along. Which you might find kind of odd, considering they’re both under the umbrella of “dark side”. The truth is, they’re tentative colleagues at best. Hilariously Logan probably gets along with Janus better than Marcus does, and there are a couple very fair reasons behind this.

On the one hand, they both agree on doing things for the “self” (Which in their case is c!Thomas). They both agree that the self should be the most important person in one’s life, and will do whatever it takes to protect it. However, the biggest difference between them is the methods they go about doing so. And it’s here that Marcus’ righteous anger often clashes harshly with Janus’ need for self preservation. Marcus doesn’t lie, he doesn’t see the need to. If he wants something, he’ll do it. If he believes something, he’ll say it. He does it because he knows he’s right, and that’s what matters. Obviously this would cause a lot of problems in real life if you actually are that blunt 24/7, and in those cases Janus has to reign him in quite a bit.

Marcus is fundamentally reckless, brash, and prone to getting carried away if not kept in check, which makes him kind of a danger to Thomas’ wellbeing at times. The thing is, both of them are aware of this. Which is actually why Marcus isn’t as spiteful about stepping down as he could be. He knows that he can do more harm than good if he ever steps out of bounds. This won’t stop him from feeling like his input would infinitely accelerate certain debates, and on a personal level he does still feel like he has the right to fight for that recognition, but he doesn’t because he’s not dumb enough to actively cause harm to others for the sake of himself. It’s not what he wants. What he will and often does do however, is do things that end with him getting hurt in the end. Maybe the reason he disagrees with Janus so much is because his own sense of self preservation is surprisingly poor.

A mildly exaggerated analogy I like to think about is that: If under any circumstance the two of them would have to plot revenge, Janus would focus more on personal safety and Marcus would focus more on personal vindication. Marcus has zero qualms about actually throwing hands, no matter the resulting physical consequence (If his scars were any indication) which Janus would 100% be against. Imagine the consequences of a physical confrontation! Absolutely not. Snake man would prefer more subtle and manipulative tactics, and would probably prefer to frame someone without being implicated himself if possible. They usually compromise, but always butt heads one way or another.

In casual conversation, Marcus is more snarky to Janus than anything. They trade sarcastic remarks often and tend to be a lil snippy, but they often agree on similar points? But also insist that they don’t get along, which is pretty funny. Marcus calls Janus “Yellow” or “Snake”, and sometimes a few yellow flower names like “Tansy” or “Marigold”.

Remus

Would it come as a surprise if I said these two actually get along ok? Think about it: They’re both blunt, forthcoming with their ideas (As wild as Remus’ are), and are at times prone to violence. They’re both seen as “bad” and both have experienced being forcefully repressed one way or another. They kind of just vibe on a similar plane of existence if I’m honest with you. More than that however, both are relatively accepting of themselves, Remus more so than Marcus actually. There are some things Orange unfortunately still has to come to terms with.

On a casual level, they probably can do some pretty reckless and dumb things together. Marcus respects anybody with self confidence really, and the way Remus just owns being the garbage man he is definitely gets a pass in his book. It doesn’t mean they never disagree though. In a lot of ways, Marcus is still tied to logic, and Remus’ chaotic nature isn’t always suited to how he works. They conflict the most when it’s time to put the chips down and actually get things done. Remus totally does his best to bug the hell out of him too, much to his chagrin. He makes it pretty clear how he feels about it, but the duke isn’t fazed. Tackle the blind man, he dares you.

Marcus isn’t exactly good with creative input, it’s not his function. In fact, he himself is actually locked in a very specific type of world view from his experiences over the years. It’s not intentional, he just tends to grow irrational when he gets too heated. Sometimes he forgets to take his hand out of the fires that burn him, and it inevitably comes at a detriment to himself. Remus has the capacity to make him incredibly furious under bad circumstances, and if they aren’t careful he might actually act upon dangerous suggestions that Remus just casually suggests. If Remus is the voice behind intrusive thoughts, Marcus is the impulse that actually acts upon them. He won’t, obviously, but spite and anger can push people to do rash things. They both know better than that of course, but it’s a possibility that will never go away.

Marcus calls Remus “Green”, though he also refers to him by odd green things sometimes like “moss” or “seaweed”. I like to imagine the two of them going off and smashing up random things to blow off steam/just for fun. But that’s just me. u///u

---

If you’re still reading then thank you??? This is honestly more self indulgent than anything, but I just have way too much stuff I could talk about and it needs to go somewhere akjbefkaefk.

I shall talk about the rest in Part 2 perhaps. o///o

[consultingmadhatter]

Compilation of Doom Days Lyrics that Relate to Good Omens

I started writing this shortly after the series and the album came out, so please forgive that this is really late to the party, any inconsistencies due to working on this over a long period of time, the fact that I haven’t watched the series in over a year so some of this is written when the show isn’t fresh in my mind, and if anything in the fandom or my personal stances have changed since I started writing this.

*Most of this will be about Crowley and Aziraphale. My personal view on the two of them is that they definitely love each other, but whether they are romantically attracted to each other is entirely dependent on whether an angel and a demon (who have been around humans for 6000 years) are capable of feeling them human sensations of romance and if so whether it would be something they would have to consciously choose to feel or whether it would be automatic and involuntary like it is with humans. I can see it either way, so this analysis will probably be a mixture.

*The lyrics for each will be out of order and will instead be in the sequence that I deem easiest for presenting my analyst

*I worked on the songs out of order so there might be places where I only briefly touch upon something and act as if it is just of another example of something I don’t actually end up talking about until a later track. Apologies for any confusion that may cause.

This ended up being way longer than I thought it would so I’m going to start with the Bad Decisions analysis as a sample and put the rest under the cut. The rest are in album order; I didn’t have much for Quarter Past Midnight, so I thought Bad Decisions would be a better example. (Another Place is the most shippy one if that is what you are looking for).

Bad Decisions:

“You said that maybe this is where it ends Take a bow for the bad decisions that we made Bad decisions that we made And if we're going down in flames Take a bow for the bad decisions that we made Bad decisions that we made”

Armageddon has arrived; the world is ending. Aziraphale and Crowley have always made bad decisions both in their acts of stupidity (looking at you Azi, wandering over to France during a revolution just for some crepes dressed as conspicuously as possible) and their decisions to “fraternize” with the enemy and to question and mildly disobey heaven and hell. Arguably, they weren’t the wrong decisions, but as doomsday approaches they will have to reckon with opposing the cosmic forces at work (”take a bow”).

“So we'll make the same mistakes 'Til the morning breaks So we'll make the same mistakes 'Til the morning breaks”

But they are not going to back down. They are going to continue to make the same “mistake” of working together and trying to stop Armageddon until the very end.

“London's burning”-The M25 catches fire; London is literally burning. “If the world is ending, let's stay up all night”- They are spending every moment they can trying to stop Armageddon and when it looks like they will fail they are still being kept “up all night” by their separate crises. (Yes, I know this line is meant to be more along the lines of “let’s make the most of the time we have left by having a good time” but I’m changing it for the Good Omens context)

“Now we find ourselves lying right here Always find ourselves lying right here Can we make the same mistakes (Ooh) 'Til the morning breaks”

“Do you remember what you said to me? 'Cause we lost track of time Yeah, we lost track of time”

These lyrics remind me of how they always find themselves drawn together. Their decision to stop the ending of the world is built on 6000 years of trust and friendship and history together. (I don’t really have a more specific interpretation but I hope it’s clear what I’m saying and I’m sure a more fleshed out explanation could be made). Also, though they went through some rough patches, when it comes right down to it, they would never want to stop making the “same mistakes” of working together and being friends, and they always come back to each other.

“Love me, leave me”- Throughout their relationship there have been a lot of instances of them meeting up and then going their separate ways for years. Over time their love for each other has grown. When Crowley asks for holy water, Aziraphale cares for him to much to give him a suicide pill; they have an argument and end up not speaking to each other for decades. Then Crowley shows up at the church during WWII to get his angel out of a sticky situation, demonstrates his love by saving the books, and then he’s away again. Later, in the Bentley, Aziraphale can’t stand seeing Crowley risking his life, so he delivers the holy water himself. But Aziraphale is not yet in a place where he can give in to his feelings for Crowley and ends up leaving him again. When it looks like they won’t be able to stop Armageddon, Crowley offers for them to run away to runaway together, but still Aziraphale can’t bring himself to say yes and he leaves him again.

“You always let me down so tenderly”- Each time Aziraphale rejects Crowley, it may hurt both of them, but he’s never saying “I don’t love you;” he’s saying “I can’t let myself love you.” Even when he says he doesn’t even like Crowley, they both know it’s a lie. He’s just in a difficult position being torn between his identity as an angel and his feelings for Crowley. Decades earlier he had left it open ended with the “You go to fast for me” and the suggestion of a picnic or dining at the Ritz.

“So live fast and die young and stay forever numb”- For me this one is less about what is in the actual show but rather some of the head cannons going around. These include the ones about Crowley’s presence in the nightlife culture of the 60′s and 70′s and how that coincides with Aziraphale’s “You go to fast for me, Crowley” line. Also theories that Crowley is depressed and self destructive which is why Aziraphale is worried about Crowley using the holy water on himself. In the show you can see he is suffering when he talks about how he hadn’t meant to fall and when he pleads with God about testing humanity to destruction. It could then be argued that in his 6000 years on earth Crowley spent some time trying to distract himself from this pain by acting in the demon/angel equivalent to “living fast, dying young.”

Quarter Past Midnight:

*This is the one that I have the least for. I almost put it at the end because I didn’t think i could connect it enough to Good Omens to leave it among the other songs. Some of the other songs might also have few direct connections, but I feel the essence of the songs in those cases still match better to the series than Quarter Past Midnight does. So please bear with me here.

“Help me piece it all together, darling Before it falls apart oh”

The world itself is about to fall apart. Crowley and Aziraphale are trying to piece together what they know to find the antichrist and in general they work together to try to stop the end of the world.

“And you said we'd leave this place in dust”-Crowley asks Aziraphale to run away with him.

“And fall from heaven straight through hell”

Crowley has already fallen (or sauntered). Aziraphale, throughout, is worried about falling from heaven’s grace.

“We never know what we have We never knew what we had”

I believe Aziraphale struggled to understand what he truly had with his relationship with Crowley. Crowley was the one who recognized their bond in the beginning, and he was the one who actively pursued establishing a friendship. Even later on, in the church during WWII, Aziraphale truly believed their friendship was over; he hadn’t seen Crowley in nearly a hundred years, yet he still showed up to rescue him.

“Why are we always chasing after something Like we trying to throw our lives away”

Some general angsting about the risk of them getting punished for “fraternizing” and Aziraphale being concerned that hell would actually destroy Crowley. “Chasing after something,” perhaps chasing after their relationship.

“We keep on running Running through a red light Like we're trying to burn the night away”

Crowley’s driving. The Bentley being on fire.

The Waves:

“Staring down the barrel of a hundred tons”- They are up against very formidable opponents: all of heaven and hell, the four horsemen, and finally Satan himself.

“It might be getting older, but the night's still young”- As Armageddon approaches they are rapidly running out of time, but dooms day is still young and the whole crew pull off a lot in a very little time.

“We never, never give up on the lost boy life”- Crowley and Aziraphale never grow out of the theoretical naivety of working and being friends with someone from the other side

“So here we are, escaping from the world outside”- Crowley suggests literally escaping and running away together. They have also tended to avoid and escape the political dynamics of heaven and hell and their opposition to each other. In the end they even escape their punishments.

“Oh, what would your mother say if she could see what we're doing now? Oh, what would your mother say if she could hear what we talk about?”

In a way God is their mother wondering what she would say about Crowley and Aziraphale’s plans and actions aligns with the question of whether they were going against God’s will or whether their actions were actually part of her bigger plans.

“The waves are crashing down on you and me again, again, again The waves are crashing down on you and me I'll see you on the other side Get carried, get carried away, oh-oh-oh-oh Caught up in, caught up in the wave”

Both heaven and hell and all the events of Armageddon are crashing down on them. The get caught up in this struggle between the sides and it threatens to sweep them away. There are moments like when Crowley and Aziraphale promise to meet up in Tadfield after Crowley finds out that Aziraphale is still alive and when they are captured for their punishments that they just have to hope that they will see each other on the other side.

“So tie a ribbon 'round my arm and throw me in”

During the entire mess they are each other’s life line. Even when they get separated, they are able to find each other again and make it through the chaos.

“We sink or swim”

They are in it together and either they will succeed, stopping the apocalypse and surviving the wrath of heaven and hell, or they will fail and it is all over for them.

“Is it an apocalypse or nihilism on your lips?”

I’ve been trying to come up with something really profound and clever to say about this but I haven’t been able to come up with something. Obviously the apocalypse is in there. Crowley and eventually Aziraphale do certainly reject the institutions of heaven and hell and point out that many of the morals heaven imposes are arbitrary, but they definitely don’t go as far as saying that all morals are arbitrary/baseless or that life is meaningless or that knowledge is impossible. If I had to place this line to a specific moment in the series, I would probably associate with the scene in the first episode where Crowley is convincing Aziraphale that they should try to stop Armageddon since there is some element of accepting the apocalypse or deciding that the supposed agenda of the higher power is meaningless.

“Suddenly we're fallin' through the twilight zone”- A lot of weird stuff happens when Adam comes into his powers

“Watch the party playing out in slow motion” - they stop time during that final confrontation with Satan to give Adam a pep-talk

Divide:

“Roll the window down, let the air blow 'round you A sadness in the breeze as the night divides us”

They had several scenes in the Bentley together, but that second line brings it back to that night in 1967, saturated in sad tones, as Aziraphale leaves him again.

“In these darker days, I push the limit to the love you offer There's a riot in my head, demanding we do this forever”

Darker days can be both the the final days as Armageddon approaches and that period when their relationship was strained and Aziraphale was pushing Crowley out of his life. In both cases Aziraphale was pushing the limits of Crowley’s love. During Armageddon he rejected Crowley’s multiple offers to run away together and during that stretch 1862-1967 his responses ranged from what was essentially a “wait for me” to that heated declaration of not needing him. With the next line, Aziraphale is torn between Crowley and heaven, and he wishes that he didn’t have to chose, that they could continue toeing the line with their friendship without getting in trouble. However, he knows that Crowley wants more, and eventually Aziraphale will have to give something up.

“So roll the window down, won't let you go like this Go like this, go like this Roll the window down, won't let you go like this Go like this, go like this”

Crowley won’t give up on Aziraphale. Even after declaring he will run off with out him, he still comes back to find Aziraphale, even running into a burning bookshop for him.

“Why would we divide when we could come together? Just bodies that collide, lost and found each other So don't, don't leave me alone Don't leave me alone, don't leave me alone Why would we divide when we could come together?”

In the beginning, their arrangement was defined as “Why fight each other when we could work together and still reach the same effect.” Over time their relationship evolved. Aziraphale still believes there is an inherent divide between them, saying they are on opposite sides. However, Crowley argues they are really on their own side and that they should not just work together, but runoff together. “Just bodies that collide,” again, they are like celestial bodies that have crossed paths and now they are pulled together. “Lost and found each other,” when Aziraphale gets discorporated in the book shop, Crowley truly believes he has lost his best friend, and even Aziraphale has a moment of panic that he won’t be able to return to earth. They are reunited again at the bar and in-person at the airbase. Crowley never wants to lose Aziraphale. When it looks like they won’t be able to save the world, Crowley begs Aziraphale to head to the stars with him. When he thought he lost Aziraphale, he was devastated and was having a break down. Earlier, he ran into a church to save Aziraphale from some Nazis. Crowley is desperate for Aziraphale not to leave him.

“Looking back around, glamorize the chaos Don't let summer nights destroy everything before us”

Everything is in complete chaos during those days leading up to Armageddon. Each night that passed was leading closer to the end. Everything would have been destroyed on that fateful summer day. Perhaps when it was all over, Crowley and Aziraphale reminisced about what happened because, even though it was a disaster, it led to them becoming free.

Million Pieces:

“No one is loving, it's not a drill Don't look outside, the world is ending (Faster, faster, faster, faster, fast)”

It is not a drill, Armageddon is starting. The time they have to stop it is running out. It goes from 11 years to less than a week to mere hours. And well heaven and hell never liked each other, the period where they would tolerate/look other way as two of their agents “love thy enemy” is over. It is time to cut ties with the other side.

“The king's a clown”- the leadership in Heaven and Hell are definitely clowns

“We're too far gone Nothing I say will mean anything”

That point where both Crowley and Aziraphale believe it is too late to stop it. Aziraphale realizes nothing that he can say to his side will make them change their mind. Throughout the series Aziraphale struggles with going against heaven’s wishes, but Crowley points out that if world does end that they will be stuck in their respective awful eternities as well as that they are on “our side” so in a way it doesn’t matter if they say (or do) things that go against their sides’ orders.

“Just drink, fuck, dance right through disaster” -While they don’t really “drink, fuck, dance” through disaster, Crowley does offer for them to run away together while everything else turns into a “burning puddle of goo,” which has a similar feeling of escapism.

“The echoes of that news ring loud (The echoes, the echoes) No sound can ever drown it out (The echoes)”

For Aziraphale that news was probably when God’s representative told him that they were going to go ahead with war instead of avoiding it. You can see on his face that that is the point that he lost all hope in his side doing the right thing and finally decides to abandon them completely. For Crowley it would be when the book shop burns down and he thinks he lost Aziraphale for good.

“Don't speak, 'cause it's like a bitter pill”

This goes along with the two moments I was talking about above, but it also fits with every time that Aziraphale rejected Crowley in some way. Probably also when Crowley asked for the holy water and Aziraphale thought that Crowley was thinking about killing himself.

“It breaks my heart It breaks my heart into a million pieces, oh It breaks my heart into a million pieces If it's gonna break me, won't you let me go? Leave it 'til the morning, I don't wanna know Breaks my heart Breaks my heart into a million pieces”

Again, the moments I was talking about directly above. In general, when the characters are at their bleakest, no-hope, desperate moments.  

Doom Days:

“When I watch the world burn All I think about is you When I watch the world burn All I think about is you”

As the world is ending, all Crowley and Aziraphale are thinking about is each other. After finding out that Aziraphale is still alive, Crowley is determined enough to hold his Bentley together as he drives through the inferno of the M-25.

“Cruising through the doom days”

This, in general, conjures images of anytime Crowley is driving way too fast as he tries to find a way to stop the end of the world, but the scene on the M-25 is particularly fitting.

“God knows what is real and what is fake”

Adam has been altering reality, doing and creating things that defy the logic of the real world. When it is all over and he puts everything back to the way it was, people still remember what happened and are left in a confusion of whether any of it was real.

“Last couple years have been a mad trip”

During the eleven year lead up to Armageddon, everything is a little crazy. Heaven and hell are now focused on making sure it all goes to plan and Crowley and Aziraphale are trying their hardest to stop it. After years of trying to influence Warlock, they learn that they have the wrong boy and all that effort was for nothing. From that point on everything descends into even greater chaos.

“We fucked this house up like the planet We were running riot Crazy that some people still deny it”

Climate change and humanity’s effects on the earth are touched upon in the series. It is mentioned more in the books as Adam takes action to address issues such as deforestation and the dying whales, but it shows up in the TV show too. The aliens even try to give earth a ticket for it.

“Let's pick the truth that we believe in Like a bad religion Tell me all your original sins So many questionable choices We love the sound that our voice makes Man, this echo chamber's getting loud”

This of course brings in the religious elements. Focusing on that context, these lines can relate to the questionable and morally ambiguous areas of the religious structure depicted in the show. Heaven has chosen to believe in “the truth” that violence and killing people are justified if it is part of the path to righteousness. Crowley questions Aziraphale about such choices during the flood scene, horrified that even the children would die. Many of the head angels and demons are so certain of themselves and the correctness of their actions that they seem smug about it. They appear to derive pleasure from hearing themselves speak, especially when it is to chastise others. Heaven and Hell echo each other on the matter of the war, and, no matter who Aziraphale or Crowley speak to, they say the same thing: the war is too be fought, not avoided.

From a Crowley and Aziraphale perspective, they choose for themselves what is right and what is wrong. They (mostly Crowley) question whether the “sins” others have committed are truly wrong and bad enough to warrant the punishments they received. This includes the original sin with the apple and Crowley himself falling just because he asked some questions and hung out with the wrong people. Each inhabits a grey area in their roles as a demon and an angel due to their questionable choices to bend the rules and will of their prospective sides.

In a more general interpretation, these lyrics describe the chaotic state humanity has reached, especially in the years leading up to the apocalypse. This divisive type of mindset can be used by the four horsemen to help spread the plights they represent.

“We'll be the proud remainers Here 'til the morning breaks us”

Crowley, Aziraphale, Anathema, Newton, and the Them (as well as Madame Tracy and Sergeant Shadwell to some extent) are the “proud remainers,” the ones who fight the apocalypse.

“We're gonna rabbit hole down, third act love now”

It is not until the third act, after the climax and resolution of Armageddon, that Crowley and Aziraphale can finally be together since they are finally on their own side. Their love story resolves itself on the bench as they wait for the bus and at the Ritz.

“We'll stay offline so no one gets hurt Hiding from the real world Just don't read the comments ever, ever”

“Think I'm addicted to my phone My scrolling horror show I'm live-streaming the final days of Rome One tab along, it's pornographic Everybody's at it No surprise we're so easily bored”

Technology isn’t mentioned that much in the show, and even less in the original book since it was released almost 30 years earlier. However, I do like all the fan theories and head canons about heaven and hell’s influence in the development of technology, especially Crowley’s role. Perhaps he had a hand in establishing humanity’s current cyber addiction. Maybe he orchestrated the entire thing, maybe he just helped out with a few aspects (developing certain apps, creating specific smart phone/social media features, etc), maybe he had nothing to do with it and just took credit for it, maybe he doesn’t really care about it at all. Either way, technology and social media are a major component of the current state of humanity.

Nocturnal Creatures:

“You put your arms around me Partners in crime in the dead of night”

Partners in crime definitely describes Crowley and Aziraphale, and, by the time the series ends, a gesture of intimacy such as putting their arms around each other doesn’t seem out of the question.

“We've only got ourselves to blame Again and again and again Again and again and again”

Crowley and Aziraphale are the ones to get themselves in trouble whether it is accidentally (Aziraphale in 1941, losing the antichrist) or a conscious choice (working together, trying to advert the war). They are both disobedient and incompetent.

“Let every night play out the same 'Cause I wouldn't, I wouldn't change a thing”

Another set of lyrics that describes how content they are when they are with each other and that they are happy just being together. Besides finally reaching a place where they don’t have to hide anymore, they wouldn’t change a thing.

“We're nocturnal creatures, we own the night And we don't need a reason if we want to lose our minds We're nocturnal creatures, drawn to the flame And the morning doesn't reach us Well, not until we want it to, want it to”

In the end, when Aziraphale and Crowley are a united force, they are unstoppable. This part of the song embodies the new confidence they have, especially after dealing with heaven and hell’s attempts at punishing them. They are reveling in their new found freedom which leads to the clip at the end of the song:

“We received the freedom but we were completely unaware what to do with this freedom It felt like the hungry people received the foods and we just ate everything” 

Unlike in this clip, they know what to do with their freedom. They are going to dine at the Ritz and start their new life together. They have been starved of being allowed to show each other their full level of affection for 6000 year, so if they get carried away and  “eat  everything” (*wink, wink*), who can blame them.

“No moon, no stars above us The orange sky says the night's alive This time with you's elastic We stretch these hours as far as we can make them go”

Holding on to their time together, whether it’s desperately clinging to the moments they share in secrecy during the first 6000 years, or enjoying those first days together when they don’t have to hide and that promise a beginning to hopeful future.

“It's our weekend religion A different chord but the same refrain”

Crowley has always had his own definitions of right and wrong. He asked questions and disapproved of punishing people indiscriminately, especially the children. Even in his role as a demon, he spreads evil differently, favoring free will and creating circumstances where the humans to do the bad things of their volition. Because of his relationship with Crowley, Aziraphale started questioning Heaven too. 

4AM:

“Tuesday'll be doom day, this got out of hand”

Technically doomsday occurs on Saturday in Good Omens, but this lyric has the same level of immediacy for the end of the world approaching. Things did get out of hand for Crowley and Aziraphale. They thought they might be able to advert the apocalypse if they raised the child to be normal, but, when the hell hound failed to show up, they realized they were in trouble, and things continued to spin out of control from there.

“Here, here, my family (Might be a walking disaster) You are my familiar, you are my familiar (Not much, but all I would ask for) Here, here, my friends and me (Might be a walking disaster) You are my familiar (Not much, but all I would ask for)”

Crowley and Aziraphale are friends, family, each other’s familiar, two halves of the same soul, and more. Being with each other is all they would ask for in the world. That’s why “or I’ll never speak to you again” is the greatest threat for them both. They are also both walking disasters (They spent eleven years trying to stop Armageddon and in the end they only played a minor part in what actually went down).

“Oh, there is nowhere I would rather be Never felt more comfortable, could never want for more when I'm here No, there is nowhere I would rather be, oh-oh Never felt more comfortable, could never want for more when you're near”

Again, they are happiest when they are with each other. They got their ideal ending when heaven and hell left them alone and allowed them to spend the rest of their lives together without having to hide it.

“I don't care if we're talking 'bout the same things I don't care if we're stuck in the familiar I don't care if we're going 'round in circles Again, again, again”

I feel like this describes how comfortable they are with each other that they would be content just talking about whatever and doing the same old things as long as they are with each other.

Another Place:

  *I started this one in another post, but I’m going to do the full explanation here. I’m probably just going to steal some bits directly from that post. (Also for this one to fit I’m using the full romantic interpretation of their relationship).

This song is the epitome of all those feelings Aziraphale has in his internal struggle with and conflicting feelings over loving Crowley and knowing his place as an angel. It also captures the longing they both feel.

“I am bound to you with a tie that we cannot break With a night that we can't replace I'm lost but found with you, in a bed that we'll never make It's a feeling we always chase”

Crowley and Aziraphale have had a connection for 6000 years. They are bound to each other and even if they tried to they could never truly escape that. Both Crowley and Aziraphale are lost: Crowley never meant to fall, all he did was ask questions and now Aziraphale is starting to question heaven too. When they are together, they don’t feel so lost. They have found themselves in each other, yet Crowley is the one who encouraged Aziraphale to become lost in the first place. And they can never truly be together because heaven and hell would never approve. Instead they have small moments of intimacy, chasing those feelings.

“Oh, in another place In another time, what could we have been?”

If they weren’t an angel and a demon, if they weren’t risking everything if they got caught, what could they have been.

“You go too fast for me, Crowley.” Maybe one day they could have a picnic or dine at the Ritz. Maybe one day they could be together if Aziraphale can come to terms with defying heaven and having his existence no longer being strictly defined by his role as an angel. But this is not that time.

“So lie to me tonight and pretend 'til the morning light And imagine that you are mine 'Cause when the sun will rise with the truth coming out your eyes We'll be good in another life”

When the apocalypse is averted and they no longer have a side, that’s when they can indulge those feelings. They are not in the clear yet; the wrath of heaven and hell will still be coming down upon them, but they don’t have to worry about that until the morning. Just for that one night they can pretend that everything is alright and spend the night at Crowley’s place and be together. If they survive tomorrow, they will finally be truly free. That “other life” will finally have arrived. They can dine at the Ritz and will no longer have to hide their love for each other.

“I could write a book about the things that you said to me on the pillow And the way you think, and how you make me feel You can fill my mind and move my body with the fiction, fantasies Just call this what it is, we don't pretend it's real”

The singing and the beat in this part of the song... I can’t quite describe it but it feels so intimate. It sounds like someone who is absolutely intoxicated by their feelings for the other person and being driven crazy by their need to be with them. Aziraphale and Crowley have come to know each other so well, and their connection to each other is stronger than that of any humans; they are bound to each other’s very existence. Therefore, I believe there must have been moments where they were completely overwhelmed by their love for the other, where it feels like all their thoughts and actions are being overtaken by their longing and desire to be with them. The orbit each other and gravitationally pulled together.

“Feels like something's special but it never felt like love Wonder what we could be living in another life Catch us in the mirror and it looks a lot like love Then you stop me talking as you kiss me from above”

Because Aziraphale has so much trouble coming to terms with the fact that he loves Crowley, I doubt he let himself consider for even one second that those feelings might go beyond on just loving Crowley in a fraternal way, but in a romantic way. Crowley too might have stopped short of thinking about showing his affection for Aziraphale in the traditional human ways of kissing and so on. But to many of the viewers, and maybe even the characters in the show, it does look like a romance, especially in that last scene at the Ritz when they are no longer holding back. Cue all the fanart and drabbles/fanfics of them kissing, dating, etc.

Those Nights:

“Those nights when your friends are gone When you're holding on for someone to leave with Those nights when you crave someone To be there at dawn, to wake with, 'cause aren't we all just Looking for a little bit of hope these days? Looking for somebody you can wake up with? Looking for a little bit of hope these days? We are, we are”

As the end of the world approaches, Crowley and Aziraphale both feel lost. They each have permanently cut ties to their respective side, so now all they have is each other. After the book shop burns, there is a stretch where they both believe they don’t even have each other. But they have always had each other. They found that person who would be there with them early on. It just took them awhile to realize/admit it.

When things are at their darkest, each is looking for some hope. Aziraphale goes to his higher ups, hoping they would be willing to advert the war, and, when that doesn’t work, he tries to contact God Herself; however, he receives the same answer there. Crowley too makes a plea to God to not test humanity to its destruction, but he knows that it is pointless. Crowley does, however, hope that Aziraphale will leave the planet with him, and he continues to hold out for that even after Azirphale rejects his offer.

“You'll never get to heaven on a night like this”

“You try to get to heaven on a night like this But you, you never get to heaven on a night like this”

“We'll never get to heaven”

Neither one will ever be forgiven by heaven or hell. They can never go back to what they were. However, by the end, both seem to have already happily accepted that.

“I can feel your eyes in the back of my head Burning, burning, burning Floating through the room as the hairs on my arms are Rising, rising, rising I'm chemically drawn closer to you Eyes wide, eyes wide open Will you be my future or just an escape? Love me, love me, love me”

“Pulling at my t-shirt, your hands everywhere Rising, rising, rising As you trip and fall, dragging me up the stairs What's your, what's your name, now?”

I’ll just leave these lyrics here for you all to picture since this crosses more into the world of fan fiction again.

Joy:

*This is the other one that I don’t have much for. The song describes a kind of specific moment that doesn’t really fit with the series, but the general idea of that one person who can always bring you joy does describe Crowley and Aziraphale. So again, bear with me. (Maybe this one is more of an epilogue of their life after the series ends).

“I'm your walking disaster, keep on dragging me From self-pity, poor me”

They are both walking disasters, but they are each other’s walking disaster. I’m not sure how much self-pity there is but maybe they help the other one pull themself together (or at least pull themselves from individual walking disasters into a collective walking disaster).

“Thought I'd never be waking on the kitchen floor But here I lie, not the first time Now my morning has broken, and it brings the fear My mind's falling, falling” “Take a walk through the wreckage, clearing out my head”

I feel like this would describe the morning after the world was saved. They survived the worst of it but they still are going to have to face the consequences of opposing heaven and hell.

“Then I feel my pulse quickening But regrets can't change anything”

“Then I feel my pulse quickening But I wouldn't change a thing”

Abandoning Heaven was a hard decision for Aziraphale and it probably took a little time to fully come to terms with (for example he was still thinking about what his side would think about him staying at Crowley’s place after everything was over). Of course he’s glad he made that choice, but maybe he regrets not fully joining Crowley sooner or those times in the past that he chose heaven over Crowley. But then again, everything turned out for the best and they still have their whole future together so he wouldn’t change anything even if he could.

“Oh Joy, when you call me I was giving up, oh, I was giving in Joy, set my mind free I was giving up, oh, I was giving in” “How'd you always know when I'm down?”

I feel like this is their reunion when Crowley realizes Aziraphale isn’t gone. But this could just also be their general dynamic for the rest of their lives together where they are each other’s rock and always know when the other is feeling down and how to cheer to cheer them up.

“I hear your eyes roll right down the phone” - You just know this happens often

“As the night dissolves into this final frame You're a sweet relief, you saved me from my brain”

As the series ends on that final moment of them dining at the Ritz, finally together and happy. They saved each other from a lot of inner turmoil and now they will always have each other.

*If you read all this or even just skimmed it, thank you so much! It means a lot. I did not expect this to take over a year to complete, yet here I am. I know neither the show nor the album is topical any more so some of that initial buzz/excitement/interest has died away. So it means even more to me if you still took the time to read this now!

[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

Somebody Sweet to Talk To ❁︎ 𝐓𝐖𝐎

Pairing: Harry Osborn x Plus Size Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

A/N: the ending of the chapter might be abrupt/clunky but I promise it’s intentional and will completely make sense very soon.

Gif credit: @lovingpostit

Summary & Warnings || Series Masterlist

𝐈'𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚 𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐞, 𝐈 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝

❁︎ ・・・・・❁︎ ・・・・・ ❁︎ ・・・・・❁︎

The morning was too relaxed to be real. It was like Tony and Bruce knew you had a supposed date— which they probably did because Peter must’ve been still annoyed— and they were waiting for you to either say something or show a sign of nervousness.

You weren’t sure if you should be nervous when the date wasn’t real. The prospect of being around people threatened to make you feel uncomfortable, but you were perfectly capable of handling crowds for small amounts of time. Besides, how long could you and Harry take to eat?

At 1:30 you were ready, comfortable with how your makeup looked and happy with the way your outfit didn’t accentuate the parts of your body you liked the less.

At 1:45 Tony paced in front of your bedroom door, thinking you wouldn’t hear him. He was probably worried due to it being your supposed first date and all— you couldn’t blame him, the closest you had been to have a proper relationship had gone so bad the guy had turned into a supervillain and was now dead.

At 1:55 F.R.I.D.A.Y let you know Harry was at the door asking for you. You picked your purse up from the bed and left your bedroom, smiling at Tony without showing your teeth. Tony smiled back, opened his mouth to say something he seemed to regret even thinking, and wished for you to have fun with a kiss on your forehead.

Peter caught up with you as you passed the lab, where he had been talking to Bruce, and walked with you toward the door. Harry was waiting with his hands in his pockets, smiling in the same way you had done to Tony when he saw you.

“Take care of her.”

You squinted, frowning at the same time. Did your crush think you didn’t know how to take care of yourself? It wasn’t the first time Peter insinuated you needed to be watched or taken care of as if you were a child.

Harry nodded sharply before focusing solely on you. “Ready?”

You nodded too, prompting him to open the entrance door for you. The thought of insisting for him to walk out first was tempting, but you needed to look at least mildly comfortable around him so you sucked it up and strut past both men.

Harry didn’t take more than five seconds to get out of the building, letting the door open for Peter to close. You almost laughed at the gesture but were able to keep it to yourself.

Thoughtfully so, he chose a table on the terrace of the restaurant. The table was close to the handrail, giving you a perfect view of the water fountain surrounded by flowers and bushes. The sight was pretty, and under the umbrella covering you from that time around the sun, you saw him fix his attention on it.

The order was placed in mere minutes, the drinks served immediately. He took a sip first, now watching you. You looked deep in thought, eyes vacant and the muscles in your forehead twitching.

Taking yourself out of your self-absorption, you took a sip of your drink too while blinking rapidly. The reminder of your father not having called in two weeks you bestowed upon your own self needed to be cut short— it wasn’t really unusual for him to not keep contact, but you had expected him to try harder since you started living with The Avengers.

“Gwen said Peter was angry last night.” It was a shitty thing to break the silence with, he realized once the words left his mouth.

“Yeah. I thought you wouldn’t tell him anything until today, to be honest.”

“It’s always better to tell him things when he’s with Gwen because that’s what I always do, that way she calms him down. It would be suspicious if I stop doing it, don’t you think?”

“Can’t argue with that.” You hoped you were masking your surprise by how assertively thoughtful he was.

The meal was silent, not dreadfully but silent nonetheless. He tried to come up with something to say and yet nothing was worthy. That had to change quickly, you would see each other daily now and needed to be comfortable around the other— at least enough to pass as a couple.

“Tell me something about yourself.”

You considered the request. “Oranges are my favorite fruit.”

“Why? It’s hard to get them to taste the same.”

“They’re endearingly vexing.”

He chuckled, taking his wallet out to pay the bill. You did the same, but he shook his head and dropped the money onto the table. “I asked you out, that means I pay.” You stared at him, trying to remind him you weren’t really going out. He seemed to get the hint because he sighed heavily and added: “next time you’ll pay, happy?”

Humming, you made a motion with your hand for him to lead the way.

As you followed him, he spoke, knowing you’d hear him just fine. “It’s too early to get you home.”

“I’m not fond of big crowds and it’s a Saturday, they’ll understand.”

Harry repeated the gesture of opening a door for you many times that afternoon. You supposed he was trying to get used to acting chivalrous for the sake of the fake relationship because you had never seen him do that with his conquests.

Buckling yourself in, you placed your purse on your lap while he introduced the key in the clutch and turned the engine on— he didn’t pull from the parking lot, though. He turned to look at you, wordlessly, and then sighed.

“Why didn’t you tell me that?”

“Because we were only getting lunch.”

Humming, he turned his attention past the steering wheel to make sure everything was alright with the car and actually pulled toward the road.

You looked out of the window while he drove. The silence didn’t bother you as much as the fact you had to get used to him or tell him this was a bad idea. Peter’s reaction to a simple date made you harbor some hope, and Harry was his best friend so he could be right by thinking something else was going on...

Gwen’s car was parked in the same parking spot as always. The blonde was probably over to do the homework she and Peter skipped the day before. Harry didn’t simply drop you off, he walked you to the door and brushed your fingers with his to gain your attention.

Blinking rapidly, you turned your head back to look at him, keys in hand. He nodded upward so you’d open the door, fingers now intertwining with yours. Both tensed when he did it so you noisily fiddled with the lock to gain some time. He gave your hand a squeeze as reassurance that it was okay and you hesitated for a few seconds before pushing the door open.

He faked a chuckle once you were inside. “How come you walked so slowly last night and now you’re dragging me around the building?”

“I didn’t walk slowly, your strides are wider than mine.” You tugged on his hand as you passed Gwen’s and Peter’s field of vision.

The blonde winked at them with a smile, happy that the date had gone well. The same couldn’t be said about Peter who was staring at your hands hoping the intensity of his gaze would be enough to make them part.

Overwhelmed, you guided him to the backyard where you could breathe enough air. Both sat on the patio steps, looking at Buttercup, the family dog as Bucky called her, who happily nibbled on a bone on the grass just past the concrete. You were close, he had to throw an arm around your neck so both could be comfortable— it was a good position for what you were doing in public so you didn’t say anything about it but for a moment wondered how weird it looked from behind.

It was a bad day for getting insecure. Bucky was an expert at spotting when you were in a bad mood or feeling less because of your weight, you didn’t want to worry him.

The dog caught a glimpse of you and jumped to a standing position to walk toward you. Harry watched every move with his entire attention; the way the dog nuzzled against your knee, how your hand instinctively flew to the dog’s head to pet it slowly. Harry also felt the tension leaving the shoulder against his as the dog kept being spoiled.

“What do you usually do on Sunday?” he asked when the dog went back to her bone.

“Finishing pending things related to work, find something to read or watch, wait for the day to end.”

“You work on Sunday?”

“I’m not able to finish throughout the week sometimes.”

The ring of his cellphone made him jump, interrupting what he was about to say and prompting you to stand up so he could withdraw it comfortably. He did so, paling a little bit when reading the caller ID. He let it ring, scared of his father being loud enough for you to hear.

“I gotta go.”

“I’ll walk you out.”

Peter and Gwen were still doing homework when Harry told them goodbye followed by you who held the door open for him once in front of the main entrance. Loudly enough for the couple to hear, he told you he had an amazing time and promised to text you later.

You closed the door and wished for a millisecond that he didn’t have had to go. Shaking your head, knowing you were acting and thinking like a fool when you didn’t know the guy, you turned around and to not seem too suspicious entered the kitchen. The couple’s eyes were on you, probably waiting for a comment about the date, your first date.

Filling a glass with water, you hummed the first love song that crossed your mind. People did that in movies while in love and you had to act like you were falling in love— maybe you were going a bit too far by humming Can’t Help Falling in Love, and maybe now that you were halfway through your glass you could’ve stopped but the song was catchy.

A giggle behind you let you know you had done something right. “I’ve never heard you in such a good mood,” Gwen said from the table, no malice in her tone whatsoever.

You looked down in feigned bashfulness, placing the glass on the counter. “I’ve never heard ME in such a good mood.”

That was convincing to them, and it would probably convince most people around you too. What worried you was lying to Tony or Bucky.

Preferring to get into your pajamas to watch something on Netflix instead of worrying over your fake relationship or watching your crush playing with his girlfriend’s hair, you left the main floor in quite a hurry.

Not pleased with anything in the catalog, you put your headphones on, laying on your back as you stared up at the ceiling and playing your most mixed playlist for a change— a change of nothing because you would skip any song that wasn’t by your favorite artist.

A notification cut through the music. You lifted the cellphone from your belly, groaning when you saw the interruption was due to a text message from Harry.

When should we go out again?

Probably on a free day.

Friday night? Or sooner?

I don’t know. I’ve never done this, remember?

I hang out with Pete almost every day at your house, why don’t you join a day or two and then we go out on Friday?

Because I’m usually working when you hang out here, I do homework at school.

At what time do you finish?

When I’m done. Sometimes there’s nothing to do, but it’s not likely this week.

And start?

As soon as I get home from school.

I’ll see you at school and then we’ll see, but on Friday it would be natural to go out.

I could ask Tony if I can finish earlier if you want.

Perfect.

Unsure if that meant the conversation was over, you still locked the phone and tried to focus again on the music still playing through your headphones.

Dating sounded hard before, but fake dating took the cake. You supposed the fact that Harry was someone you were merely acquainted with could be making it harder than it should have— or not, maybe you weren’t suited for romance in general.

Sunday went by in the blink of an eye. There wasn’t much to do that day, and when dinner time arrived you were desperate for the week to end already. It was something that happened often because you dreaded having to attend school when you were more than well prepared already.

❁︎ ・・・・・❁︎ ・・・・・ ❁︎ ・・・・・❁︎

“Hey.”

You lifted your head at the sound of Harry’s hushed voice. The people around you did the same, giving you both all the attention in the entire library by craning their necks, putting their pens down, and ceasing the flipping.

“Hey. You done for the day?”

“I am.” Watching him go around the table, you shifted in your seat to look at him as he sat down beside you. He pointed at your notebook, “how long?”

Technically, not much. You were only losing time by doing homework slowly to wait for Peter to be done. “An hour, maybe one and a half.”

He squinted, then pulled the notebook closer to read what you had been doing. He flipped through a few pages as people still stared at the two of you, huffing. Harry leaned closer to you so only you’d hear him whisper, “do you always finish homework when Peter finishes his classes?”

Fighting the shivers his whispers had sparked down your spine as hard as you could, you swallowed before whispering back. “It’s a coincidence.”

He hummed, moving his arm to open his backpack and take a few supplies out. You went back to your homework when he did that, interpreting it as his way of finishing the conversation.

Harry being there meant not being able to write as slowly as you had been doing before. It also meant people staring at every one of your movements to know what was he doing there.

Sadly, you were done in less than thirty minutes. When you closed the notebook he smirked, huffing it so you would know he had caught you. It unnerved you a little bit, having misjudged him so badly— you had always thought him to be a little dumb and extremely distracted, yet he hadn’t shown to be anything but assertive, observant, and intuitive.

To make things worse, when you got to the compound Tony told you the lab would be renovated so you had the entire week off unless a medical emergency occurred. You weren’t a workaholic by any means— or so you wanted to believe— but you liked your job, and it was the only thing that really distracted you from missing your parents and not feeling enough.

You sat in the living room with Peter, Gwen, and Harry; each ‘’couple’’ taking a couch. The three had homework to do so you kept yourself busy reading the latest updates on medical research. You could’ve been comfortable in your bedroom, but leaving your supposed... boyfriend... in the living room with his friends instead of spending time with him would look bad.

Letting your sight rest by looking around the room, your eyes landed on Harry. His hunched over form as he wrote made him look way smaller than he was. His concentration face entranced you, his left eye would twitch when he found an answer to whatever it was he was solving and his lips puckered out when he was deep in thought.

Catching the lift of his head, you quickly deviated your gaze toward the other people accompanying you. What the couple across the living room was doing didn’t really register in your brain, feeling eyes on you.

A backpack being zippered prompted Gwen to look at Harry. “Are you done already?!”

“Yeah, I started homework at school.”

At that, you turned to look at him again. You had thought he was just losing time back in the library. Shutting your laptop down, you stood up with it in your grasp, unsure if you should invite Harry to your room or something.

“Wanna watch a movie while they finish?” You asked, more smoothly than you thought you were capable of speaking.

He nodded, making a hand movement for you to lead the way.

You did so nervously, hearing him trail behind you as you walked through the hallway toward the stairs. The elevator would free you from the stress of him looking at your body for more time than socially needed, but it would also entail running into someone and you weren’t in the mood for anyone’s teasing.

Both of you trotted up in silence, Harry wondered why he felt torn between running away from there and follow your every step like a lost puppy. Maybe it was that he didn’t know you well, he knew the things that Peter would say but Peter was a little exaggerated sometimes.

He ran his eyes around your bedroom, analyzing it. Light-colored walls, two doors and a pair of the French kind neatly closed, a very comfortable looking couch... it was a normal room that you seemed to treasure as a sanctuary. There were few paintings hung on the walls, a television, and against one of the said walls a bookshelf that covered every centimeter of it filled to the brim with books and movies.

You placed the laptop on the bureau. “Make yourself comfortable.”

He sat down on the edge of the bed, still looking around. It didn’t look like his room at all, nor like Peter’s, and it made him feel like he was entering a bedroom for the first time.

“What are you going to do the entire week?”

You shrugged, moving a pillow around the couch to sit down comfortably. “I don’t have a lot of hobbies... and getting into a new one would be pointless.”

“Are you going to tell me now why you waste your time around school until Pete’s classes are over?” Both his eyebrows were lifted as he shifted to rest his elbows on his knees, watching you intently.

“I—“ should you tell him the truth? What if he said something to Peter? A middle ground would be good... “I want to make sure he’s alright. Seeing him disappear in The Snap was hard.”

He hummed, “tell me more about you? Something that doesn’t have to do with Peter?”

You stuttered for a moment. Harry was making it sound like your life revolved around Peter— some things did because he was your closest friend, but not every single one of them.

The afternoon went by telling each other about themselves. You learned, between many more things, that he liked almost every food, had decided to become an environmental attorney because he admired his mom and wanted to continue with what he called her legacy, his favorite color was blue, wasn’t a morning person, preferred winter over summer— you had that in common,— was a fan of the Yankees, didn’t like American football, enjoyed mixing salty and sweet foods, and had always wanted to learn how to play chess.

He learned interesting facts about you too, you were definitely more peculiar than Peter had ever let anyone know. For example, you never went to the bathroom between 2:59 and 3:59 AM, your favorite color was black because it didn’t give you migraines, driving made you nervous, if you could be an animal you would be a tabby cat, you felt bad for being scared of snakes and considered them interesting animals you wished to treasure due to how misunderstood they were, liked sports but had never been good at any of them, and there wasn’t anything that relaxed you more than the sight and sound of the rain.

The door opened, Peter blinking rapidly at the sight of both of his best friends sat on the floor, your knees touching as you explained to Harry the names of each chess piece. Both snapped your heads toward the entrance of the room, waiting for whatever Peter was going to say or do.

“Gwen and I are going for ice cream and she wants you two to come.”

“We’ll be there in a moment,” Harry assured his best friend. Peter nodded and stood there for a couple of seconds before closing the door once again.

You inhaled sharply. Did Harry understand that he had just accepted going on a double date or were you hallucinating and it was a casual thing? The date would be fake for you, but a date nonetheless.

He elbowed you on the side. “Come on, it’s a good chance to see how he acts.”

Nodding, you slowly started storing the chess pieces. He helped so you would hurry up, almost teasingly.

“What’s your favorite ice cream flavor?” he asked, fixing his hair while hunched over in front of your vanity’s mirror.

You grunted, closing the door of the closet where you stored the chessboard. “Chocolate but I avoid it unless I’m really craving it because it can trigger migraines— I usually order vanilla with some type of nuts or try a new flavor. What’s yours?”

“Something with cherries, or mocha-chocolate. Ready?”

You just nodded as an answer. Harry offered his hand to you as you walked down the stairs, reminding you the show was about to begin. Sliding your palm into his from under his arm, you bit the inside of your bottom lip, briefly trying to focus on anything other than the warmth he radiated while scolding yourself again for misjudging him so damn much.

Sam pushed the front door open before Peter could pull it. The older man smiled at him and Gwen, then lifted an eyebrow upon seeing you hold hands with someone. “Going out?”

“For ice cream,” the blonde said in that nice tone she always spoke that you had never been able to muster.

“Have fun, and don’t let Peter eat too much sugar because he gets annoying.” Sam’s tease came with a look into your eyes.

Asserting Sam was only trying to make sure you were comfortable, you hummed and intertwined your fingers between Harry’s. “We will just make him take a few laps until he gets tired.”

“Or until he throws up like when we were in high school and Flash spun him around in the trip to six flags.”

Harry and you tilted your heads toward the same direction at Gwen’s words. You had never attended school trips so you didn’t even know about that. Sam giggled while seeing the synchronization of the gesture and strut past you. At least the confusion was useful.

You allowed Pete and Gwen to lead the way, mostly so the couple wouldn’t realize you were still getting used to public displays of affection— or each other’s presence and touch for that matter.

The walk wasn’t long, five blocks tops. Peter had once told you that was Gwen’s favorite ice cream place while passing in front of it so you weren’t surprised by them getting into the cornered shop.

Harry leaned to whisper in your ear, “don’t even dare to say you’ll pay.”

You sent him a glare. He glared back, trying to make you understand the situation you were in and how it would look. A defeated hum left your lips and he hummed back in answer for some reason.

He let go of your hand slowly, as if it was painful for him to do it, and told you to go find a table with Gwen. The blonde was already picking one as he said it, but you still did what he said because he knew his best friends better than you in social and public situations.

Peter stayed with Harry as he placed the order, opening his mouth to tell him which flavor to ask for you. He clamped his mouth shut when his best friend asked for vanilla ice cream with hazelnuts. Stuttering, he whisper-shouted, “how did you know?!”

Harry huffed a laugh, handing the money to pay for his and your dessert. “I pay attention.”

Gwen told you so happy that she was glad you were finally spending time together that you almost felt bad. The blonde couldn’t be blamed for having been chosen by Peter, you knew it, and at that moment you again cursed Tony but this time for making you spend so much time watching the couple. Maybe if you didn’t know so little about Gwen or if you hadn’t had to watch her kiss Peter on a daily basis, you would be able to look past the fact she was dating your crush.

You were closely sat around the circled table, waiting for Peter and Harry to sit down somewhat in front of you although with the size of the furniture it would be more beside you. Pete got there first because he had ordered before Harry, smiling at both of you. The musical ambiance wasn’t as bad as it could have been. Taylor Swift was playing, something usual in a commercial place, and Gwen beside you started humming.

Peter made a comment about not knowing that song, probably trying to spark small talk. You hated small talk, and even more when people you were acquainted with tried to force it when there was no need.

Harry slid your dessert toward you lightly and smoothly as he sat down. “I didn’t order chocolate because we have school tomorrow and don’t want you having migraines.”

Gwen stopped humming, blinking cartoonishly while staring at her best friend before sharing a look with Peter. You saw it and ignored it, thanking Harry with a tight-lipped smile.

The blonde also was the one to spark real conversation, telling you all about the possibilities of getting a job just after graduating. You heard her between spoonfuls, she was more talkative than you had asserted but the topic was interesting enough— Gwen wanted to use her journalistic work to bring important issues to the general readers and open their eyes, you couldn’t really be against anyone with those ideas.

Harry took a spoonful of your ice cream, making you swallow a laugh. There was nothing funny about it, but he did it so spontaneously it was new to you. “That’s better than I thought it would be.”

“How did you think it would be?”

“I had never tasted hazelnuts,” he clarified, moving his cup closer so you’d taste his favorite flavor of ice cream.

Taking a spoonful of his cup, you allowed it to melt in your mouth to taste it properly. It wasn’t bitter like you thought it would be, but the sweetness didn’t overpower the natural acid of the cherry.

“The chopped black cherries balance out the sweetness from the red cherry ice cream perfectly,” you conceded. He nodded, a thin smile appearing on his face.

The couple accompanying you couldn’t do what Harry and you had done, both had ordered funfetti ice cream and were only watching the interaction with curious eyes before Gwen had the idea of feeding Peter. Harry and you tried not to cringe at the sight, not out of jealousy but because of how corny it was— or a little bit of both.

[tatiletotesamaze]

(found this while looking for something else. I can only assume it’s related to my big ethics essay considering what’s at the bottom, but even my digital file keeping is akin to post-it notes and scatted pieces of paper.)

"If the Empire is to have my life, why can't I have a say in how long they should have it? If I can decide what to do within it, why not outside it?" Rochester looked uneasily to Simone. She stared back at him, placid as a river sheathed in ice.

"If you get that," she said after a while. "Why can't I get that?"

"You should. I should. We paid our dues." Maybe everyone has.

For (contrived purpose) Wilhelm, Rochester and Qiu find themselves on a planet recently instituted with new leadership Imperial. In disguise they are not Imperial citizens and are treated harshly by the enforcement officers. Rochester area this as an injustice to the empire as he knows it: a corruption of the ideal of progress under Imperial leadership, the use of sith ideology outside of context. Wilhelm, being off a lower class, sees it as rote. There is a brief discussion on the ship about relationships: the expectation of Rochester to have had the marriage with Stion'n (or some other appropriate woman) before the intervention of Sith, Qiu remarks she gave eggs to the eugenics programme and Willem points out he "failed" an exam on 97/100 and  did not get invited to the programme despite surpassing colleagues in areas untested. As they prepare to leave Rochester involves himself in a riot against the planetary governor, believing that they will be replaced for their failings. It's some weeks later, on another planet, he learns of the retribution meted out against the populace, and sees the extent of the propaganda used.

"If there's no reward or punishment for unjust acts and likewise for just, or that for this moment we not consider them and think only of the act themselves, why act justly? Or unjustly?"

"Nothing?"

"Nothing at all."

Rochester shrugged. "I can't think of anything."

"So nothing in the act itself is preventing you?"

"You said no external factors. Aren't my own feelings external factors to the act?"

"So the justness or unjustness of an act is not in the act itself?"

"I don't know. Is a human life different to a leaf, if we don't consider consequences?"

"A 'human' life?"

"Sorry, a person's."

"And we consider consequences?"

"Aren't those the external factors? I wouldn't be rewarded for saving a murderer from drowning but rather punished for it?"

"Is a person's life not inherently worth something?"

"Beyond their being a murderer?"

"I think we might be getting off track."

"Well, if you remove consequences of the action, doesn't the action then become amoral?"

"How so?"

"There's no question of justice when I wave my hand, but if I strike someone with it, then the question arises. But if there's no consequence to myself or the person I hit, where's the need to question its justice or morality?"

"So, you think the justness of an action might stem from it taking place in a system of consequences and reactions?"

"I suppose so." A little uneasy. Unsure of his answers and thoughts for the road ahead was unpaved and long, and shrouded in ignorance.

It is, in the Imperial culture, just that the Sith might rule as they do for they are favoured, might is within their nature and the weakness self correcting in their system.

It is to be above one's station if, being not force sensitive, one attempts to exercise that rule of might.

The empire as a tool of sith has the might to be right, but its citizens within must act appropriately. As all citizens are equal, they are to act equally to each other (but they aren't equal, class and breeding are paramount, where it is merit one might advance but first merit is birth). To act as a sith is to put oneself on their footing, and thereby in their court. So that all citizens are equally protected from the Sith court, no citizen must enter it.

Under the sphere of philosophy comes the ministry of education which, in its entirety, covers education from childhood to adulthood, propaganda and censorship. Censorship in part extends the role of sith who search for heretics by ensuring that texts published to have anti-Imperial sentiment. This might include, but is not limited to, characters engaging in un-virtuous or sinful acts who do not get their comeuppance (see Hayes code) or who are otherwise depicted sympathetically, expect where they are sith and act in a sith manner (that is virtuous to a sith but not a citizen). Less so on core worlds but common on those conquered is the existence of illegal printing presses (sometimes actually paper and ink) that create anti-Imperial leaflets alongside unapproved works or uncensored versions of sort after works. Even though romance is a common genre in the empire and many books are sold cross borders, the Cabinet censors parts or rewrites whole chapters to better suit "Imperial tastes".

Virtues of the Empire:

Loyalty

Of the citizen:

Honesty

Integrity

"Strength of will"/perseverance

Charity to children

Courage

Pride (in the empire and ones achievements)

Wisdom

Temperance of action and feeling (self discipline)

Orderliness *at once keeping stuff in order, but also understanding one's place in the empire

Will to excellence *the best me and the best I can do makes the empire better as a whole or the the best I can do for the empire is the best me

cleanliness *don't smell

Unity *not necessarily friendliness, but not rocking the boat as it were

"In all ones actions and duties to uphold the standards of the Empire"

Timely - to know when best to be serious and to be jovial. Also, be on fucking time

Respectfulness

Of the Sith:

Cunning

Wisdom

To live one's truth (the existential ideal)

Strength

Will to power

Justice (upholding Imperial laws and ideals)

Magnificence

The Sith might also be expected to perform the virtues of the citizens listed above, particularly those of being timely, orderly and clean. When in the presence of Sith of higher standing, or of citizens of high standing particularly those of the military or intelligence, then such actions will also be expected.

Temperance (self discipline) - the Sith rule and control their emotions. Though one might become powerful through unbridled rage, one might lose oneself to it and lose one's mental faculties including (ironically) the _will_ to power, making one un-Sith-like.

As ever, these virtues are not to be practiced in excess nor be shied from. Life in the Empire is a balancing act.

The Empire contains three formal classes, four if slaves are considered.

There are the Citizens, which one could class all as for they all live within the Empire, but Citizens are those who are born to Imperial families, typically within core Imperial worlds. They have the force of longevity behind them, their presence and purpose within the Empire is inherent. They have the tried and true Imperial education, in mathematics, warfare, literature and the sciences. They all hold in some form a military position. A teacher can be called upon to fire a gun, as a baker can be expected to fix a tank. Full time military service is performed by all citizens for four years, and after that either continue within the military system or return to perform other vital roles within the Empire.

De facto citizens or the Treatise'd. Those living in planets the Empire has conquered, by war or through the Treaty of Coruscant. Formal expectations of them are the same, however Citizens oft treat them, not necessarily with contempt but not with high expectations. Citizens see their lack of Imperial education (something being rectified but sorely lacking in the adult generations) as a fault that prevents them from performing the best they can for the Empire (see the virtues). This disregard for their own experiences, talents and cultures does, to put it mildly, chafe the De Facto citizens.

The Sith. They can learn philosophy. It's not the most popular subject, but many who do involve themselves in the Ministry of Education, and by extension the Bureau of Propaganda and the censorship cabinet. Philosophy is a poor subject for citizens, as it gives one the ability to ask questions and not necessarily accept the answers given.

Rule consequentialism (not utility as this implies Bentham et al, but "to the betterment of the Empire" that is, does this action benefit the Empire, how so, to what extent) and virtue, as outlined. As the legal system must exist for the society to function there are of course pre-existing rules.

For an example from the game, murder. It is implicitly stated that murder is _not_ allowed (the quest of the acolyte sith ganking civs) through much of the society, up to the Dark Council, where it seems to be a matter of not getting caught (a virtue of the Sith is therefore cunning; Darth Thanaton's adherence to tradition in the face of the easier route is seen as an eccentricity ultimately turned weakness).

Education in the Sith language starts at an early age. For those who are sith born to sith, it is a natural process of learning as with any mother tongue. For those who have force abilities at a young age, or are believed to be likely of showing them, this is a more formal education one might expect on a school setting, starting also at a young age. Obviously this approach favours those who have the opportunity to learn and whose abilities can be either reasonably expected it recognised. Those who come into their abilities late, or come from de facto worlds, or even are slaves, may never receive this education. The ability to speak the sith language is a merit. This is how merits play out in the Empire, and how their meritocracy works. Birth is a merit, opportunity and privilege also.

[ofstoriesandstardust]

“actually... I just miss you” with Draco pls ?? 💕💕💕

A/N: Hey guys! I’ve been reblogging prompt lists the past couple of days in the hopes someone would request something for Harry Potter and guess it paid off. Was very excited to see this prompt in my inbox this morning and I’ve been planning it out all day. I’m trying to get out of my HP funk and write all the other million requests in my inbox but until then, here’s this. As usual, your House isn’t stated, so just whatever is your actual House. 

Prompt (from this prompt list): “Actually… I just miss you.”

Word Count: 1,541

We’re Ok

Your POV

Your 5th year at Hogwarts had been a whirlwind. From the arrival of Dolores Umbridge to the formation of the DA to studying for your O.W.L.s to Dumbledore leaving Hogwarts, you felt like you couldn’t catch a break. Time never seemed to stop or slowed down and you found yourself realizing you hadn’t eaten a meal in days or spoken to your boyfriend, Draco Malfoy, in a week. Which is the situation you currently found yourself in. You had spent the last two weeks living in the library as you had a huge Charms revision exam coming up, one that was meant to prepare you for your O.W.L. test. You and Hermione studied day and night, determined to do well. However, it wasn’t as if your boyfriend had been doing much better. Although he wasn’t studying as nearly as much as you had, he was still studying and in between that, he was running around attending to Umbridge’s every wicked need. Merlin, you hated that wretched woman. Part of the reason you joined the DA was to fight back against her. You had sworn your secrecy to the trio and they were happy to have you. For months you had hidden it from Draco, causing arguments and your boyfriend to doubt your faithfulness to the relationship, which was absolute ludicrous. When the DA got busted, things reached a boiling point and you had a screaming match that left your throats raw and your relationship on the brink of no return. The two of you had spent the last month or so barely spending enough time together to still be considered dating. Sure, you were still upset that you were going to take a side, the right side, in the war that was quickly coming and you were upset that he accused you of cheating but above all, you missed him. Walking away from your fight hurt like hell and the thought of losing him was even worse. Which is how you found yourself staring at the contents of one of your books, but not absorbing any of the information on the page in front of you. Your mind was too busy whirling with the recent escapees from Azkaban and the dynamic change in your relationship with Malfoy. Next to you, Ginny, Fred, George, Harry, Neville, Ron, and Hermione sat around laughing at some snarky comment Ginny had made. It was lunchtime on a Saturday and instead of actually eating and enjoying time with your newfound friends, your mind was wandering. Seamus and Dean sat across from you, trying to coax you out of your daze. Eventually, you handed them the book and reached for some food. A break wouldn’t hurt, especially since you weren’t achieving any actual studying. As you begin to eat, someone sat down across from you, causing you to look up. Draco. He looked mildly uncomfortable and the entire group shifted away from him. “What?” You mumbled, a mouth full of food. 

“Charming.” One of the twins stated, smirking. You lobbed a carrot at his head and he ducked, just barely missing. 

“What do you want?” turning your attention back to your boyfriend. Your words came out harsher then you had intended them to and you couldn’t miss the way he flinched. 

“Nothing, I just… just wanted to ask you if you wanted to come with me to Hogsmeade next weekend. It’s been a long time since we’ve really spent time together.” He asked, offering you a small smile. As tempting as the offer was, you shook your head. There was studying to be done. All fun could wait until after your O.W.L.s. At least that’s what you told yourself as you saw the way Draco deflated. “Are you sure you’re really studying? Because I mean-”

“Yes, I’m really studying. Unlike you, I actually have to work for my success. It’s not all just handed to me on a silver platter from Mummy and Daddy remember?” You snarked and the twins raised their eyebrows at your response. “Anyways, me and Hermione are studying next weekend, right Mione?” You asked. She nodded and opened her mouth, probably to give confirmation but instead noticed the way Ron was still shoveling food into his mouth and gave him a disgusted look.

“Ron, do you ever stop eating like some sort of… pig?!” You sighed as the entire table erupted into laughter. 

“Whatever.” Draco muttered as he stormed off. You sighed and put your fork down, rubbing your eyes. Hermione offered you a sympathetic smile. You shook your head and grabbed your book. 

“Where are you going?” Harry asked as you stood up from the table. 

“‘M not hungry anymore.” 

-

A few days later, you sat in the library, yawning. Classes were over for the day but you were stuck revising for Ancient Runes when all you really wanted was a nap. Hermione had ditched you for the day, instead choosing to hang out with her friends in their Common Room. You were moments away from calling it quits and crashing right there on the table when you spotted your boyfriend looking for you. You closed your book as he sat down next to you. He immediately leaned in next to you and you wrapped your arms around him. You ran your fingers through his hair as you closed your eyes. Despite all your anger, you truly had missed this, missed him. “Everything alright love?” You asked. He shrugged, not responding. You sat there for a few more minutes before you decided that you really needed to get up and take a nap, otherwise, you’d fall asleep with your boyfriend cuddling you right there in the library. Then Madam Pince would have your head and you did not want that. You pulled away and begin to pack up your things. “Alright, as much as I’d like to continue this, I need a nap.” You said as you yet again yawned, further proof you really needed some sleep. Draco seemed to deflate a little more and he nodded solemnly. You stood there in silence for a few moments and then sighed. “You can come with me if you want.” You offered, and he looked up at you. For a moment you thought he was going to tell you no and you waited with bated breath. But then he nodded and he took your outstretched hand. You didn’t talk much on the way back to your dorm but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. As soon as you got to your dorm, you crashed on to the bed, dropping the books right next to you on the floor. Draco was more hesitant to follow but eventually crawled into the bed next to you. You curled right into him and he carded his fingers through your hair. You began to doze at the feeling and soon you were asleep. 

-

You blinked your eyes as you came back into consciousness. You realized it was somewhat darker in your room than when you had fallen asleep and meant to roll over, but couldn’t due to Draco’s arms still wrapped around you. He seemed to be lost in his train of thought and he looked mildly upset. You shook your head, telling yourself it was just because you were still tired. “What time is it?” You asked, successfully shaking Draco from his thoughts. He looked down at you. 

“You’re awake.” He smiled softly. You yawned yet again and nodded. 

“Yeah, I haven’t been sleeping much lately.” To be completely honest, when you weren’t staying up until the wee hours of the morning studying, your mind was plagued by this situation with Draco. It was at that moment you realized that this was the closest you and Draco had been in months. “Studying and all.” He nodded, his gazing moving to stare off into space again. His fingers continued to run through your hair and with his other hand, he drew small circles on your knuckles with his thumb. “So, uh, hey, I have a question for you.” You asked hesitantly, pulling his attention back to towards you. He nodded, signaling you to continue. “Is everything ok? You just seemed upset earlier in the library today.” And you haven’t sought me out for support in months. He shrugged and cleared his throat. 

“Actually… I just miss you.” He said softly.

“I’ve missed you too.” You stated, looking up at him. 

“I’m sorry. So sorry for the stupid fight. I’m sorry I accused you of cheating on me, which I know, is absolutely ridiculous, and I am sorry for not understanding where you were coming from but I just got so scared and I didn’t want to lose you. I know that’s no excuse but-” 

“Hey, hey, I was at fault too ok? I put in you in a comprising position and I know we’re both just terrified of this war that’s coming, no matter what side we choose. I am sorry too. But we’re ok, and that’s all that matters.” 

“We’re ok?” He asked, his eyes searching yours for the confirmation that you were indeed ok, that you weren’t going anywhere, that he wasn’t going to lose you. You nodded. 

“We’re ok.”

[isagrimorie]

@glompcat

replied to your post

“I was listening to “Talking Who to You” and their review of Diary of...”

They sometimes almost seem to have a hint of an interesting idea to explore with her in that regard, but then since they refuse to actually examine these things just abandon it. Like in Legacy of Time, when Benny started to question what River really *means* when she talks about being married. Or in Eight of March's Emancipation where River expressed envy for two seconds that Leela lived on Gallifrey with her Time Lord husband. Which also opened up the fascinating whole subject of how much River really knows/understands. She studied the Doctor, she learned about them and their friends from academic texts and third and fourth hand accounts. She clearly doesn't actually *know* most things, and I wish we could see more of her coming up against the fact she doesn't actually understand everything, that she is clinging to these assured ideas and yet the reality of the situation still surprises her etc

Instead of like... constantly needing to write stories where River's odd view is affirmed as right. Like in Emancipation she comments that she understands Time Lords just as well as Leela, and that just... continues to stick out to me. Because obs Leela didn't challenge that as she had no idea who River was, which meant that just went on by without comment and just... confused the shit out of me. She isn't a first hand expert and authority on everything. She's an academic, an archaeologist. She's still never met any Time Lords other than the Doctor and the Master, and most of what she knows is based on a lifetime of academic study. That *could* lead to hilarious misunderstanding/vulnerability in her stories when she does have to meet up with the Doctor.

Oh man. Yes, those two stories! 

I was especially disappointed with the Legacy of Time story with Benny when it suddenly became ALL about Eight. Here are two awesome women, who are so similar to each other and all the writers could think about was put Eight into the story. 

And then doesn’t even delve deeper into it. I figure Benny’s expression the whole time was mildly confused and ‘seriously?. 

And you bring up a good point! For the longest time all River knew about the Doctor is what Madam Kovarian taught her, she is an academic! Also, of all people to say she knows Time Lords as much as Leela... who has lived with Time Lords, and not just one outlier renegade Time Lord. 

I was also pretty annoyed with majority of the story until the last part but man, I really need a writer to really push more into River’s story and dig deeper. They could go for a more comedic effect with it too! 

 It certainly would be a more interesting thing to explore than jokes about how because she's married to the Doctor it is magically ok for her to strip them naked and have her way with them when they're unconscious, like we got in the boxset where she met Five. Which was just... such a rollercoaster for me as it is the one where she gets to confront Kevorkian! 

Oh. God. That boxset. 

I know what you mean. I was so uncomfortable, and clearly Five didn’t know what was going on nor did he want to participate with anything River was trying to initiate. 

It also goes to my point of -- just because The Doctor married her, doesn’t mean it travels back to the Doctor’s other lives. I can maybe accept this up until Eight because he straddles the line of Pre- and during Time War, the catalyst that changed the Doctor into the person River fell in love with. 

Moffat might be all into the Time Traveler’s Wife story but I’m a firm believer of ‘right time, right place’. The Doctor pre-Time War isn’t the exact same person that becomes the post-Time War Doctor/Post-almost recovery Doctor who falls in love with River. Pre-Time War Doctor isn’t ready to fall in love with River, the Doctor has a whole life before River, a whole family before River. Just as much as she should and does have her own life outside of the Doctor, the Doctor had a whole history before River. 

Yet even there, when Kevorkian is there and they are literally inside a copy of River's childhood bedroom there was no real grappling with what it means that River studied the Doctor-as-monster her whole youth long that she was training to kill them literally every day of her childhood, and yes, somewhere along the way things changed, so what happened, when did she start to see the Doctor differently, and what misconceptions does she still carry with her from her earlier studies and how do they inform how she sees the Doctor's actions/their relationship now? 

I can only nod here, because like I mentioned in the post, I wanted to know when exactly did River really fall in love with the Doctor and not just the idea of the Doctor or the things she knew about him? When was the first moment that didn’t have to do with any of those things did she realize she’s in love with him, for realsies? 

When she meets these people who knew the Doctor like Benny or Leela (or Susan or Ian or Barbara etc except I haven't heard that box set of Diaries yet unlike the others) how do their impressions contrast with her own? 

Not to harp on about that one off story too much, but it stood out to me due to its obvious positioning as both written and directed by women, but I do think about things like how in The Eighth of March Emancipation she kept insinuating that the Doctor mainly kept Leela around for eye candy and how that showed this MASSIVE lack of understanding of Four and what he was about and it really fascinates me, like what does it mean for an Academic to literally fall in love with the subject of her studies? Particularly an Archaeologist whose field is built on piecing together desperate remnants to create an incomplete idea of a whole? Like if her stories must all culminate in being about the Doctor (which based on some things said in Vortex I think may have been part of what Moffat told them to do with her) 

‘Like if her stories must all culminate about being about the Doctor’ AUGH. This is so frustrating. Especially the part about what River’s insinuating about Leela, who is awesome and fantastic. I mean, isn’t enough she still gets called Savage in Gallifrey? And River has to pile that on top too. Thankfully this rolls off of Leela, but honestly, that was uncalled for. 

why not actually explore how and why she reached the conclusions she did in Husbands of River Song, which is of course always in her future? It's set after all of these adventures we listen to, so why not - if a Doctor plot is needed - focus on how she reached the conclusions she did there if that speech was sincere? 

THIS THIS THIS.

IDK. There is so much they could explore with her but they just don't seem willing to challenge her... authority? In a way that ultimately undercuts her, because she is constantly positioned in a mold that removes any actual work needed to gain information/the upper hand/her level of skill. So rather than being the result of hard work and effort, it's just... how it is. Which de-powers her. IDK, I kept trying with Diaries I really did, but it actually was the one with Tom Baker in it that made me give up.

“they just don't seem willing to challenge her... authority? In a way that ultimately undercuts her, because she is constantly positioned in a mold that removes any actual work needed to gain information/the upper hand/her level of skill.“

Yes, this, exactly! It’s like the writers are way too afraid to handle River with anything but reverence and care. And for a story to work, characters shouldn’t be handled like they’re made of glass! 

In the end, what happens is, it feels like the stories are all telling not showing. 

The start of it (Diary of River Song boxset with Four), long before the story with the Doctor in it, had people who knew her as students at Luna University in it, and the way the story dealt with them and their relationship to River, it was honestly insulting, not just to the characters but to anyone who has ever been in graduate school. Like they kept fundamentally refusing to either understand or care to understand what being in an Academic institute means. By claiming it was all so easy for River and removing the effort and skill needed, they are de-powering her PhD. By making the other students all so incompetent in comparison to her, they are again... - her PhD. Hell, now that they've established Benny was her tutor, they're depowering Benny (ED: emphasis mine) in the process. And that is not even starting to touch on the dynamic of having the other academic in that story ultimately hating River because her Husband had been in love with River and asked her out one time in Grad school before River rejected him and he is still hung up on River? Like who thought that was a good dynamic?

... 

Which is I guess a lot of words to essentially say that Big Finish often refuses to take River off this strange pedestal of hyper-competent perfection, where she is always the most clever person in the room, always knows the answer, and even in her fucks ups and failures is still ~the expert~ in full. But in so doing the value in her expertise, the hard work, the real strength it took for her to get to where she is... well to be deemphasized it has to even be a factor which it never is, as it just doesn't seem to exist for them at all. She just knows everything until the plot demand she doesn't so things can move along, and when she knows it she knows it best, and if you question this in any way she'll respond with a joking quip and won't you look silly than, and that is that.

☝️☝️☝️

Whole heartedly agree, Big Finish isn’t doing the work they should be doing to really explore her character, and we know from other stories that they can actually deepen a character’s back story and add more insight to them too! 

I mean, my favorite BF Doctors (other than Eight) are Six and Five with Peri and Erimem! 

BF has had so many opportunities to do better by River but they always end up going the easy way instead of doing the hard work to explore a) who River is outside of her programming, how much it’s affected her and b) make River face up to questions about her feelings for the Doctor. 

c) Also, just like with Kate Stewart in UNIT, I don’t want to hear the Brig’s name uttered in the presence of and around Kate. I don’t want River to run into the Doctor in the next couple of boxsets. 

[lottalucamotion]

Strike + 👹🍊🌺🧡💜💗

Ma Boyyy (putting this under cut because it got long and rambly)

How does my OC act around different people and how does their personality change to match the environment they are in?

Strike has always been a bit on the defensive side when it comes to meeting new people. It got worse after his accident since he got so used to people judging him based on his looks and his past. His first impressions are usually quite harsh and aggressive. He’ll act territorial with people he feels he doesn’t now well, even if they are people he’s known for a long time. With friends, he adopts a much more playful “unpleasantness” to his personality. He likes to tease and be teased, though he rarely ever goes too far with his joking. He may not seem it but he is quite hyper aware of people’s mannerisms and body language, so he’s good at knowing where people’s boundaries lie. When it comes to lovers, well his only real lover was Hot Shot. Before he met Hot Shot and after he lost him, he’s really just been a flirt and a heartbreaker. As I said, him making strict social boundaries has always been in his nature, so him yielding himself to long lasting relationships takes someone very special. With Hot Shot, he treated him quite a bit like a friend, the difference being that he felt that he could be vulnerable around him. He would still try to hide his feelings, but he and Hot Shot were good at reading each other. Once one caught on, the other would surrender and allow further communication and comforting. Even as a passing lover, Strike is surprisingly tender. He really likes physical touch. Everyone just tends to assume he’s to abrasive for things like hugs and cuddling. Physical displays of affection whether platonic or romantic are Strike’s most effective form of communication when it comes to showing how he feels about someone. Touch of some kind is important when building relationships with him, plus he just really enjoys it.

Does my OC have any triggers? Why do these things trigger them? What are they like when they are triggered and how do they calm down?

Strike as the story is currently has PTSD from his accident but doesn’t know it yet. It manifests pretty similar to depression in his every day life. He’s haunted by his feelings of guilt and fear that he will loose someone he cares about not just due to action, but also inaction. He’s grown more prone to acting aggressively when he feels threatened, even mildly (like what he did with Flat Top in the second chapter). He’s always been a but trigger happy when it comes to fighting, but it wouldn’t escalate so quickly from small things. He has nightmares and insomnia linked to thoughts of his accident. He’s become emotionally detached, unable to open himself up emotionally to any romantic relationships. His trigger is loud metallic noise akin to the sound of a train crash and the smell of burning fuel. When the noises aren’t as loud/sudden he may feel a sort of “itch” and may begin to act frustrated and punch or body check walls or other fixtures.  When more severe he will experience a flashback in which he will feel sharp pain on the left side of his face, and he will begin to dissociate where he will shut down to his surroundings, tense up, shake, and breath shallowly. If touched he may go into fight or flight mode. To calm down, he usually will go to a quiet spot and try to breath and pinpoint small details to help him come back into reality.

What additions would my oc make to their body if they could?

An engine that isn’t faulty and bigger muscles, because what diesel engine doesn’t always want bigger muscles?

What traits of my own do I see in this oc? Are they a bit self-inserty?

Honestly I had originally conceptualized Strike to be a self insert, though I feel like the more I wrote him, the more I sort of deviated him from that original role. We have a lot in common and much of his story is inspired by my own life, but he’s nowhere near being a carbon copy of myself. He and I live the same life in a much more metaphorical sense. Strike’s a non literal reflection of my traits, desires, insecurities, and fears. Strike’s appearance is inspired by my own, but also inspired what I wish I looked like, as well as what I’m self conscious about. For example, Strike’s damaged face is a reflection of a rare condition I have where the nerves on the left side of my face don’t function like they are supposed to if at all. It’s been a cause of insecurity and has seemed to make people assume things about me throughout my life, but it’s a part of who I am, so I often reflect it in some way when I create new characters, Strike is far from the first, but his experience is the most similar to my own. Strike’s story comes from my experiences and fears of loosing people I care about, being forgotten about, becoming a has-been before I could be, loosing control of myself and my life, and my desire to have someone close in my life who I can not only rely on, but who can also rely on me. I actually began writing Strike’s story shortly after starting treatment for my mental health, and he has helped me come to grips with who I am, and where to go from here.

That being said, there are differences, I share Strike’s difficulty in connecting with people, but I’m not aggressive when it comes to first meetings, or a flirt by any stretch of the imagination. I didn’t grow up like he did, though there are people (mostly positive influences) in his life who are inspired by people who positively influenced me. I’m a bit playfully sassy with close friends, but not to the amount that Strike is. I have a stubborn streak, but in Strike it’s heavily amplified. Strike’s generally a lot more of an asshole than I am.

Do you enjoy working on your oc or are they a bit of a chore?

I quite enjoy writing Strike, so I would not say he’s a chore at all. He’s probably one of the few characters I’ve been able to naturally flow with.

Ramble a bit about this character.

Let’s talk a bit about the relationship between Strike and Rusty. While writing Strike’s story, I want his story to be almost just as much Rusty’s as it is his. He and Rusty started their lives quite differently but almost ended up switching places. Strike was a successful young engine who’s situation was changed for the worst by one incident. Rusty was a beaten down underdog whose life was changed for the better after one major event. While Strike is a more abrasive personality, both he and Rusty share a stubbornness about them, for better or for worse. They will occasionally butt heads, but they seem to understand one another pretty well. Rusty has been in Strike’s place so while he feels bad for him, he knows that Strike still wants to be treated with dignity. In turn, Strike places his trust in Rusty more than anyone else. Strike feels weak and all he really wants in life it to be able to be strong for other people in his life. In a sense Strike begins to feel like he owes Rusty. While he trusts Rusty he also will often hide how he feels from Rusty out of fear that he will drag him down in the process by placing his problems on him. He was brought to the yard mainly to help Rusty, so he feels pressured to do a good job at that.

[starship-melancholy]

The verdict

My name is Fox, I'm 28 years old. I've spent the majority of my 28 years living in a constellation of multiple singularities, and although I haven't always been around, I have spent long enough time in this body and brain to claim it as mine.

I'm a fighter. I guess, in a way, I evolved as someone's overreactive fight or flight response, brought on by a series of painful events that damaged the psyche of the child we once were, and deformed her development irreversibly.

So I fought my way through that. I fought for Phoenix, I fought against our demon, and after our great loss, I kept fighting for TP and myself. Today, we are a (more or less) binary system and we work to create a better life for us, our loved ones, and the last little shard of the innocent child that remained from our old self.

But the brain we inhabit is faulty in more than one way. Something went wrong during a point of its development, and this has resulted in a life-long difference in the way we experience the world around us and how we interact with it and the people around us.

For a long time, I didn't know about this. From my point of view, the world has been a vaguely hostile and mildly, but constantly unpleasant place, where it was a part of the human experience that everyday things and actions would cause one discomfort.

Stuff like, every shoe had to be uncomfortable, most clothes would painfully rub your skin the whole day, or that everybody had the right to touch you at their leisure, whether or not it was a welcomed gesture.

Later on, when life became unbearably painful, they would give you drugs that made you want to end it all. And no matter how you tried to tell them, they'd insist you keep on taking them. Obviously, they were fed up by you being difficult, and this was just an easy way to get rid of you.

When I started to open the capsules and secretly flush their content down the toilet, taking the empty shells only, the suicidal urges subsided, which only confirmed my belief of being poisoned. Consequently, I refused to take any medication for long years.

Where there has only been misguided attempts to help me, I saw malice, and it alienated me from my parents and the rest of my family. I started closing off emotionally, and they couldn't do anything but watch me grow distant, until there was virtually nothing left.

I suffered most of my trauma alone, I battled my depression and the increasingly intense dissociation on my own. I got used to not trusting people, always trying to help others, spreading love and positivity wherever I went, but taking none of it in return.

By the time I moved out, the walls of my universe closed in on me, and I could no longer sleep, and the waking world was separated from me by a constant haze of unreality, which I could no longer break through.

At this point, I tried once again to ask for help, but according to the psychiatrist, I was perfectly fine, I just needed to stop drinking and get my shit in gear.

You know what? I would have loved to have my shit in gear. I was a gifted student, but I was deemed lazy and irresponsible, because I couldn't keep up with the pressure of a highly demanding full-time education, a side job, running a household and dealing with the newly found freedom and social activities I craved as a constant distraction from my miserable state.

My life spiralled out of control, and I was lost in a whirlwind of nightmarish emotions I could neither handle nor disregard. I became a casualty of my own inability to handle the freedom and adult life I so longed for. I dropped out of my education, went through a series of ill-fitting jobs, moved countries repeatedly, I built and destroyed new identities and lifestyles for myself more times than I could count.

And in the end, I failed. And in a way, it cost me my life. My integrity, at least. Phoenix died as a consequence of all the abuse, neglect and bad decisions that illustrated our life since our early teenage years.

And as she gave up, so did I become truly myself, free from our past at last, I got one last chance to make a life that's worth living.

And just like that, it happened. I found out, I wasn't alone after all. In the past five years, I've met and shared my life with so many amazing people that prove to me that everything that was before is not all there is to the world, who taught me that there was more to me than fighting, that I didn't have to suffer every minute of every day. That I deserved redemption.

It was a long journey, and it's far from over, but today, my life is good. I'm at my emotional peak, I've never been this content with myself, my relationships, my goals and my progress. My circumstances have improved tenfolds, I am no longer homeless, starving, it fighting for the bare minimum. I have finished an education, I have a great job, a family that loves and supports me. Pets I adore, and friends that accept me.

Unfortunately, as life got more and more stable, and as I slowly managed to put my gloves down, all the bottled up damage of 28 years came crashing down on me, and my mental health has severely deteriorated during the past 1.5 years. By this summer it got so bad that I had to stop working, and I've spent most of my time drugged up, sleeping or being unable to do anything due to the constant fatigue that came with the medication.

And after the dysphoria stemming from this drove TP to the point of attempting suicide just to end all this, we finally made the bravest decision of our lives: we came clean to our doctor about everything – him and I, our depression, suicidal thoughts, history of trauma, all the things we kept so neatly bottled up before. And as expected, his answer was... "Well, this is above my pay grade."

And so we ended up in psychiatry, but this time, properly. And although I approached with caution, and I didn't put much faith in us actually receiving help (not to mention the gut-wrenching impostor syndrome that is known to basically everybody with any kind of special needs or mental health problems, that kept and still keeps telling me that I'm a fraud and I'm faking all of it, and what I'm not faking I just made up), but for once, I was heard.

It was a tough process that involved talking to a variety of people, telling my story, answering questions, the humiliating experience of melting down, going mute, or stuttering in front of strangers, but with the help of my two wonderful partners, I made it through!

And I think I got what I wanted. I got heard. I got acknowledged. And I got a piece of paper proving that I'm a legitimate part of the only community I ever truly felt part of.

So hey guys. My name is Fox, I'm 28 years old, and it turns out, a lot of the things I didn't understand about myself are caused by the fact that I'm autistic, and as a result of all the trauma in my life, I have a dissociative disorder, depression and anxiety.

Welcome to the Petting Zoo, I guess? ;)

[angelreys-blog]

Change...it's inevitable.

Life is a guarantee of only one thing....change. It seems we are always experiencing some form of it whether in relationships, employment, finances, living conditions, etc. In some of these cases we want and crave change and it seems to come slow. Other change comes unexpected and is sadly often tragic or traumatic. But change comes none the less. In fact, some life changes we have actually named. Menopause is known as "the change" for women and "mid-life crisis" for men. Yes, I believe men go through menopause. Lol! When all of our children leave the house, which is a huge adjustment in the world of change, we call that "empty nest". Of course the hardest changes are those that involve relationships and finances.

Friends come and go, only few are lifelong, if we have the privilege of experiencing a life long friend. Sometimes family or those we deem family separate themselves in some way or another, sometimes through divorce, and ironically sometimes through marriage. Other times it is just due to life taking people in different directions or those people trying to figure out the direction of their life; whatever the case...change will come and how we deal with those changes has a great deal to do with the core of our charcter as a human being, the growth or deterioration of that character.

The last couple years in my own life have been the most challenging I have ever faced in my adulthood. My life was introduced to financial disaster, loss of loved ones, friends, businesses, credit, our credibility, and sadly whatever good reputation we had because people judge based only on what they see right in front of them or worse what they hear from others. What we had worked to build over years was lost in what seemed like a moment. A loss so great for us as it involved every aspect of our lives. It hasn't just been financial in losing our businesses, income, and properties, including our home. We lost friends that were family to us. We saw separation within our immediate family. We walked through an immediate family member recieve a diagnosis of cancer and within a few months was gone. It was all incredibly devastating.

I had never felt more alone in life and many times asked God to let me die because I couldn't figure out how to overcome this life-altering place I was in. At that time we lived in a town that printed everything in the paper and to put it mildly we were a weekly occurance due to the lawsuits from the downfall of my husbands company. We tried to sell whatever we could, pay what we could, but ultimatley the debt was so large we couldn't seem to make a dent. The downfall of my husband's business and the people it hurt nearly destroyed him. He went into a dark place that I didn't know he would ever escape from. He wanted to drown out the voices, the death threats, the bill collectors, and the loss he couldn't fix. Our marriage nearly ended and frankly I don't really know how we were able to survive except for the love and grace of God.

I found myself hiding away rarely ever leaving the house unless it was absolutely necessary. I would pray I didn't see anyone because I couldn't take hearing another person tell me they saw our names in the paper again with their judgement and disdain. Not that they intended to be hurtful, or most anyway, they didn't understand how awful it had been and any reminder of it only threw me backwards. Only a few people actually took the time to find out the whole story, most just believed whatever they read or whatever someone else told them. The hardest part was that most of those who were Believers with us never reached out with any form of real help or advice even when we sought it. I saw a side of Christiandome that I hope I can be part of changing.

It seemed when we were doing well we were accepted, supported, help was more then available. When our world fell apart it was as if we had leprosy and everyone scattered. I am not talking about one church in particular. We knew people that attended several different churches. I'm talking about the church as a whole. I am not angry or bitter. I even somewhat understand because I used to behave the same way before this to some degree. Not that I realized it then but certainly do now.

We had only God and some small shred of hope that we had some kind of fight left in us.

Now, a couple years later, still walking through the aftermath of it all as we face the only choice we had left to attempt to rebuild our lives; we see so many things we could not see until healing began.

We don't blame "the church" or those Christians who chose to judge rather than to help. They were just following the examples set before them that sadly teaches when your doing we'll God is blessing you and when your not it must be because your disobedient. Though I realize my situation is not fully comparable to Job's, and though I cannot claim that we didn't make some mistakes and bad choices along the way, I certainly have an understanding about how he must have felt that I didn't have before. I have also found that I am certainly less likely to assume whats happening in someones life than I once was, which I am truly grateful for. God allowed this for a purpose and my part in all of it is to take responsibility of my own behaviors, actions, and decisions. For me to learn and grow and use it to help others. Especially those in similiar situations reminding them they are not alone.

I cannot know what is yet to come or how all of this will work out but my God does. This has not turned me from Him but has pressed me into a deeper place with Him. I could be angry because He could have stopped all this but He never promised me a wonderful life on earth. Yes, he did say we would have life abundantly but that is very different than comfort and ease though sometimes He does allow us those pleasures. However, the definition of abundant is actually this...existing or available in large quantities; plentiful. I don't believe Jesus was talking about money and comfort here but instead he was talking about Himself. That He is available to those who believe in Him and call on His name and accept with thier whole heart that He is the life, the truth, and the only way to God, the Father. He was saying that with Him at our side, no matter what we face, we will have life abundantly because of the inner joy only He can provide. That peace passes all understanding. In fact, He told us that in this world we will have trouble but not to worry because He conquered the world. He is the abundance, not what the world has to offer.

He has shown me there is so much good in all of this hardship and loss. These irreplaceable understandings and lessons that are priceless. Without this dark place my character could not have further developed positively, my faith would not have been rooted deeper, and my eyes could not have been given a greater depth of vision to see hardship differently.

Here's my conclusion...

Don't assume...if you want to know ask but only if you want to know because you truly care about the well being of the person your asking. Otherwise it is just for the sake of gossip.

If you are afraid to ask but genuinely want to help, don't speak what you don't know but instead pray fervently for God's will in the life of whomever you are praying for or whatever situation you are praying over.

If you are the one going through a great hardship, let yourself feel but don't give yourself that permission without also being in the Word to help guide you through it. The enemy will always use our dark places to attempt to turn us against God. We must guard ourselves.

If you are facing a situation you cannot fix, especially one that has caused hardship for others, you have to decide to trust that God is fixing it in His time. We do not often understand God's ways and He reminds us of that when He says in the Word...My ways are not your ways and my thoughts are not your thoughts. God never allows something that won't end up benefitting many. Whatever He is teaching you through your situation, He is using to teach whomever has been effected what He wants them to learn as well. Trust in His timing even when others talk about you, say you have no right to do God's work or even proclaim to be a Believer. Don't ever forget they said those same things about our Savior and He reminds us in His Word that we are not greater than our Master. So stand firm and walk out the path God has you on however long it may take to make things right.

Lend a hand. When you see someone hurting, no matter what you may feel, take them for coffee or dinner. Make them laugh or simply listen and then pray with them right there. We all need to hear and feel those prayers so don't be afraid to be bold in that. It is truly the most encouraging and uplifting thing we can do for one another.

Even if you disagree with someones opinion, don't argue. If what they seem to believe doesn't line up with the Word and they claim to be a Christian ask them how often they read the Word. Most of the time they aren't reading and studying it. Being in church and listening to a preacher or listening to other preachers, speakers, or teachers is not listening to God. God is our teacher first. Everyone else should simply be confirmation of what God is teaching us and if they aren't, stop listening! Encourage others in love to read what the actual writer Himself wrote. Even if its only two verses a day to start. Then pray over them every time you think of them.

Lastly, do unto others as you would have them do unto you. We live in a world that screams...ITS ALL ABOUT ME! ME! ME! Thats not what Jesus taught us. Attempt to put yourself in someone elses place. Get to know them and learn a bit about where they come from and what they have walked through and you might find yourself surprised at how understanding someone can change your perception.

There it is again...change. It may be inevitable but how we respond to it often holds more power and influence than we can understand.

Learn from every situation and change well.

[angelofrainfrogs]

Heatstroke

Fandom: Detroit: Become Human

Pairing: None (Father-Son Relationship w/Dad Hank and Son Connor)

Description: Connor suffers a system malfunction while on a case and finds out that he's more similar to humans than he originally anticipated.

Rating: T

Genre: Family/Hurt/Comfort

WARNING: UNSAFE TEMPERATURE INCREASE

BIOCOMPONENT INSTABILITY

INITIATE COOL-DOWN?

YES                NO

Connor jerked his head to the right, selecting "NO" on the holographic display currently blocking his vision and kept running. He knew he should stop- the large red letters painting themselves directly in his eyesight made that extremely clear. However, he'd been trying to catch this perpetrator for two weeks straight and, now that she'd finally been found, Connor wasn't going to give up the chase that easily.

So what if it happened to be an unnaturally blistering 102 degrees outside? The android's advanced biocomponents should be able to handle the strain long enough for Connor to catch the criminal. He and Hank had worked too many long, tireless hours for Connor to fail now.

The warning began to flash again, repeatedly blocking the android's clear line of sight. His body did feel warm, extremely so, but he would soon find the nearest air-conditioned building and sit there for a few hours, and everything would be okay.

He just had to catch that criminal first.

The obnoxious alert is what Connor attributed to making him knock his foot on a loose brick and stumble. Connor reached towards the perpetrator running further away with every second, as if he could catch her from this distance, eyes locked onto her receding form as the telltale beeping sound of a FULL SYSTEM SHUTDOWN echoed through his head.

"Connor!"

Hank's scream was the last thing Connor heard before he hit the pavement with a sickening thud.

***

SYSTEM REBOOTING: STANDBY

Slowly, sounds began to fade back in. Save for the increased speed of basic life functions, which never truly stopped unless an android was broken, the hearing organs were always the first component to reactivate when an android awoke from a full system shutdown. Ambient sounds of a restaurant faded in: the clattering of plates, employees talking and barking orders, the noise of food sizzling on the stove. However, these sounds were uncomfortably muffled.

Through the fog in his brain, Connor wondered if he'd damaged his hearing organs in the fall. Carefully, allowing time to adjust to the dim lighting, he opened his eyes and took in his surroundings. Beginning an internal scan to assure that all systems and biocomponents were functioning as they should, Connor turned his head to the right and found the reason the sounds were subdued: he was in a large storage pantry at the back of the restaurant, separated from the main kitchen by a closed, partially-insulated door.

Connor shut his eyes briefly, relieved that nothing appeared to be damaged. He had no time to locate a new compatible part; he needed to find that perpetrator and apprehend her before-

"Connor! Oh, thank fucking god!"

Hank's relieved tone prompted Connor to turn his head to the left, just in time to see the detective kneel down next to him and place a hand on his forehead.

"Hank, I'm sorry, I... I overheated," Connor explained, vaguely noting that the pressure on his forehead seemed calming, somehow, though he couldn't quite place why.

"Yeah, so the android-savvy guy on our team told me," Hank responded, the worry lines on his face deepening. "He said as long as I got you somewhere cool so your system could reboot, you'd be alright. This restaurant was the closest building with decent AC."

"Thank you, Hank." Connor offered the briefest of smiles. "You did the right thing; I'll be fine. My system scan is almost complete, and once I've assured that nothing is damaged I can go back out and-"

"Aw, Jesus, shut up," Hank snapped, lifting his hand away only to give Connor's forehead a light flick. "You're staying in here until it stops feelin' like the Sahara Desert outside."

"But-"

"Don't worry, we've got other people on the case; last I heard, they still had eyes on the perp. Just relax, Connor."

The android's lips pursed into a tight line, forehead creasing. He had failed yet another mission due to his inability to listen, this time to his own system regulators. He should have taken the time to cool down before rushing straight out into the heat; he should have known that there was no way he could make it out there more than ten minutes without a break, running at that speed. Androids could withstand a lot, but excessive heat or cold was still one of their weaknesses.

"...I'm sorry, Hank," Connor said, face still crinkled frustration.

"Stop fuckin' apologizing, kid, it's not your fault," Hank replied with the air of an exhausted parent.

"You should go help with the investigation; I'll be okay, really."

Hank let out a barking laugh. "Bullshit! You're gonna sneak out the back door the second I take my eyes off you." Connor's mouth twisted into a brief scowl, at which Hank rolled his eyes. "I'm staying right here until it's cool enough to get you back home."

"...Alright," Connor said after a brief pause. Hank was an extremely stubborn person, especially when it came to others' safety, and Connor didn't have the strength to pick a fight with him in his current state. With a grunt of oncoming age, Hank shifted off his knees into an actual sitting position, back against the wall near Connor's head and legs stretched out in front of him. The pair lapsed into silence for a few minutes, both mulling over their own thoughts.

"...You scared the hell outta me, you know," Hank eventually said, in a rare, quiet tone. Connor tilted his head back, essentially having to look at Hank upside-down because of the angle in which he laid. The detective was staring hard at the ground, refusing to meet Connor's eyes. "Just seeing you go down like that... I didn't know what the fuck was wrong with you."

"It was a system overload," Connor answered simply, "-caused by excessive heat." At that moment, a small ding in his right ear announced that his full-system scan was complete. The blue holographic display flashed in front of his eyes, causing him to smile. "There are no anomalies detected in any of my systems or biocomponents."

"Thank fucking god." Hank sounded relieved. "You hit that sidewalk pretty damn hard."

Connor slowly sat up, allowing his body to fully readjust to the reboot, and then maneuvered himself so that he leaned against the wall next to Hank. The detective glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, his expression difficult to read.

"Your heartbeat is slightly elevated," Connor said, cocking his head. "You still seem distressed, even though I've assured you that I'm fine; what's wrong?"

"I just told you, idiot." Hank gave Connor a light shove. Whether this was meant to be a gesture of camaraderie or annoyance was unclear. "It was really... disconcerting to see you just fucking drop like that. You're always so poised and proper..."

"Even if something did happen to me, I'll come back, remember?" Connor's mouth briefly flipped into a tight-lipped smile that he hoped was at least mildly reassuring. "I don't want to shut down, but if I do, my memory will be uploaded and CyberLife will send another Connor to take my place, just as before."

A grimace of unfiltered terror clouded Hank's face. Then, suddenly, he grabbed Connor by the front of his shirt and gave the android a light shake, speaking through clenched teeth. "Do not fucking think like that anymore, you hear me?!"

"Hank, what-?"

"Do you hear me, Connor?!"

The android nodded, LED flashing red, a tingling at the base of his neck signaling an unfamiliar emotion: fear. It wasn't a fear of Hank himself, for Connor knew that the detective would never truly harm him. It was fear of what could possibly be going on in Hank's mind to make him react this way. Connor understood that Hank had an issue with him "dying," even though it only occurred one time during their first few days together, when a deviant had gotten too stressed and put a bullet through Connor's forehead before shooting himself. However, Connor had been extremely careful to keep from losing his life during the rest of their investigation, mainly for Hank's sake.

Still, the true reality was that Connor's body could easily be replaced. He was a machine, after all, and part of his ability as a prototype was the capacity to upload his memory into a new version of himself to be deployed when the previous body failed.

“…You haven’t had any contact with CyberLife in a while, have you?” Hank said eventually, gently releasing Connor’s shirt. The android shook his head.

“No.” Connor blinked a few times, his LED settling to yellow. “Well, I’ve spoken to a CyberLife representative once during the early relocation efforts, but that was only to put the company in direct contact with Markus. I haven’t been in communication with them myself since the day androids gained freedom, when…”

Connor trailed off, locking gazes with Hank for a brief moment, who nodded in understanding. The android had confided in his friend about what happened that night on the platform when a remnant of his old programming nearly gained control of his system, and Hank had agreed to keep an eye out for “anomalies” ever since. Thankfully, up to that point nothing had been amiss; it seemed as though Connor’s deviancy had completely severed his connection with whoever or whatever was behind the detrimental Amanda program.

Hank heaved a sigh, pulling his legs towards his chest and resting his arms atop his knees.

“I went to CyberLife a few weeks after you started living with me,” he admitted. “I’d never had an android, especially one as… unique as you, so I wanted to make sure there wasn’t anything special you’d need to function. You didn’t come with the usual package of essentials when I took you in, y'know. When I told the guy I had an RK800 model, he gave me this funny look and said that…”

Hank trailed off, exhaustedly massaging the bridge of his nose before continuing. “He told me that on that night in November, about the time Markus was making his speech, all the RK800 models they had in storage just… deactivated.” Connor’s eyes widened, but he made no move to stop Hank’s recounting of events. “There were only nine of them, the guy said, and they were in standby mode just in case… you know. But they all suddenly stopped working at the same time and no one’s been able to activate them since.”

Connor remained silent for a long time, processing what Hank said. That would explain why he was no longer able to feel a connection with CyberLife. His virtual link had been through the next version of himself, and if that android was gone then there was nothing to keep him connected with whatever electronic storage bank kept his memory alive.

That dark tingle appeared at the base of Connor’s neck again as he understood the full ramification of Hank’s words.

“If I shut down now… there’s nowhere to upload my memory to,” the android said slowly, staring hard at the ground.

“Yeah,” Hank agreed with a grunt, trying to remain as emotionless as possible, though he was doing a bad job of it based on his increasing stress level. “So stop with that ‘I’ll always come back’ shit, okay? You’ve gotta take care of yourself from now on and not be so fucking reckless.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?” Connor questioned with a frown, mimicking Hank’s sitting position with arms resting atop his knees.

“You seemed… calmer, recently.” Hank made a vague hand gesture, as if searching for the words. “More… settled; I dunno. Less hell-bent on ‘accomplishing the mission’ while ignoring everything else.” The detective let out a snort, his mouth momentarily breaking into a half-smirk. “I didn’t expect you to take off like a fucking rocket and go after that perp earlier.”

“I thought I could catch her…” Connor sounded apologetic; he felt guilty about making Hank worry. He was also still mad at himself for yet again refusing to listen to what his own systems were telling him. Now, he could no longer afford to be so careless.

“Yeah, well, you didn’t, and it wasn’t worth the risk.” Hank reached over to give Connor a hard pat on the shoulder. “Just keep that in mind next time you decide to run off like a fucking idiot in hundred-degree weather.”

Connor nodded, still staring at the ground. It was a weird sensation to suddenly find out that he was no longer “immortal,” in the sense that if he died now, he was gone for good. Though this obviously wasn’t a good thing, in a way, it made him feel more… human.

“Hey,” Hank spoke up, placing his hand on Connor’s forearm. This time he left it there, gripping the android with tight sincerity. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you when I found out. I… I dunno why I didn’t. Guess I was scared of how you’d react- like you might have an existential crisis or something.”

Connor gave a tired sort of smile. “I don’t think I’ve been a deviant long enough for that sort of thought process.” He rested his hand over Hank’s and reciprocated the pressure. “But thank you. I understand that you were trying to protect me.”

“I guess.” With a roll of his eyes, Hank took his arm back. “Don’t start gettin' sappy; you know I hate that shit. You’re so fucking blunt.”

“Because you are so in denial about your emotions,” Connor responded without missing a beat, cracking a smile. “I’m trying to help you become a better person by allowing you the opportunity to understand your own feelings.”

“Fuck off, Connor, you just realized what ‘emotions’ were seven months ago!”

“Seven months and nine days, to be exact.”

“Whatever.”

Connor let out a small chuckle, and Hank did the same, catching the android’s eyes for a brief second before turning away and shaking his head. After a moment, Hank reached over and coarsely ruffled Connor’s hair, causing the android to blink rapidly in surprise. He’d never received that gesture of affection before.

“I’m gonna go check the temperature outside,” Hank announced, pushing himself off the ground. Connor followed suit, standing up as well, but Hank held up a hand signaling for him to stop. “Nuh-uh- you’re staying right here.”

“But Hank, I can detect the temperature within half a second at an accuracy of-”

Hank shoved his open palm closer into Connor’s face, effectively cutting him off.

“Stay.”

Connor knew he didn’t have to listen. Hank was not his owner, and there was no reason for Connor to obey any commands the detective gave. However, as Hank walked through the back door, pausing before he opened it to make sure that he wasn’t being followed by a curious android, Connor felt no need to go against him.

It wasn’t really an order, anyway; it was more of a request intended to keep Connor safe, the sort of thing a parent would tell a child so they wouldn’t get hurt. Hank thought he knew the best course of action to keep Connor from harm, so he acted based on that personal judgment.

And Connor was finally starting to believe that Hank might, sometimes, be right.

This Oneshot is part of a series that takes place during the Post-Pacifist Ending of Detroit: Become Human.

Read Reunited. 

Read Family.

Read Health.

Read Heatstroke. (You are here.)

Read Fear.

Read Nightmare.

Read Forgiveness.

Read MEMORY_CORRUPTED [Part 1/4].

Read MEMORY_RESET [Part 2/4].

Read MEMORY_RECONSTRUCTING [Part 3/4].

[paleorecipecookbook]

Life Expectancy in the U.S.: Why the Numbers Are Falling

As you’d imagine, year-over-year gains in this calculation are the goal and are indicative of a healthy society. Stagnations are cause for concern, while declines are, to put it mildly, alarming. Falling national numbers can signal the deterioration of a country’s healthcare infrastructure, especially in the quality of healthcare services it provides its citizens.

To my mind, this is exactly what’s happening in America today. Although life expectancy in the U.S. was on an upward march for decades, preliminary data for 2017 suggests the average lifespan in the United States dropped for the third year in a row. The only other time life expectancy decreased three consecutive years was in the late 1910s, and that was due to the worst flu outbreak in recorded history.

So why is it on the decline today, 100 years later? Because chronic disease is now the biggest threat to our longevity, and because conventional medicine has failed to slow this epidemic. But there is good news: a Functional Medicine approach to health and healthcare, influenced by an ancestral perspective, can turn the tide.

The last time life expectancy in the U.S. fell for the third consecutive year, it was due to the worst flu outbreak in recorded history. Why are the numbers falling today? Check out this article to find out. #healthylifestyle #functionalmedicine #kresserinstitute

What the Latest Statistics Say about Life Expectancy in the U.S.

Based on early data from the National Center for Health Statistics, the U.S. death rate is up and life expectancy is down—again. The disturbing trend began in 2015, when the average overall life expectancy in the U.S. dropped from 78.9 years of age to 78.7. In 2016, it fell to 78.6. (1, 2, 3)

Before you dismiss the decrease as small and insignificant, consider this: the United States now has the lowest life expectancy levels among high-income developed countries, including Western Europe, Australia, and Japan. To illustrate the gravity further, if somehow we could freeze the life expectancy calculations in these other countries and increase our numbers at the rate we did pre-2015 when the downward slide began, it would take American men 16 years just to match the average of the other populations. American women would need a whopping 18 years. (4)

But let’s get back to why statisticians predict a continued downturn. In addition to increases in deaths from “diseases of despair” (drug abuse, fueled largely by opioids, alcoholism, and suicide), they’re seeing significant, even dramatic, increases in death from chronic diseases, including:

Heart disease (still the leading cause of death in the United States)

Stroke

Alzheimer’s disease

Diabetes

Seven of the current top 10 causes of death are chronic diseases. The same stat applies to number of deaths as well: chronic disease is responsible for seven out of 10 deaths each year.

It now appears the onset of chronic illness is earlier than it once was, and chronic disease is even on the rise in children, with the rate doubling between 1994 and 2006. (Sadly, there has been a sharp increase in the number of kids and teens diagnosed with type 2 diabetes, once rare among children—probably due to the rise in obesity among this group.)  (5, 6, 7, 8, 9)

Chronic Disease: The Country’s Big Challenge

We didn’t just arrive at a three-year slump overnight.

A major 2014 study sounded the alarm bells. (10) It pointed out that not only was chronic disease on the rise, but so too was the number of older Americans living with multiple chronic conditions—a shocking four out of five people. It also showed that the more ailments a person has after retirement age, the shorter their lifespan and the nation’s overall lifespan.

Researchers determined that, on average, a person’s life expectancy at age 67 decreases 1.8 years for each additional chronic disease they have, ranging from 0.4 fewer years with the first condition up to 2.6 fewer years with the sixth diagnosis. They also found that the outlook is much worse for those with certain diseases, especially Alzheimer’s, incidences of which are only climbing. According to the study’s lead author:

The balancing act needed to care for all of those conditions is complicated ... Our system is not set up to care for people with so many different illnesses … It is becoming very clear that preventing the development of additional chronic conditions in the elderly could be the only way to continue to improve life expectancy. (11)

I have to guess that many people didn’t hear the red alert go off when this study was released because the conventional approach to medicine remains deeply anchored in this country—and millions of patients believe this approach to healthcare is effectively treating their chronic disease.

It’s not.

There’s a Simple Answer—for You and the Nation

What these researchers said in 2014 is what I’ve been saying for years: conventional medicine can’t and will never solve chronic disease. We need to do things differently.

And here’s another compelling fact to motivate us all: while overall life expectancy is an important measure of a nation’s well-being, it’s only one assessment. The study findings shared here highlight the fact that we’re not just living shorter lives; we’re also living sicker lives. Of the 78 years we can expect to live, most of us only get to enjoy 67.7 of them free of illness and disability. In Europe, this statistic is called Healthy Life Years, or HLY. America’s HLY number has only risen 2.4 years since 1990. (12, 13)

Here’s where Functional Medicine comes in. It’s the answer to increasing both our overall life expectancy and our HLY expectancy. But to understand why it works, you first need to understand the main reasons why the current model is failing us all.

Why Conventional Medicine Can’t Heal Chronic Disease

Big Reason 1. It’s the Wrong Medical Paradigm

Conventional medicine evolved during a time when acute (sudden onset, as opposed to slow-developing) infectious diseases were the leading causes of death, like a deadly flu outbreak. Most other problems that brought people to the doctor were also acute, like appendicitis. Treatment in these cases was relatively simple: the patient developed pneumonia, went to see the doctor, received an antibiotic (once they were invented), and either got well or died. One problem, one doctor, one treatment.

As we’ve established, things today aren’t that straightforward. The average patient sees the doctor for one or more chronic issues, which are difficult to manage, expensive to treat, require more than one physician, and typically last a lifetime. They don’t lend themselves to the “one problem, one doctor, one treatment” approach of the past.

It’s the application of the conventional medical paradigm to the modern problem of chronic disease that’s gotten us into our current conundrum. It’s led to a system that emphasizes suppressing symptoms with drugs (and sometimes surgery and an endless cycle of “procedures”), rather than addressing the underlying cause of illness.

This is not the way to reverse or prevent chronic disease, more than 85 percent of which is caused by environmental factors like diet, behavior, and lifestyle. (14) More specifically, chronic disease is the direct result of a mismatch between our genes and biology on one hand and the modern environment on the other.

Big Reason 2. It’s the Wrong Delivery Model

How care is delivered is also a huge problem. The system isn’t structured to support the most important interventions.

As I mentioned above, the primary causes of the chronic disease epidemic are not genetic, but behavioral. It boils down to people making the wrong choices about diet, physical activity, sleep, etc.—over and over again, throughout a lifetime. In fact, a recent Harvard study found that successfully implementing just five healthy habits (eating a healthy diet, exercising regularly, maintaining a healthy body weight, moderate alcohol intake, and not smoking) could add up to 14 years to your life. (15, 16)

This makes it clear that one of the most important roles healthcare providers should play is supporting people in making positive behavior changes. Unfortunately, the conventional medical system undermines this, making it extremely difficult, if not impossible.

The average patient visit with a primary care provider lasts 10 to 12 minutes, which barely leaves a doctor time to prescribe a drug for any new symptoms a patient presents with, much less an in-depth discussion of diet and lifestyle factors that might be contributing. (17)

As a result, 87 percent of doctors agree the healthcare profession is in decline, while 82 percent of physicians believe they have little ability to change the current system. (18) These are just a few reasons why burnout is so common in the healthcare field.

Why Functional Medicine Is the Answer

I hope this article serves as a gentle shake to conventional practitioners, and to you (as their potential patient) as well, because there is a better way, and things can change—they already are. Hundreds of clinics across the country (including my own, the California Center for Functional Medicine) have begun to implement a Functional Medicine model, which works for addressing chronic disease. Here’s why.

Big Reason 1. It Makes Room for Longer Medical Visits

More time allows doctors the chance to uncover and then address the root cause of a patient’s symptoms, as well as discuss prevention strategies. This is how health and healing happen.

Big Reason 2. It Emphasizes Collaborative Care

In Functional Medicine, the doctor–patient relationship is a partnership. What’s more, patients have access to a collaborative care team, which includes nurse practitioners, nutritionists, health coaches, and others. The team provides another layer of care between appointments.

This is just the beginning of a long list of reasons. For more, check out my book, Unconventional Medicine.

How Do You Live—and Help Others Live—a Longer, Better Life?

If you’re in healthcare, make the switch to Functional Medicine. And if you’re not yet in the field but want to be part of the revolution, now’s the time to consider becoming a health coach.

If you’re a patient, seek out Functional Medicine practitioners, preferably a team that looks at health through an evolutionary lens. Together, Functional Medicine and ancestral wisdom are unstoppable at slowing the chronic disease epidemic, as they address the mismatch between our genes and current environment (the cause of modern disease) by encouraging the time-tested healthy lifestyle choices noted above. Although eating a nutrient-dense ancestral diet and exercising seem like simple mandates, they can be difficult to follow through on without the proper support. Functional Medicine is the support you need.

As the latest science shows, there’s no biological cap to human longevity. (19, 20) Let that sink in. We don’t have to accept living shorter, unhealthier lives.

Now, I’d like to hear from you. What you do think about the latest life expectancy statistics? Let me know in the comments below!

The post Life Expectancy in the U.S.: Why the Numbers Are Falling appeared first on Chris Kresser.

Source: http://chriskresser.com December 21, 2018 at 12:06AM