#this was meant to be simpler but i guess the method changed after i tried correcting stuff | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tooft · 3 years ago

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It isn't surprising that death hides itself behind the countless names we have created for it. Few like to think about their supposed end, and so those that have died will be spoken of in hushed tones, described as having passed on, or more commonly, that they are resting, at peace as they sleep beneath the earth. Eternal rest from the calamity and chaos that is living, with many choosing to think that it is a welcome respite from the world that is constantly changing and shifting. In a way, they're not fully incorrect, but their reasoning for why the dead rest so soundly is not quite right either.

See, what people don't know (or the living ones at least), is that death is utterly and exasperatingly exhausting.

To be dead is to be tired, adrift in a haze as you struggle to keep your spirit, soul, whatever it is, from fading too much. Without the energy that comes with having a physical vessel, the dead are perpetually on the edge of burnout, with newly deceased barely able to handle a few hours at a time. It does get easier as one adjusts to the afterlife, able to stay up for weeks or even months, but the desire to just drift off into blissful unconsciousness never eases up. It just is a matter of building up one's ability to resist it.

Most can't be bothered, and I can't say I blame them. Unless someone was murdered, or has some other form of dramatic, unfinished business there's little reason to stay aware of the passage of time at all. The mortal world has little impact on that of the dead, and most are content to just catch up on any important events that happened during their rest the next time they're able to shake off sleep.

I suppose that the dead being buried in cemeteries both helps and hinders the eternal rest that so many choose to turn to. A comfortable place to sleep is hard to pass up, especially when it's conveniently arranged so that there's little interaction with the more rowdy aspects of living society. Definitely makes it harder to motivate themselves to get up, but then when they've been dead long enough to see the world they lived in disappear into modern day society then there's little reason to hang around. So, they rest, deep within the earth where few can bother them. And the few that do... well that's why I'm around.

Now, given what I've just told you, it might sound like a contradiction when I say that I am the barrier between the living and the dead. Surely a job like that is difficult to accomplish when one spends their days struggling to resist a rather comfortable nap in the dirt. Still, it's true. Anyone trying to start trouble in my cemetery will have to go through me first, and I've yet to find the desire to sleep stronger than my desire to protect those under my care.

There is a reason I'm awake, beyond my overprotectiveness of my charges of course, and that is that this cemetery also happens to be where I died. It was rather dramatic, an ill-planned tryst with a lover that got a bit too stabby near the end. Guess I should have known that any relationship involving a person who wants to meet in a cemetery in the dead of night was not going to end well. I did get over it eventually, once the first few decades had past and I was able to think beyond my anger and exhaustion. Even then I didn't need to sleep as often as those who had been dead far longer than I, though I didn't understand why until one of the older spirits awoke for long enough to explain it to me.

Your site of death has power, one stronger than almost any other force I've come across. It's a gateway between you and the life you once had, a literal crossroad that you passed over to reach the inevitable end. Even if you're body no longer inhabits it, your death site holds the memory of who you once were, and with that comes a well of power and energy that fuels those still close enough to access it. So, unlike everyone else here, I am able to stay up for years before I need to rest, and even then it's only for a few hours.

So, given that I had ample time to do things, and my only friends were asleep 90% of the time, I decided that I would need to find my own ways to entertain myself. You would not believe how many games of solitaire I have played here. I like to think that all that time was useful, but I still somehow suck at that game. I find my other job a lot more productive, even if it doesn't happen all that often.

See, I work to scare the shit out of the living.

Not all of them of course, not even most of those that come to visit. Many are just here to see those long gone from their lives, to reminisce and honor the dead who sleep below them. Bothering them would be a waste of time, not to mention rude, and if I tried scaring off every single person who came through those gates I would not have enough energy to even speak with you now. No, my targets are those that come with hopes of bothering the dead, though they might not know that's what they're doing at the time.

The living tend to have respect for the dead, but not everyone does. Mainly kids, teenagers who are bored and angry with the world, or just those that think the remote nature of a cemetery means that no one will be bothered by something that their doing. They arrive and cause whatever ruckus they're seeking out, and oftentimes waking up a lot of people who have more than earned a peaceful rest.

Some are easier to deal with than others. I like the ones that come with their boards and pendants, rituals to speak to those that can barely keep their eyes open. They're easy to mess with, you just need to knock over a couple of things and poke the planchette around enough to get the threat of retribution across. Maybe throw in a few whispered words and far off cackles to be caught by the wind that just so happens to creep into their heads. They tend to leave in a hurry, to which I say good riddance. They're better off trying to talk to some pissed off spirit or poltergeist in a house somewhere, those that want to talk and oftentimes rarely stop doing so once you get them started.

Others are... interesting to say the least. While annoying, at least most of those trying to communicate with us are respectful about it. Those who just come to a cemetery to raise hell or to have a seemingly empty location to perform acts away from living eyes are quite different in that regard. If they do acknowledge us, it's in passing, and more than often with laughter as they taunt the scary ghosts that apparently "haunt" this location. It's all rather rude if you ask me, especially since if anyone's haunting somewhere they're not meant to be it's them. I'm a bit less creative when it comes to bothering these types of folk, I prefer to just make my presence impossible to ignore. You know those times when it feels like the air itself is pressing down on you, to the point where it's hard to breathe? While often that's just anxiety, it could also be that you managed to piss off some spirit or another, and that just happens to be the best way for them to tell you to leave.

It doesn't always work, of course. The living can be remarkably dense to the desires of the dead, even when they claim to know what we would have wanted were we still alive. They just ignore whatever signals I'm sending them, going about their business as if a cemetery isn't a place of peace. That's when I have to get a bit more aggressive.

It's a lot of work showing ourselves to the living. Even if you died in the place you're occupying in death, it can take a lot out of you to physically manifest yourself in such a way that the living can see you at all. I try to stick to more simpler methods, pushing or throwing objects or even telling them to leave. But some just don't want to listen, even when I know they're scared, they act as though they have a right to be there. So, physical manifestation becomes a lot more appealing.

Even those who take pride in their bravery find it more than a bit unsettling when a young woman dripping with blood rushes them from the shadows of the trees, screaming bloody murder. If they don't take off immediately, cackling maniacally as I wield the knife my lover left me tends to do the trick. I've yet to meet anyone whose stuck around after that, though it does tend to result in the police having to make sure that there isn't an actual murderer roaming the gravestones. I don't mind though, especially since it seems the police are getting used to such reports and don't stay long. Plus I'm usually asleep long before they arrive, since such matters are rather tiring.

It's a job I enjoy, and a job that's necessary for those who live (or "live") here. With that said, it is a lonely occupation. Any friends I've made are more often than not using their eternity to dream, which I don't mind, but it does make it harder to drift alone day after day. I've learned everything there is to know about this place, every tree and every stone. I love it more than anything, but the monotony does take its toll.

You, however, are certainly a break from the usual.

Don't get me wrong, I would have much preferred if we weren't having this conversation at all, given that doing so confirms the awful truth of the matter. But it's not like there's anything we can do to change it now. I do apologize for not intervening, but I had thought the two of you were just another pair that had come to pay their respects. By the time I saw the gun, there was little I could do to help you.

If it helps at all, they should find your body fairly quickly once someone does arrive. Hard to miss the bloodstains when they are such a contrast to the snowy winter landscape. What are the odds that another person would be murdered here? I appreciate you letting me blather on like this, it's so rare I get to talk to someone new. Usually anyone arriving here is asleep for a good few years, and even then we haven't had anyone new since the last plot was filled ten years ago. But then, I shouldn't keep you awake any longer.

I'm honestly impressed that you're still conscious, not many people tend to be at this point. I hope I've answered any of the urgent questions you might have. The rest can wait until after you've slept. There's a few places I'd highly recommend for napping, I'll take you to my favorite now! It's just over the hill there, can you walk? Wonderful, right this way.

I'm sure everyone will be happy to meet you, whenever that ends up happening. Not like we don't have time for that in any case. I do hope you like it here, moving resting spots can be a bit of a nightmare. Lots of energy needed, though I guess you could just follow your body if you truly wanted. I'll keep an eye out for anyone nearby who might be able to help. Whatever happens next, I'm sure it will be interesting if nothing else.

Sleep well, for you are among friends, my dear.

Goodnight.

#my writing #response to a prompt #short story #ghost story #technically anyways #haunting is a subjective term #writing #story

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curserp · 4 years ago

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first of all, i just want to say i loved seeing all the thoughts and theories that were going on around all of this !!! honestly, i think some of you guys gave me too much credit, because most of this is a lot simpler than the intricate stuff you came up with--- i wish i had thought of some of the things you all did ! but for now, finally, here’s ( most of ) the clues i purposefully placed, as well as some general info, which i’ve tried to break up into sections for ease of reading.

SKELETONS / NUMBERS :

the skeletons are listed below with their id numbers ( the tags are linked as well ) :

andromeda : #0237632.

arachne : #0272463.

cassandra : #0276372.

daedalus : #0323357.

helen : #0043536.

heracles : #0472537.

jason : #0052766.

medea : #0063332.

midas : #0064327.

narcissus : #0672787.

orion : #0067466.

pandora : #0726372.

paris : #0072747.

perseus : #0777387.

each of the id numbers were decided by entering the skeleton names onto the dial pad of a phone--- abc = 2, def = e, ghi = 4, jkl = 5, mno = 6, pqrs = 7, tuv = 8, wyz = 9.

phones in general were hinted at a few times.

in asks, as i tried to use the word ‘call’ repeatedly when asked about it, ‘key’ once, as well as the word ‘phony’ at one point. get it ? phone-y ? that one was kind of a stretch, i know.

a phone prominently featured in a branch on the classification quiz.

the encoded text messages were, obviously, sent from a phone.

on an update before dropping stage 3, a strange voicemail was mentioned and you were encouraged to delete it from your phone.

the database speaks to you over the phone during curse finalization.

on the graphic for stage 3, a phone is the only object in the hallway.

some names did need to be shortened in order to fit all the same number of digits, so andromeda became adrmda, pandora became pandra, etc.

honestly, this code was weirder and more random than most of the other things, so i’d call it bonus points more than anything else. a lot of you puzzled out who was who without knowing what the numbers meant.

CURSE REGISTRATION / STAGE I ( here ) :

i asked you all to send in these results to the curse database, and used those totals to decide the order in which the skeletons would be released ; midas ended up with the most results so they’re posted first, cassandra got the least so they’re last, etc.

results from all three stages will also factor in to some future plot drops, though i’ll keep those quiet for now.

TEXT POSTS :

these are pretty straightforward ; i chose text that i thought suits each skeleton as i’ve written them, and tagged them with their respective curse ids to tease the fact that there were ids at all.

FOLDERS PAGE ( here ) :

this displays not only the skeletons’ classifications, but also their active danger levels ; one exclamation point for low, two for medium, three for high.

while the classifications were shown as only numbers 001-007 at that point, since the curse classification blog hadn’t dropped yet, in this ask a few posts previous i wrote the types as the first word of each corresponding number on the list.

CURSE CLASSIFICATION / STAGE II ( here ) :

when you reach a result on the curse classifications, the clock at the top of the screen stops and displays a single time. that number corresponds to the number on the files image. when you get an error it shows only zeroes.

the classifications are :

chaos ( pandora, paris )

death ( arachne )

hero ( heracles, jason, perseus )

infamy ( cassandra, midas )

loss ( daedalus, medea )

love ( helen, narcissus, orion )

monster ( andromeda )

yes, those are alphabetical. when i was making the folders page i just kinda said fuck it.

i took the hands off the clock on the image in the post, both because i wanted to draw attention to the clocks on the actual pages, and cause it looked sick.

if you get to page /c6, the clock stops and zeroes out. that’s because there’s no way to get anything but an error after that point.

i asked you all to send in these results to the curse database, too, and they were used as tiebreakers for the skeleton posting order. like, medea and pandora ended up with the same amount of results from registration, but there were more loss results than chaos from classification, so medea goes first.

TEXT MESSAGES ( here, here, here, here, here, here, and here ) :

the encryption on the text messages is caesar cipher, where you shift the alphabet a certain number of letters over and substitute those letters for each other. for example, an alphabet with a shift of 1 would have a become b, b become c, and so on. the shift changes for each text message, depending on what the character’s curse classification is. so the text from narcissus ( #0672787, classification of 6. love ) has a shift of 6.

the decoded texts are :

#0063332. ( medea, shift 5 ) : you made your choice. now i am making mine.

#0672787. ( narcissus, shift 6 ) : at least you’ll be hung in the stars. i’ll only be remembered like a cautionary tale.

#0072747. ( paris, shift 1 ) : don’t blame me, please. i am not the villain.

#0272463. ( arachne, shift 2 ) : did you make this for yourself, too ?

#0472537. ( heracles, shift 3 ) : wasn’t my strength meant to earn me a better reward than this ?

#0237632. ( andromeda, shift 7 ) : you cannot be a hero all the time. what if my monster wins ?

#0064327. ( midas, shift 4 ) : i could have known better, at least. nothing this gold could come without consequence.

i also wanted to use this to kind of further their feeling of being watched ---which i hope i started to get across just in some answers to anons ---with the messages between skeletons be ‘intercepted’ by the database.

CURSE FINALIZATION / STAGE III ( here ) :

before dropping this stage, a ‘data breach’ was mentioned twice in separate posts. this was to ( hopefully ) encourage people to look for hidden information--- aka, the data that was breached.

there are five total hidden pages on this stage, and one secret extra message.

first is another intercepted message from one of the skeletons. the link is here.

on page /b2, click the word ‘key’ to get here.

the text message is from #0276372, aka cassandra, who is prophetic. cassandra is the only skeleton with anything set about their curse, and their prophecies will be a part of gameplay.

the url for this page is 0677437, and if you use the same keypad method as the numbers for the skeletons, that translates to ‘mssges.’

second is a chart monitoring active danger levels. the link is here.

on page /b3, the clock has stopped at 00:00:14, for the 14 skeletons. if you wait those 14 seconds, you will automatically be redirected.

the url for this page is 0003282, or ‘data.’

the third is a contact log between the database and a god. the link is here.

on page /c2, a ‘source’ is mentioned. if you view the source code of the page, the first thing at the top is the url.

the clock on this page has stopped at 02:09:01, and the connection was lost at that same time ; if you substitute letters in for numbers, 291 spells ‘bia’, the goddess of violence, who the communication was with.

the url for this page is 0005647, or ‘logs.’

the fourth is an incident report from a monster attack. the link is here.

on page /c7, ‘time’ is mentioned repeatedly. click on the clock to get here.

the incident report is 8-1-18-16-25, which, with a substitution between numbers and letters, translates out to ‘harpy,’ the type of creature from the attack.

the url for this page is 0737678, or ‘report.’

the fifth is the list of id numbers and their skeletons. the link is here.

on this ask, i asked ( yes, i sent this one to myself ) about the numbers, and responded ‘why haven’t you searched.’ put /numbers directly after the url of curse finalization to get here.

if you highlight above the ‘submitting’ text on the /finalize page, you can find a message : ‘you’re not safe here.’

the codes you all reached are going to remain kind of a mystery for now. there is a solution for it, if you’re really interested in puzzling it out, but i’m not going to list the answer here. they’ve helped me decide the first plot drop of the group. this is somewhat of a teaser for how the gameplay will go here ; the curse database will remain an active player, and you’ll often be helping choose events. you just might not always when you’re doing it, or how.

easter eggs / fun facts, i guess !

when you get an error in curse registration or classification, if you hover your mouse over the word ‘error,’ it shakes like a glitch. this serves no purpose and means nothing, it just took me a while to figure out how to code, so i wanted to point it out. just let me have this

i actually had a very different stage three planned when i dropped stage two, one incorporating the results from registration and classification more, but the classification results i got were totally different than what i’d expected. while the registration results were pretty varied, over half of the 40-something answers i got from your classifications were for ‘love,’ and i actually got only one ‘monster’ and zero ‘death’ results from you guys. which i suppose is fitting, since there’s only one skeleton of each ! but still, it threw things off a bit, and i had to pretty thoroughly rework stage three. besides, i ended up with like 100+ results from both stages, and i got kind of overwhelmed with my original idea. you all kept me on my toes !!

i sent two asks to myself : the one i needed to set up so i could list out the curse classifications, the one to drop a hint about the /numbers page. the rest all came from you guys ! and for that i am hugely grateful--- i had sort of escape plans the entire time if there wasn’t enough interest, where i’d be able to drop the main after stage one or two and skirt around the extras, but i’m so glad i got to follow through on this thing to the end. i wouldn’t have been able to do it without your engagement. every single time i get a little inbox notification i get excited.

i noticed some of you were getting a lot of error results, but that’s not on you ! there were 32 possible results on curse registration with 16 of those being errors, and 15 results on curse classification with 8 of those being errors. so don’t worry, you were more likely on those stages to get an error than a result.

some of you wondered if the general urls ( /a1, /b2, etc. ) of the different pages on the registration, classification and finalization blogs meant something, and i’m sorry to say they don’t. originally i was going to customize them so they’d be harder to just sift through later, but there ended up being 130+ total pages between all three blogs--- and for my own sanity, and for the sake of easier organization when editing them, i just left them as they were with their letters and numbers.

someone asked me if this post was for cassandra since the quote involves cassandra in the source material agamemnon. whoops. it’s not, that post is actually just a nod to the fact that i don’t know how to read.

i think that’s just about everything ! there are all kinds of other small things as nods to skeletons, the plot, the database in general, future plot drops, all scattered throughout answers on the curse database--- and i’ll be here all day if i list them all. if you have any specific questions about anything i would love to answer them, so please feel free to shoot them my way ! i believe that’s the gist of it, though. thanks so much again for going along with me on all of this !!

#curseadmin #cursetalk #this is so long i'm sorry #but i think i covered everything !!!!

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evien-stark · 5 years ago

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✧I Need You✧ Chapter 84

Eventually realizing that Coulson ignoring your calls meant he was too busy to get back to you, you had to resort to other methods of finding a SHIELD employed therapist to snatch up. ...assuming there was one. But there had to be. Or you hoped there was, otherwise all this time delaying waiting for Coulson had just been a waste. Fury was out, of course. Preferring not to speak to Nick unless absolutely necessary. That was the way your relationship with him worked best. You were sure he’d agree. You were also sure he wouldn’t totally approve of you trying to steal someone under his employ.

It was one of the first afternoons in April that you found Nat and Clint sitting at the Avenger’s Mess-hall kitchen table, eating sandwiches, talking and laughing amongst themselves, that you decided it was time to stop waiting and time to start making moves. And, you also decided, in the effort of not wasting any more time…

“Hey, does SHIELD have therapists?” Asked as you pulled up a chair. Getting right to the point.

They both looked at each other and then back at you. Nat arched her brow. “I don’t know if we’d call them therapists by… regular standards. What we have are more… field evaluation mediators.”

Tipping your head, “Meaning?”

Clint slung an arm over the back of his chair. “Meaning they’re the people in between you and going back to work, once you get off a particularly…” Hanging on the end of the word as he thought.

Nat helped, “Messy mission. You know. Lots of people put in the ground. That sort of thing. After that, before your next mission, you have to sit down with one of those people to evaluate your mental state.”

“They’re the worst.” Clearly Clint was not a fan. “Why do you want to know, anyway?”

“I’m trying to get a therapist for the Avengers.” And at that, Nat and Clint shared a side-eye with one another before making an effort not to burst out into laughter. But there was laughter. “I’m serious!” Feeling frustrated. And perhaps embarrassed. “I don’t think I can just get someone off the street for the shit we’ve been through- even if you guys don’t like the idea- I would like one. And I think some of us would benefit from having someone qualified to talk to, too.” Taking one for the team, practicing what you were trying to preach. So on and so forth. Hoping if you came out and just said it, everyone else would feel more confident about it.

Clint took a bite of his sandwich, shaking his head. Mouth half full, “You mean Tony. Right?”

“I mean all of us.” Immediately not okay with the idea of them piling on him. Sure… even he had said it himself a while back. He was a piping hot mess. But so was everyone else. You were sure of it. “Aliens came to New York. I don’t know about you guys, but that’s not normal. And I’d like to start trying to unpack all of it.”

“What’s there to unpack?” Clint seemed hard pressed to give in to this idea.

“Something beyond our understanding tried to take over earth. And there’s probably more where that came from. There were- I don’t fucking know- armored space whales and tech I’ve never seen before- and we killed like- a lot of them without thinking about it- and I’d like to talk to someone about it.” It all sort of just came out of you, as you assumed it might.

“You’re talking right now. Don’t you feel better already?” Clint, grinning at you.

Nat put a hand on his arm, silencing him. Perhaps sensing his humor wasn’t going to help the situation. “I think I know someone. You want me to set up a meeting?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

----

Deja, the therapist’s name was. “Vu, I assume.” Tony had said the night previous, while the two of you lingered around the edge’s of sleep, wrapped in each other’s arms. Making jokes to ease his own discomfort. He’d promised he’d see a therapist. Now you had one- provided everything went okay. So… he had to go.

“Linit, actually.” You’d corrected him, and tried to soothe him. You guessed it was normal to be nervous. You were sort of nervous too. But this was good… right?

Of course you’d prepared just about a mountain of paperwork for her to get through, and secured her her own private office- just in case this was a permanent thing. Maybe it would be. Maybe it wouldn’t. But before you could even get down to making sure she was a good fit, she had just about a hundred NDAs to sign. Because maybe this was foolish. Maybe superheroes were just meant to suffer.

Because trusting a stranger to listen to all their problems, all their secrets… that was foolish, wasn’t it? What if she decided an NDA and whatever salary you were going to pay her wasn’t enough? What if she went to the press? Wrote a book? Exposed every little thing you or any of the other Avengers told her in confidence? How could you be so sure that she wouldn’t? Even if she was legally not allowed to do that… had that stopped people before?

But Nat had recommended her- and wasn’t this the reason you’d went with a SHIELD employee? To assuage these fears? So with all that in mind- and all the paperwork signed in triplicate…

You tried to ignore everyone else hovering about nervously as you sat down in her office- door open. This wasn’t a session. It was more an introduction. You just weren’t in the right state of mind to make a good impression, unfortunately. Where you perhaps should have handled this with more care, your Stark Industries business sense was driving your motion. Your thoughts.

“Thanks for agreeing to meet- and signing all those papers. Let me just start off by asking what you hope to get out of this?” Wrong. Wrong wrong wrong. You were not welcoming her into your proverbial home. You were probably going to scare her away. But, at the same time, she wasn’t the last resort. And maybe she wasn’t a good fit. You couldn’t let yourself just get comfortable yet.

She seemed to take it in stride, smiling. “The same thing as you, hopefully. But let me be frank, and just between us… I’m happy to get picked up from SHIELD. I went there thinking I was going to make a difference. But signing off on soldiers’ mental states just so they can go back out into the field… that’s not why I wanted to become a psychologist.”

Was she being too open? Divulging too much to lull you into a false sense of security? Saying exactly what you wanted to hear so that you’d give in and tell her all your secrets?

Or perhaps you were being too paranoid. And perhaps she was just trying to be frank, honest, and open about her desires. What had led her here, to you. Genuinely happy for a turn of events. ....hard to say which was the truth. Or was it?

Maybe this was the perfect time to utilize a little sense. So you focused in on her. Just a little. Was she being honest? ...sure seemed like it… sure… felt like it… but maybe this, too, was an act. After all, even if Tony had obliterated your files with SHIELD, surely they had rebuilt them by now. Had them hidden on some secret server. Maybe she knew all about you, and knew just what to do to try and fool you-

“You seem hesitant.” Said after a lengthy pause of your own. Too in your head. “I understand the process of finding the right person for a position this… delicate must be challenging.”

“Delicate is putting it mildly. I’m sure you’ve seen the news, and considering your employer, you know who you’d potentially be dealing with. Let me just ask, do you think you could help them?” Them including you of course, but that didn’t need to be said right now. Just trying to be the intermediary for your team. You wanted the best for them…

“That’s a loaded question. I could smile at you and say yes, sign more paperwork and take a check. Come in every week and listen and try my best- but it isn’t that simple. And… I suspect you understand that. Every person is going to approach my services differently. Let’s start here- what do you want out of therapy?”

What you wanted? -or, simpler put, what was the point of this? Why, everyone else aside, were you trying to hire someone to help you? What kind of help did you want? What did you want to accomplish?

Fanning your hands out over your pants, you realized you were fidgeting. Just a little. Was it your anxiety you wanted to work on? Your jumbled thoughts? Your… “I need someone to help me process all of this. I… need help unpacking all of it. My life wasn’t like this, even just six years ago. And I need help… adjusting.” Everything had happened in so short a time. Tony had gotten kidnapped. Tony had come back. You’d fallen helplessly in love. People kept trying to kill one or the both of you. The world had changed. There were superheroes and aliens and gods.

How was a person supposed to deal with all of that?

Deja went quiet for a moment a little too long- long enough to make you uncomfortable, in your vulnerability. She put her hands together. Her smile was delicate. “Therapy isn’t a one-and-done. I can sit here. And I can listen. And I can try to help you put things in order, to prioritize, to make sense. But part of the work is on you, too. Do you think you’re ready?”

Ready? Ready for what? To make changes? To unpack? Unload? Try and make sense of it all? “I’ll get less ready to more I keep putting it off- and- I want to emphasize. This isn’t just about me.”

“I understand that. But you can’t force them to sit here and try and help themselves any more than I can. If they want to sit down, I’ll focus on them when they’re ready. But while I’m speaking to you, I want to get a sense of what we can accomplish together.”

“Are you scared of any of them?” You had no idea why that had come out of you so suddenly. Maybe in an attempt to cover up your own insecurities while she was reading you so openly and trying to get you to commit to plans. You were dodging her.

Such a good sign that you needed help, right?

“Are you?” She looked over you, casting a serious glance over the rim of her glasses.

“No.” But you worked with them. Knew them intimately. Loved them. They were part of your family now.

“Then why ask me?” Calling you out.

“This job will no doubt be tougher than the ones you did for SHIELD, regardless of if you liked those ones or not. I’m just… trying to get a sense of things.” Sort of lying, but sort of not.

“I’m not afraid of a challenge. ...Banner makes me a little nervous. If you want my honesty. But clearly he has a handle on… everything. I think I’ll be fine.” Her blunt honesty made you feel a little better, somehow. “And, listen… I’m no stranger to my clients being distrustful. I think it tends to go hand in hand with the locales. But this can’t work unless you do trust me, and decide you can be open with me. I’m willing to come as long as it takes until you get there. As long as you think you will. Eventually.”

You understood what she was saying. Trying to impart that she didn’t want this to be a waste of her time any more than you wanted to waste yours. Were you willing to put in the work? Were you willing to let your guard down? Were you willing to be open and honest? ...that was the whole point of this, right? What were you looking for therapists for the Avengers in the first place, if not for all that? But maybe it had been easier just trying to do the scouting and not… thinking about what it all actually meant, had it ever come together.

“What I know is…” You took a deep breath. Deciding… deciding it was time, now, to start trying. “I haven’t been doing well. I’m not a complete mess, I can go about my life. I can work. I can get things done. But a few months ago, I was having meltdowns of slightly epic proportions. I can’t continue to live like that.” Not just for you, but for the consequences it unearthed for the innocent people around you. “And I just have the feeling that my life is going to get harder, the longer we- ...the longer the Avengers are a thing.”

Her eyes drifted low, seemingly in thought. Her hands folded together again, and she sat back. “Do you envision a time when the Avengers aren’t a thing?”

“I don’t know. It seems impossible right now. Like we might be doing this forever. Because threats don’t just disappear.”

“Do you want to do it forever?”

The question stopped you cold. You’d been thinking about this, a little frantically and disjointedly, a few separate times. Was this your life forever now? Was there a future outside of this? What about you and Tony? What sort of future could you have as a couple if crazy world-ending shit was happening all the time? Or kidnappings and attempted murder?

“No.”

The answer hurt you. Surprised you, too. But it was honest.

“Not forever.”

“But you don’t think you can stop?”

Your anxiety spiked, a cold tightness in your chest. Flight response pushed at the corners of your brain. You didn’t want to be with the Avengers forever. That was out there now. Out there in the world. “Hey- this seems like a session- I think we’d better finish up your paperwork and get you on payroll- make it official.” You were on your feet. Knowing how obvious this all was, to someone like her. Hell. Anyone. You weren’t being terribly secretive right now.

“Is this official?” She let you get away with it anyway, smiling up your way.

“I think we can move forward. We can’t tell if it’s not a good fit until we work with each other a little more- and- them too- don’t forget.”

“I’m not forgetting.” She stood, offering her hand out. “It’s been a pleasure. When can I look forward to sitting down with you again?”

You gave her hand a firm shake. “How about next week. Monday work for you?”

Her laugh surprised you. “Technically I work for you now, once I sign my name on a few more dotted-lines. What’s best for your schedule?”

“Monday evening.” That was a lie. Nothing was ever going to be good for your schedule. But you’d push things around to make an attempt at making this a regular thing. You had to. For your own sake. “I’ll try to push a few of the others your way, too.”

“Not too hard. I don’t want them to reject the idea of this outright. It won’t help anyone.”

Nodding, “Understood. I’ll send Pepper in here to help you get set up. You like the office?”

“It’s very nice. Thank you.”

“Good.”

Great. Wonderful. Fantastic.

----

Because everyone seemed to be avoiding you, for no reason at all, you and Tony opted for a quiet dinner at the penthouse. While you’d ordered in, you still unboxed everything and plated it. Dinner was eaten in the living room in front of a TV neither of you was really listening to. In fact, Tony had been talking about something. Research in the lab- suits- you were listening. Honest. But… it wasn’t all sticking. You were still thinking about what Deja had said. More importantly, what you had said. And after dinner was over, you followed him into the kitchen. Leaning your elbows onto the counter in a slow slide, you put your chin in your upturned palms, watching him as he washed the dishes. Just as he got to drying the last plate, you couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“Do you think we’ll be part of the Avengers forever?”

He lowered the plate, looking up for a moment, then grinned lightly, shaking his head. “You spoke to her like what- twenty minutes? She that good?”

“I think I like her.” Honestly you weren’t actually sure yet. But she seemed honest. And nice. And willing to work hard. And try and help. What more could you ask for? “But… it wasn’t really a session.”

“Yet here you are after not listening to anything I said this evening, thinking about our future with the superfriends.”

“I listened.” Protesting. But you sensed he didn’t believe you. ...he was right. “I just… what’s the point we’re working towards? Are we going to be on-call for the rest of our lives? Or are we… are we going to reach a point where we don’t have to worry anymore?”

He set the plate down in the drying rack, slinging the dish towel over his shoulder. Going to you as you stood and then sat back atop the counter, his hands cradled your hips. “If you’re looking to me for guidance on this… I don’t have any right now. I’ve been thinking about this, too. And I don’t know.” You appreciated his honesty, even if it was blunt and put an unease in your heart. You would rather that than him lying. “Do I want to live in a world where eventually we finish and get to go home? Of course I do. ...do we live in that world?”

Your eyes left his. Feeling almost guilty. Because it seemed obvious. How could you? How could evil ever just be gone from the world? Not even the small threats that didn’t concern a team like the Avengers. But the bigger ones. How could you believe they’d just one day be gone forever?

You couldn’t. “No.” Feeling a forlorn sense of sorrow over this realization.

Reaching one hand up, he tipped your chin, angling your eyes back towards his. “I love you.” Despite the grimness of the situation, this, as always, got a small smile out of you. Made you feel better. “Do we live in that world right now? No. I don’t think so. But that doesn’t mean we won’t ever.”

“That’s pretty optimistic, for you.” Sliding your hands up his chest, you beckoned him closer. Eventually wrapping your arms around him, resting your head on his shoulder.

He gave you a squeeze, his head laying atop yours. “Realism is more my thing. You’re saying it’s not realistic to think we could achieve a… balance?”

“I don’t know.” Mumbling into his shirt. “I hope so.”

“I can work with hope.”

#Tony Stark #Tony Stark x Reader #INY Chapter Eighty Four

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honeyedhoseok · 6 years ago

Text

Should We Go Downtown?

Genre | angst, smut // friends-->lovers->friends au

Word Count | 9K

Summary | “And I don’t touch you, goddamn, I want to / Can we go downtown?” Taehyung has watched you struggle in your relationship with your boyfriend for a while, always being your shoulder to cry on. He’s learned the best trick to pick you up when you’re down--besides his sensation of his mouth on yours–is a trip downtown to the riverfront at nighttime, so you can see the boats coming in on the harbor while he tries to piece back together the girl he absolutely hates to see sad.

Warnings | Detailed smut, smoking, foul language, dirty talk, infidelity.

A/N | Listen...this was supposed to be a simple, short, angsty piece that turned into a 9K smut. I have no idea what happened but I hope you like how it turned out as much as I do! Also, thanks @risinginfire for proof-reading part of this and making me really excited to post it, ily <3

Read the rest of the V2 Series HERE!

--> Based on THIS song by The Ready Set

It’s the shrill, annoying sound of a phone call that breaks the bustling atmosphere of a get-together with your friends.

Actually, most of these people weren’t even your friends—they were really closer to Hongbin—and you were there because you were his girlfriend and therefore your presence was required but not necessary, because no one was talking to you.

You stood to the side in the kitchen, nursing a slice of greasy pizza that sat in the box beside you on the counter. Your friends were the reason you hadn’t left yet—the few that decided to show up to Hongbin’s casual, casual, casual (he stressed this to everyone multiple times during the week) party at his new apartment—and they surrounded you in a semicircle.

It was a ringtone you knew well, one that you’d told Hongbin a thousand times to change because it was too loud for someone who could hear perfectly fine. You thought it made him seem like a senior citizen with a smartphone they didn’t know how to work. He only chuckled each time you brought it up, as if you were just being silly. But now, of all times, you really wished his ringer wasn’t loud enough for everyone in the world to hear.

It’s nighttime—nearing 12 a.m.—and every acquaintance that Hongbin had was standing in the midst of his living and dining room, including you.

The first ring makes a few people around him quiet down just enough for you to catch the tail end of it, and you look up and over the shoulder of your friend Yeonwoo, who was standing directly across from you.

You watch Hongbin dig for his phone in his pocket, pulling it out to check the caller ID just as the second shrill ring sounds through the apartment. You flinch at its ferocity, the sound seeming to pierce not only your eardrums but your heart, as well. You knew what a call at this time of night meant.

You watch your boyfriend excuse himself from the circle of people around him, catching your eye accidentally in the kitchen as he makes his way through the living room and into the bedroom the two of you shared to talk to his awaiting caller.

Any mood that you had for the casual get-together was certainly ruined due to the interruption—and it was not unnoticed by your friends, especially to one set of eyes in particular that had been lingering on you all night.

As those around you struggle to revive the conversation that had just been interrupted, ultimately feeling the strange mood twist and turn around the circle like fog, one pair of dark eyes captures yours and reads you like a book.

Taehyung knew you well enough after being your longest and closest friend that the sad attempt at a smile that tugged around the corners of your mouth was as phony as the black acrylics that donned your fingers. He takes a sip of the cheap beer clutched in his hand—provided so graciously by the host, who was now busy talking to his other girl in the bedroom—and watches you struggle to compose yourself.

You shift your weight from foot to foot and widen your eyes as you look at Hyebin—an attempt at looking ultimately interested, but Taehyung knows it’s a method of keeping the hot tears filling your water line from crashing over onto your cheeks. You laugh a little too loudly, a little too much, for a joke that Hyebin told—which made her laugh nervously in return, obviously not sure if she’d really told a joke that was worth that much. Your reaction probably made her think she had miraculously turned comedian in the last five seconds.

Taehyung sighs, shaking his head a little to himself as he finishes off the last sips of his beer, crumpling the can in his hand before sinking it into the trashcan across the room. It was cheap, low percentage and left a bad taste in his mouth, much like Hongbin. He knew what you needed, and it wasn’t another story about Yeonwoo or Hyebin’s antics from the weekend before.

“Hey, Y/N,” he says, waiting for a break in conversation. “Come outside with me right quick—I just put a new stereo system in my car and I wanted you to hear how some bass-boosted songs sound.” He pauses, grinning at you. “I swear it’ll move your hair to the beat if it’s turned up to twenty-two.”

You blink once at the random request, but your brain quickly catches up—Taehyung was doing this to get you away for a few moments—and you nod, letting him wrap warm fingers around your wrist and lead you outside.

You expect him to stop once you two are outside of your apartment door, but he keeps going, leading you down the stairwell and out to the parking lot where his beat-up, black Honda sits in one of the visitor’s spaces.

“Door’s unlocked,” he murmurs, clicking the keypad in his hand once.

You open the passenger door, listening to it give a usual protesting groan. You push yourself inside, settling into the familiar sights and smells of Taehyung’s car. An old Yankee Candle air freshener swings lightly to and fro from his rearview mirror, it’s fragranced inside shriveled from years of the sun; Taehyung has had it in his car as long as you can remember—in fact, you’re positive he took it from his mom’s car and put it in this one when he brought it, despite having little to no scent left.

Once inside, Taehyung turns the key in the ignition once so that the radio lights up, but the motor doesn’t run. He cracks the windows on both your sides, letting in a cool, fall night breeze that caresses the warm apples of your cheeks as it swirls between you two.

A light tune floats from the radio—one of Taehyung’s driving mixes, you guessed—but he doesn’t turn it up and instead, lets it settle as background music. You can tell he did get a new radio and new speakers, but he doesn’t intend on letting you hear them just yet.

Once you are outside and away from the bustling crowd of people inside your apartment, the reality and embarrassment of what had just happened finally settle in. You look down at your hands in your lap, fiddling with a loose piece of gel nail polish lifted up on your ring finger, and avoid catching Taehyung’s eyes.

He hates seeing you like this, hates the way that Hongbin can snatch a good mood from you so quick without having to say a single thing. He was a piece of garbage, through and through, but somehow you loved him through all of it—it was something Taehyung would never understand.

You sniffle suddenly, breaking him out of his trance and he looks over at you to watch as a single tear rolls down your cheek.

Taehyung busies himself with searching in the middle console as you wipe angrily at your face with the sleeve of your shirt, turning away from him to look out the window instead. He needs something to do, something to focus on so he doesn’t go back in the apartment and rip Hongbin a new one. Finally, his fingers grasp the box he’s looking for and he pulls it, along with a lighter, out of the compartment.

“You mind?” he asks you, showing you what’s in his hand. You shake your head no, as always.

Taehyung’s obsession with cigarillos was as puzzling to you as your obsession with your shitty boyfriend was to him. But you didn’t mind it—you didn’t mind a lot of the things Taehyung did because he put up with you all these years—and besides, the kind he smoked let off an air that smelled sweet and so like him. When he was around you, you would catch whiffs of it sometimes, like he himself was the embodiment of the skinny rolled tubes he smoked daily.

“I found a different kind,” he says conversationally. When you turn to look at him, you have new wet marks trailing down your cheeks, but he chooses to ignore it for the time being. “Cherry vanilla. Smell.”

He lights the end, inhaling once and then takes the skinny Black & Mild out of his mouth so he can blow its perfumed smoke in your direction. You sniff, wrinkling your nose at first, but he’s right—it does smell nice.

“I still like the summer blend the best,” you say.

Taehyung shakes his head in annoyance, taking another inhale. He blows this one in your direction, too. “Too bad they discontinued them,” he says, smoke coming out of his nostrils as he speaks. “They discontinue all the fucking good flavors.”

Silence settles over the both of you for a while. Taehyung sits with his cigarillo in hand, blowing clouds of smoke out of his cracked window and into the night air. A lot of it stays inside instead of escaping through, covering you two in a skinny, sweet smelling fog that reminds you of your hot-boxing days in high school.

Things were much simpler back then, when Hongbin wasn’t thought of and it was just you and Taehyung every day. During your senior year, Taehyung got you to skip more than you actually attended class. He could always tell when you weren’t feeling up to going to school as soon as you got into his car. He would toss your bookbag in the backseat, giving you a wicked grin as he backed out your driveway—you’d realize it as you pulled up to the school still going forty-five miles per hour that Taehyung had no intention of stopping, and instead was going to take you on one of the many adventures you two embarked on that year.

Each one was simple—a trip to an old bookstore or record shop, sometimes to a park, sometimes to eat at a ratty stand downtown—but his plans were always a way of getting your mind off things.

Taehyung was good at reading you, good at only speaking about whatever was bothering you only when he knew you could handle it, good at just being there for you—whether it was in silence with his hands, lips and tongue to keep you distracted, or with just being a shoulder to cry on and a hand to hold.

But that was then, and this was now. Things were harder when he wasn’t first on your list of people to vent to. You had a boyfriend—and even if he was shitty—he was the center of your universe. Well, except for when he took calls from other girls like the sleazy piece of fucking garbage that he was.

Taehyung inhales deeply after a puff, trying to calm himself once more by letting the smoke reach the deepest parts of him. He steals another glance at you after opening his eyes and you are looking at him too, your watery eyes searching the planes of his face.

He looks so cool and relaxed in the dark with his face lit up from the lights of the radio—something you’ve always envied about him. You feel like you are an anxious, shaking mess all the time, but Taehyung never seems bothered by anything.

“I don’t want to go back in,” you say, breaking the silence. Your bottom lip shakes slightly, and your teeth sneak out to latch onto it, stilling it for the time being. “Can we just stay out here?”

“He’ll come looking for you,” Taehyung says. “You know that.”

“Then let’s leave.”.

Your voice is pleading, and Taehyung hates that. It sounds like honey to his ears—this is how you hold him in, with that little sweet voice of yours that keeps him trapped and sticky. You aren’t doing it on purpose—you certainly can’t know what kind of hold you have over him—but he still hates it.

Taehyung sighs, dropping the end of the cigar into an old fast food cup sitting up front. He rattles the contents side to side, making sure the water in the bottom puts out the existing flame before sitting it back in the cup holder.

“Please?” you say, making sure he hasn’t forgotten your mention from earlier. “Tae?”

“Put your seat belt on,” he grunts, reaching out to turn the key in the ignition.

Your face lights up with gratitude and you sit back in your seat, clicking the belt over your waist with a grin.

You look like a maniac. Your makeup is a little smeared from the crying and your eyes are red but at least you’re smiling. You’re smiling because once again, Taehyung and his Honda are going to take you away from all your problems, even if it’s only temporary.

Taehyung cuts the radio up a little louder once you’re on the road, and it’s an R&B mix that’s playing through the speakers. This song seems to be just the beats; he listens to a lot of music without lyrics because lyrics are distracting, or so he claims. But over the years, you’ve gotten attached to the style. You listen to lo-fi playlists when you have big projects to work on, and it helps you concentrate.

You roll your window down a little more, allowing the night time air to rush through the car. With your elbow propped on the door, you rest your chin on your folded arms. Tonight, thanks to the mix that plays through the speakers, you’re able to focus on the scenes of the city-scape coming into view as you drive down familiar streets away from your apartment.

“Are we going downtown?” you ask, your hair whipping around your face as you turn to look at Taehyung. He’s put the black hood of his jacket up to shield some of the wind from his own face, but he gives you a nod in answer.

You turn back around to the scenery flying by you, your lips twisting up in a small smile. Taehyung knows you love going downtown because the riverfront is there, and your new favorite thing is to watch the boats going past while the city lights reflect on the murky harbor water.

It’s the weekend, so downtown is a little more crowded than usual. You realize this as you pull into the city blocks that hold the many bars, restaurants and clubs that downtown has to offer. A party bus comes to a stop beside the car as Taehyung waits at a red light to pull into the parking deck, its inhabitants laughing and talking loudly enough to overpower the pounding baseline coming from the speakers inside. It looks to be a pre-wedding celebration of some kind—you can see a congratulatory banner on the side of the bus, but it pulls off before you can finish reading the swirly script it’s printed in.

Taehyung drives through the brightly lit parking garage, stopping and parking on the first floor thanks to a car reversing out of its spot just in time. He winks over at you at his good luck and places the parking ticket on the dashboard before getting out.

You follow him in his haste, excited to be away from your crowded living room and on to indulge yourself in the night life of the city you lived in. Downtown had its own energy that permeates you as soon as you step out of the parking garage and onto the cobble stoned streets. Your flat-bottomed sneakers allow you to feel each ridge of the rocks on the arches of your feet.

Taehyung stops once you two round the corner onto the main street, pulling the box of Black & Milds out of his pocket to light one up. He hovers in front of a parked car, the hood of his jacket still up and covering his face. He uses it like a shield, blocking the slight breeze from putting out the little flame produced from his lighter.

“You look so emo in this lighting,” you tease. “Let me take a picture.”

Taehyung quirks an eyebrow at you but says nothing as you pull your phone out of the pocket of your jacket.

You were always taking pictures of everything—always wanting to document your visits to places—but at some point in your friendship, he realized you really enjoyed taking them of him. You had so many of him doing mundane things like eating, talking, walking, and he never understood why. He let you take them though, and imagined that sometimes, maybe, you sat at home when he wasn’t around and looked at them, missing the time you two spent together; he knew he certainly did the same thing when you weren’t around.

With that in mind, he stands in front of the car with the lights of the city reflecting behind him and hides his cigar behind his leg while you snap pictures of him.

“Wanna see?” you ask when you’re finished, but he shakes his head.

“I’ll just want you to delete them.”

“But these are really good,” you protest. “Just look. You’re like a model, Tae.”

Taehyung takes a peek at the phone and lifts one shoulder in response, grunting in semi-satisfaction.

You didn’t understand why he hated to take pictures—there were rarely times where he ever wanted to pose for one, regardless if it was with you or a group. You roll your eyes at his unenthusiastic response, clicking the lock on your phone and stuffing it back in your pocket.

“Mean,” you mutter, bumping Taehyung’s shoulder as you walk past him and down the sidewalk.

It wasn’t long before he caught up, his long legs bringing him to you in no time, and he was bumping your shoulder back. A small smile plays on the edges of his lips and you both know all is forgiven. Taehyung doesn’t move over on the sidewalk as you keep walking, switching his lit cigar from his left hand to his right so he can take drags, with his other shoulder nudging yours occasionally.

It takes one, two, times of his hand bumping into yours before he grabs it finally, sifting his fingers through your own in a tight hold. You don’t mind this either—his hand is big and warm and feels like home, and so you let him hold it.

“Let me try,” you say after walking a few steps, reaching for the lit cigar in his other hand.

Taehyung passes it to you, watching you bring it to your overly pursed lips and breathe inward. Your form is bad because you don’t smoke, but at least from being around him all the time you don’t cough on the inhale.

You blow it out, hard, in the direction of his face and giggle. “How do you like it, huh?” you say, grinning. “How’s this feel to you?”

Taehyung inhales air deeply using his stomach muscles, yanking you by the hand to come closer and breathe on him again. The action makes you laugh, loudly this time—a brilliant sound to his ears—and you take one more drag to blow softly on his face, which was now mere inches from your own.

The smoke cascades over his tanned cheeks, seeping into the cracks of his hoodie and settling around his neck and hair. He accepts it gladly, breathing in the sweet scents of cherry and vanilla and something reminiscent of the virgin Pina Colada you’d had earlier. He was glad he’d brought you out—you were so pretty when you were happy and smiling like this, your eyes sparking from the lighting of the shops downtown and staring with excitement into his own.

You hand it back to him, still grinning as you continue walking.

“Let’s go in there,” Taehyung says softly, nudging you with his shoulder in the direction of a bar across the street. “We can get those shooters you like.”

You nod, leading the way and dragging Taehyung behind you as you cross the street to the sound of the walk signal beeping. You both flash your IDs to the bouncer and Taehyung drops the remains of his smoke on the ground, stubbing it out with the toe of his sneaker before following you inside.

You walk straight up to the counter, flagging down the bartender and ordering two green tea shooters. You hand her your card, telling her to close the tab while you wait for the drinks, Taehyung hovering somewhere behind you. When she hands you the glasses and your card back, Taehyung’s arm appears over your shoulder, reaching out to grab his. He waits for you, and you two clink glasses before tipping them back.

“The green tea is so good!” you yell, moving closer to his ear to be heard over the loud atmosphere inside of the bar.

His hands fall to your waist as you lean in, steadying you on your tip toes, and his own answer comes at your ear, “But I like the purple Gatorade better.”

You pout at him and he gives you another wink, and then you’re grabbing his hand in yours again to pull him out of the bar and back onto the sidewalks of downtown. This time you make a beeline straight for the street that runs behind the buildings of downtown—the one paved in front of the river.

With you glancing back at Taehyung every so often, your hair whipping around your face as you give him a grin while you lead him through the throngs of people on the sidewalks—he can’t imagine how Hongbin has the audacity to hurt you over and over. The simple thought of it gives him a pit in his stomach, which you wash away with each and every look you throw back at him over your shoulder. Its like you think he’s going to disappear if you don’t keep turning around to check, which is silly: the tight grip you have on his hand says that would be quite impossible.

And Taehyung wouldn’t want to be anywhere but here right now, anyways.

“It’s so pretty!” you exclaim upon rounding another corner, finally able to see the riverfront from where you are standing across the street. You wait for a car to pass by before tugging Taehyung along again, until you’re on the dock that hovers over the water. There’s not many people on the riverfront—most are doing their part in the bustling nightlife that encompasses a few blocks behind you two.

There’s seating right in front of the railing, but you chose to stand, wanting the best view of the boats. Taehyung hovers by your side, his own eyes trailing over the water, over the evening skyline back-lighting a bridge in the distance.

You pull your phone out again to snap a blurry picture of what’s in front of you.

Taehyung watches your face fall as you realize your phone can’t quite capture the beautiful scenery seen with your own eyes, and he reaches out to take the phone from you.

“Let’s take one of you with the water in the background,” he says, backing up a few paces.

You pose effortlessly, tucking your hair behind your ear and leaning back against the railing, placing your elbows on either side. You look side to side while he snaps pictures before laughing at your own modeling antics. The one with the wide grin on your face turns out to be the best picture of them all, though when Taehyung turns his phone around to show you, you wrinkle your nose in distaste.

“My mouth looks funny,” you say, imitating your own grin in exaggeration. “Don’t you think?”

“It looks big,” Taehyung responds. But cute, he thinks. And kissable.

You smack him on the shoulder playfully before turning your attention back on the water.

A few years ago, if Taehyung was in this situation, he would be able to walk up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist. You would lean back into him, and he would press a few soft kisses to the warm apple of your cheek or your temple before resting his chin on your shoulder and watching the skyline with you.

He can feel the imprint of you on him like it’s still there—the way you fit together so effortlessly, your body always soft and warm beneath his hands. There’s an infinite amount of times he’s taken you into his arms and breathed you in, keeping his hold on you tightly until you squirmed out of his reach, giggling each time he held you tighter so you couldn’t go anywhere.

He itches to do this now, until he realizes you’re crying again.

You swipe at your cheek once, twice, with your shoulder until the tears are falling too freely and you have to use both of your hands, taking them off the railing in front of you to wipe your face clean.

“Y/N,” Taehyung murmurs softly, and now he’s right at your side instead of somewhere behind you, his voice close to your ear. “What’s wrong?”

“Why am I not good enough for him, Tae?” you whisper, your voice on the edge of breaking. “Why does he keep doing this to me?”

When you turn to look at him, your eyes are rimmed red and glassy again. Your lips are parted, the bottom one trembling with how hard you are trying to hold yourself together.

“He’s not—” Taehyung trips over his words, trying to hold back his own feelings on the situation. “He’s not thinking right. He’s making mistakes.”

“Mistakes,” you scoff. “You’d think after a while he’d get it right.”

“Maybe.” Taehyung shrugs. “Maybe not. Guess it depends on how single-minded someone is.”

“I know it was a girl calling him tonight, Tae. I just know it. He’s been acting weird for a few weeks now, you know—how he always gets when he’s tired of me again—”

Taehyung takes a deep breath in as you say the words so casually, as if that were a normal part of the ups and downs of a relationship.

“—and then he started turning his phone over on the table, started putting it on vibrate when he was around me, started taking a really long time in the bathroom.” You pause, sniffling. “So, I listened in on him the other day—the shower was on—and he was sitting there, talking on the phone while the water was just running.”

“Could you hear was he was saying?”

“No, he was talking too low, so it was just murmurs. But why take a phone call in the bathroom?”

“Maybe he’s planning you a surprise birthday party,” Taehyung offered, picking up a rock by his foot launching it over the railing and into the river.

“Can you be serious?” you snap, suddenly looking at him with pinched eyebrows, your lips pouty with hurt.

“Okay then,” Taehyung huffs. “What do you want me to say, he’s a piece of shit? I think we both know that, Y/N.”

“I don’t know,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest to hold yourself. “Tell me why boys always hurt me.”

“Now that is unfair,” Taehyung says, turning his own hurt gaze on you, now.

“How?” you ask stubbornly, wiping at a stray tear streak on your face. “Didn’t you do the same thing?”

“I was young.”

“And Hongbin isn’t?”

“He’s not in high school, Y/N!” Taehyung explodes, slamming a hand down on the wood railing. “He’s not some dumb kid who didn’t know how good they had it until it was gone, okay? Hongbin is grown. You two live together, and he still can’t get his fucking act right. He’s done this what, three times now? And you keep going back to him, so I don’t know who’s stupider—you or him.” He ends the statement with a pointed, shaking finger at your chest and then one out to the lit bridge in the distance, where your shiny new apartment with Hongbin lies.

“Or you,” you spit at him, slapping a palm on his chest. The movement catches Taehyung off guard, giving you the opportunity to land another one as you release your anger. “What about you, huh?”

“What about me?” Taehyung asks incredulously. His tone raises an octave before he realizes there are people down the dock from you two, and he repeats in a whisper, “What about me?”

“Why are you still around, Taehyung? Why are you still here if this bothers you so bad!”

Taehyung chuckles humorlessly. “You want me here just as much as I want to be here, Y/N. Let’s not kid ourselves. We both know you use me—in many ways, I might add.”

“It was one time!”

“And another time after that, and once more, and then a make out in my car, and then you came to my house in the middle of the night—” he ticks the moments off on his fingers, tilting his head in confusion. “Oh, I’m sorry, do those not count?”

“You’re disgusting!” you cry, hitting him again. “You’re fucking disgusting—”

“Not as disgusting as your boyfriend who does this to you,” Taehyung says, holding you by the shoulders in order to stop your assault on him.

Your chest is heaving up and down and your face is contorted, streaked with hot tears that don’t seem to be stopping anytime soon. You’re sure you look like a really drunk girl to anyone passing by, mad at your boyfriend for talking to other girls in the club, so he bought you to the riverfront and away from the parties in order to calm you down. If only they knew how spot-on that scenario actually was in the moment.

“I would never do this to you, Y/N, do you hear me?” Taehyung says softly, pressing you to his chest. “I was just a kid back then—don’t hold that against me now.” He pauses, seeming to think of a nicer way to put his words before he says bluntly, “Unlike him, I won’t make the same mistakes twice.”

You let him hold you, knowing there’s some truth in his words, but there’s also a lie wrapped in there, too.

Taehyung knows this as well, because as you pull away from him, he cups your jaw with both hands softly, wiping away a stray tear with the pad of his thumb before he leans down and connects your lips in a familiar, soft kiss.

But kissing you is his mistake, because it means he failed once again to separate himself from his feelings. And this is certainly not the first time he’s chosen his heart instead of his head in the last three years that you’ve been with Hongbin. He’s sure it won’t be the last, either.

You respond to him feverishly, leaning up on your tiptoes and wrapping your arms around his hoodie-clad neck, bringing you chest to chest. There’s a beautiful city-scape behind you, but nothing compares right now to the slow and delicate way Taehyung’s tongue tastes every inch of the inside of your mouth with hot, slow licks.

He knows exactly how to kiss you to make you lightheaded, it seems. His hands comb backwards into your hair, scratching lightly at your scalp and you whine at the pleasurable feeling, separating your lips with a loud smack that has him smiling.

He kisses you a few more times—just soft pecks to your lips with your eyes closed. When you open them, his are still squeezed shut, eyelashes fanned out on his cheeks and his bottom lip barely brushing yours as he murmurs, “Should we leave?”

You nod, suddenly nervous and aware of the wandering eyes around you. You grab Taehyung’s hand for the second time that night, pulling him back through the streets and to the parking garage with determination. Downtown fades into the background as your need for each other takes over—this is something you are used to, as well.

The days when you would skip in high school were nothing compared to the moments when Taehyung would take you back to his parent’s house after your adventures, curling up with you on his bed before ravishing your body until just before they got home. You two would sneak out, all kisses and giggles again despite having left his bedroom smelling of sweat and sex, and he would take you home, his hand encased with yours over the middle console the whole drive.

He clicks his keypad as you two near, and his Honda gives an answering headlight flash as the doors unlock.

Once the doors are shut and the radio is playing softly in the background, you don’t waste any more time before you are swinging your legs over the middle console and settling yourself into Taehyung’s lap.

Your lips lock onto his again and he grunts, shifting you into a more comfortable position so you aren’t squishing his dick against his leg before his lips answer yours in fevered movements.

You push his hood backwards so that you can run your hands through his dark chocolate tresses, tangling your fingers within the fine strands and giving them a tug. Taehyung grins against your mouth, nibbling on your bottom lip as an invitation for you to do it again.

Taehyung’s hands roam your waist before pushing the fabric of your jacket off your shoulders and into the passenger seat. He carves a trail of sloppy, wet kisses down across your jaw and neck, fiery movements that seem to ignite your whole body.

It’s the smacks of mouths and breathy sighs that drown out the song playing on the radio. For once, you’re happy Taehyung’s windows are tinted a little darker than a normal car since you haven’t moved from the parking space in the garage. But you can’t wait—you want him, and you want him now.

It’s never like this with Hongbin. God, you couldn’t even remember the last time you had a quick, hot, passionate moment with him. Every moment like this in your memory is tied to images of Taehyung—his mouth, his hands, his cock—and each time it happens you get a little more memory for your spank bank when Hongbin is too busy for you.

Your mind isn’t allowed to linger on those thoughts for long, because Taehyung commands your attention, his hand shoving its way under your shirt to knead at the fabric of your bra. His mouth, hot and heavy on your neck, lap waves on your most sensitive spots. He licks and sucks his way up to your mouth and down again, all while you rut against the center of his lap shamelessly.

“God—” he murmurs against the skin of your clavicle, “you’re so fucking hot. Want you so bad.”

“Have me,” you say back breathlessly, mind foggy in the moment. Dirty talk is saved for only these moments with Taehyung, and you use it to the fullest because you know it gets to him. “I’m yours, Tae.” You breathe into his mouth, dragging your tongue across his bottom lip in a lazy manner. “Touch me, please.”

You don’t have to tell him twice—his hand immediately leaves your chest and travels south at your command. Taehyung unbuttons your bottoms with ease, snatching your zipper down and trailing his fingertips over the expanse of skin beneath your belly button.

You shiver a little at the ticklish sensation and let your head loll backwards, giving him a clear view of all the parts of your neck he hasn’t ravished yet.

Somewhere in between kissing you and feeling you up, he’d taken the opportunity to slide his seat all the way back, so when his fingers finally graze your most sensitive area, your body sinks back against the steering wheel into a more comfortable position.

A sigh escapes your mouth as he circles your clit, warming up the bundle of nerves with a few twists of his wrist. You grind down in his lap once more, finally feeling the bulge of his half-hard dick sitting between your legs. The thought makes your mouth water—knowing that the sensation of him filling you up is in the near future.

“Don’t tease me,” you whimper, leaning back up to suck at the skin on his neck. He grunts in response to your tongue laving at his throat, the tendons in his neck sticking out with how hard he’s trying to control himself.

Taehyung wants nothing more than to push you into the backseat and pound into your soaking wet center until you’re chanting his name, but he isn’t sure if that’s what you want tonight or not. Sometimes your hookups were just kissing, sometimes just oral, and rarely ever did you engage in full-blown sex.

When you’d shown up at his house in the middle of the night a few months ago, he’d thought you just wanted a body to sleep next to while Hongbin was out of town. Little did he realize you came over with a mission—or, he did realize it, when you swung a leg over him as you laid beside each other in bed, luring him in like a siren with your sinful hands and mouth. But you’d felt guilty afterwards, and so he never wanted to push you if you didn’t want it first.

“Please Tae,” you whine. You hand drifts down to his lap, squeezing his erection softly over his jeans. The feeling of you touching him makes him groan, and he pushes further into your pants, dipping a fingertip into your wetness. “I can’t—ngh—wait anymore.”

He doesn’t realize what you mean until you’re moving his hand away from your center, lifting off him to pull your own pants down just enough to expose your dripping core. You go to work at pulling his down then, too, and Taehyung groans again as your hand finally grips him, finding his erection through the hole in the front of his briefs.

“Fuck—” he grunts when you run your thumb over the head of his dick, swirling the bead of precum gathered at the top.

“I want you,” you whine, still not sure if he’s getting the point. “Do you want me?”

Taehyung picks his own head up from its relaxed position against the headrest just in time to see you pop your thumb in your mouth, spreading the taste of him all over your tongue. The sight is enough to make him twitch in your grip.

“’Course I do,” he says, his tone dropping an octave at the confession. It isn’t until he takes in the position you’re in—sitting on his lap, half-naked, with his cock in your hand does he realize what you mean. “Fuck, Y/N, right here?”

You nod slowly with your thumb still in your mouth, looking at him with those wide, blown out eyes that he can’t help but give into.

“No condoms,” he breathes, watching with half-sheathed eyes as you stroke his length with a soft touch.

“Don’t care,” you say. You lean your head down to let a line of spit dribble from your mouth and onto Taehyung’s cock, using the movements of your hand to lubricate him down to the base.

He’s hard as hell and in no position to tell you no. So, when you lift your hips above his, using your spit-soaked hand to line him up with your entrance, all he can do is watch you with his teeth sunk into his bottom lip.

You press onto him, letting him fill you up in a warm stretch that is so welcoming to your quivering insides. Taehyung lets out a low groan, his hands immediately latching on your hips with fingertips pressing into the skin of your thighs to aide your movements. You lean forward into his embrace, lowering your head onto his shoulder and burying your face into the soft, smoky scent of the material of his hoodie.

It’s sloppy and enclosed and hot inside the car because the air conditioning isn’t on and you’re both wearing way too many clothes, but a thrill runs through you at the thought that Taehyung wants you so much he’ll take you anywhere. He smells so good to you, starting to sweat a little around his temples and you want nothing more than to taste him, taste every inch of him you can get. You run a hot trail with your tongue up his neck, latching your teeth onto his ear lobe as you rise and drop your hips.

Neither of you know when this will happen again, and so you want to make the best of what time you have with each other.

“Fuck—” he grumbles, tilting his face to the side to capture your lips with his in a kiss that is hard and all teeth. “You’re so fucking hot like this—fucking yourself on me—”

A whine escapes your mouth at his breathy, low narrations. The bundle of nerves inside you is tightening, twisting into a ball in your stomach that you welcome with faster movements of your hips. Taehyung’s dick reaches all the right places inside of you, filling you up just right, like this is what he was meant to do: make you fall apart on top of him.

“Does that prick Hongbin f—fuck you like this?” he growls, leaning forward. While still aiding your movements with his hands, his lips latch onto your neck, sucking the skin into a pretty shade of pink with hard drawls of his mouth.

“Tae—” you whimper, because your head is too fuzzy right now to talk about Hongbin. All you want is him, him, him—but he doesn’t give in that easy.

“Does he?” he asks in a commanding tone against the skin of your throat. “If I’m so disgusting then why do you keep coming back, Y/N? Hm?” He trails one hand from your hip, pressing his thumb against your clit—it’s a movement that has your complete attention suddenly, your body on red alert as he makes slow, circular patterns that has your stomach muscles jumping. “It’s because you love this cock, isn’t it?”

He’s right, you do, and so you nod in agreement. But there’s something else about Taehyung that’s exciting and irresistible and comfortable and utterly familiar that you just can’t let go of. He’s unlike any other person you’ve ever met, and despite how hard you are trying to build a life with Hongbin because you know that’s what’s right, you still find yourself coming back to Taehyung for him to fill all the holes Hongbin can’t even think about reaching—in the literal and metaphorical sense.

Taehyung’s other hand comes up to grip your chin, making you open your eyes and look at him. His tongue darts out to wet his own lips, taking in your pretty face, eyes half-lidded as you continue to move up and down on his cock.

“Say it,” he says, in the softest voice. His ministrations on your clit fall unhurriedly to the smallest of circles, and you want to cry out at the diminishing tightness in your stomach as you slow your hips. “Tell me, Y/N. Tell me how much better I fuck you, than him.”

You kiss him with all tongue to shut him up, hard, wet and sloppy, hoping it will satisfy him. But you know Taehyung better than that, and you’re not surprised at all when he tilts his mouth away from yours, a devilish grin twisting the corners up.

“You don’t want to talk now, huh?” he asks impishly. “It was all Taehyung fuck me earlier, but now, nothing?” He mocks you in a girlish, breathy voice.

“Well, you’re not doing much fucking, are you?” you ask with a tilt of your head, playing along with his game.

He chuckles darkly, and you can feel the vibrations through his chest and onto yours from how pressed your bodies are against each other. His cock twitches inside of you, as if your words rile him up for a few seconds.

“That’s certainly not your pretty fingers between your legs, so I’d say I am."

You trail kisses along his jaw line with a smile—small pecks in order to warm him back up to you. You know he isn’t really bothered by all of this, Taehyung just loves to see what kind of dirty shit he can make you say when you’re all fucked out and desperate to cum. As usual, you give into him because you do want a release—but also because it’s somewhat fun. And somewhat the truth.

You start the slow movements of your hips again, loving the way Taehyung’s mouth parts and he lets out a sigh when you clench around him.

“I come back—” you mouth across his throat, making a trail up to the shell of his ear, “because you’re the only one who can make me, fall apart—like this, Tae.”

Your words seem to sate him for the time-being, and he releases his hold on your face, one hand coming back down to your hip while the other tends to your pulsing clit. He’s aiding you faster this time, the claps of your hips against his echoing through the car.

“God, yes, yes—” you cry out, eyes squeezing shut. “So good, Tae. So fucking, good—”

“Mm,” he grunts, feeling your warmth squeeze around him as you work quickly back up to your orgasm, “You’re so pretty with my cock filling you up.”

The car is filled with a cacophony of noises—your wanton moans and Taehyung’s deep, breathy murmurs in your ear, making you closer and closer to you release with each sinful thing that slithers from his mouth. Both your hips in rhythm with each other can surely be heard from outside the car—you just hope and pray with all your might that no one walks by to get into their vehicle until you’re through.

Taehyung’s fingers work magic on your sensitive bud and you grab onto the scruff of hair that sits on his neck, your fingernails scraping at his skin as you chase the impending snap of the coil in your stomach. Your whole body is tense, shaking, sweaty as you focus on his dick hitting you at just the right angle, scared to move too much for the feeling might diminish even the slightest.

“Gonna cum,” you pant, “Tae—Tae, I’m gonna—”

Your voice cuts off as your orgasm hits you, a heavy sigh releasing from your mouth as your body goes limp on Taehyung after the first wave rolls through. He takes control then, determined to help you ride out the searing pleasure as he ruts into you from the bottom. Each time his hips connect with yours, filling you up to the hilt, you swear you fall in love a little more.

“That’s it, baby,” Taehyung murmurs with a sated smile, nipping and biting along your collarbones. “Cum on me.”

You’re clenching around his length so well, the sounds of your heavy breathing in his ears as you come down off your high, he almost doesn’t catch it. As you press your lips to his over and over, soft, small kisses in way of a thank you—Taehyung’s ears pick up on the sound again. His hips stutter underneath you and then stop, and he sighs.

“Y/N, your phone,” he says softly, and even you can catch the hint of disappointment that laces his tone.

“What?” you ask, eyebrows furrowing—but then you hear it, too. The soft muted hums of it vibrating against the seat in your jacket pocket interrupt the moment and you shift on Taehyung’s lap reaching over to grab it.

Taehyung can’t help but feel like he’s part of some sick, cosmic joke because the annoying, repetitive sound of a phone call has now ruined both your nights. He leans his head against the headrest, his dick still hard and twitching between your thighs.

“It’s Hongbin,” you say softly. You stare at the screen, at his contact picture, finger hovering over the green button that will surely sour the mood upon being clicked.

“Don’t answer it, Y/N,” Taehyung says suddenly. His hands are soft at your sides, rubbing up and down your hips trying to coax you back into the moment. “Please—don’t answer.”

“Tae, I have to,” you say in a hushed whisper. You give him an apologetic look just as your finger hits the button, and you bring your phone to your ear.

“Y/N, please, I told you—”

You clap a hand over his mouth, begging him with your eyes to stay quiet as a shaky hello tumbles over your lips.

Taehyung wants to take the phone from you, wants to roll down the window and toss it hard, to smash it on the ground; but he knows better than that. If Hongbin knew you two were together, that would be it. He would get no more time with you, no more visits, no more small, intimate moments—and no matter how small they might be, he still enjoyed them.

He can hear Hongbin’s deep voice on the phone. He doesn’t sound angry, and instead, apologetic as he coaxes you with his excuses to come back home. Hongbin knows you left with Taehyung at first, but you quickly tell him you caught a cab downtown. It’s no secret that you love to escape by going to the riverfront, it’s just a matter of with who.

As you listen to Hongbin tell you about the party, you absentmindedly begin to swivel your hips onto Taehyung, earning an encouraging squeeze from his hands on your ass. He’s still half-hard in between your legs, and all it takes is a few rises from your hips to get him right back into action.

This is your apology to him for taking the phone call, and he knows it.

With your hand still pressed over his mouth to muffle any sounds that might come out, you help coax him to his own high, feeling the familiar tell-tale signs of his dick twitching between your legs with just a few, heavy moments.

His fingers dig into the spaces of your hip bones, big hands splayed out over your whole side as his eyes squeeze shut, barely audible grunts forming behind your hand as he spills his pearly release into your already spent core.

When you’re sure Taehyung isn’t going to say anything you remove your hand, wiping the perspiration from his upper lip on your shirt. He looks sated, his half-mast eyes hovering over your face as you finish your phone call. With his lips parted and swollen and his chest heaving, you can’t help but feel proud of yourself for taking part in his coming undone, and you trail a few soft fingertips down the side of his face.

“Love you too,” you respond softly to Hongbin, clutching your phone hard enough in your hand that your knuckles turn white.

Your eyes sting stupidly, your waterline filling as soon as the call is over—and they should, Taehyung thinks. He’s mad at you, but letting you know would only make those hot, wet tears appear on your face again, and so he holds it in and instead cradles your jaw in his hands for a few lazy kisses. You aren’t super into it anymore, but he’s glad you at least you return them with small, sad movements of your mouth.

The ride home is quiet. Taehyung drives with tight knuckles on the steering wheel and you sit in the passenger seat with your knees up, your arms bound around them tightly.

As usual, Taehyung pulls to the curb around the corner of your street where Hongbin can’t see. He cuts the headlights on the car off and lets it sit idling while you gather your things. He has so many things to say as you do so, but they all combine into one jumbled mess in his brain.

Taehyung finally mumbles out, just as your hand touches the cold, smooth metal of the door handle to leave, “Don’t be too mad at him, Y/N.” He manages this, even though it pains him all the way to his core to support Hongbin. “I think he’s trying. Some people just need a little forgiving, you know?”

“Yeah, Tae,” you respond softly. “I know.”

You leave him then, walking around the back of your apartment building to sneak up the stairwell.

Taehyung imagines you going upstairs and unlocking the door normally, bypassing Hongbin in the living room where he’s probably cleaning up all his cheap beer and pizza from the get together. You don’t say anything to him and head straight to the shower, turning on the water until it’s burning to scrub off any and all scents or traces that Taehyung may have left while you were with him. He supposes you do this every time, and the thought makes a hurtful twinge pass through his chest.

“Love you,” Taehyung murmurs, watching your shadowy figure finally disappear up the stairs as he pulls off from the curb, waiting until he’s somewhere down the street before he switches his lights back on.

As he drives back through the city, back towards his own lonely apartment, he can’t help but hope that someday he’ll get to hear you say those words back to him again.

#armiesnet #taehyung x reader #bts scenarios #bts smut #taehyung smut #kim taehyung #taehyung angst #bts angst #bts x reader #honeyedhoseok #should we go downtown #oneshot

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dent-de-leon · 7 years ago

Note

Do you have any theories on how Shiro's current storyline might play out in canon?

This is like…a very big broad question. There’s really a lot of directions you could go with this. Ultimately, here’s a breakdown of some possibilities I’ve considered:

We go ahead and Devil’s Due comics this shit. For those who don’t know, there was a comic series based off 80′s Voltron where Sven was…different. He didn’t die–like VLD Shiro. Instead, he ended up having problems connecting with his Lion–remember how Kuron was shut out by Black at first? You later find out that, the reason why Voltron denied him, was because he’d been compromised. Brainwashed by Haggar and Lotor’s fiance Merla. He turns against the team and ends up becoming an antagonist for a bit. I think it’s very possible we might see Kuron pull something like that (albeit against his will). So you have this scenario where Kuron is maybe warring with himself but he still splits from the team and actively becomes a “villain” for a bit.

It’s also possible that Kuron will be able to maintain more control though. And maybe, once he realizes he’s putting the team at risk, he’ll leave Voltron on his own and go out searching for some answers for his recent memory blanks and behavior. This leads to him investigating into Operation Kuron on his own, and having to come to terms with what that means. There’s a good chance he might resent Shiro, because this is supposed to be his life, and to know that none of this ever was…that he has no real life or past or memories of his own…that’s harsh. He might be loathe to meet Shiro at first. But he could also end up actively trying to save him, it’s really anybody’s guess.

The fact is, I can’t see Kuron not leaving the team at some point (at least temporarily). Just like how I can’t imagine Lotor staying either. Also, I really do think they want to…throw in Black Paladin Keith for a bit more before the real Shiro comes back (and maybe even lead into copilot sheith?) But yeah, we have every indication that the show runners originally wanted to use Shiro to really push for Keith’s leadership arc:

Lauren: “Obviously in the original he was the leader guy, and we just wanted to start him in a different place. He looks up to Shiro, but he’s definitely not the leader that Shiro is at all. And so he’s got a lot to learn. He’s still very impulsive, very rash, and he’s got a hot temper.” (source)

Joaquim: “We had seen Shiro as a conduit for allowing Keith to rise to the leadership role…” (source)

Lauren: “For instance, way back when we thought we were going to be able to have Shiro exit the show at the end of our Netflix Season Two, we had every intention of Keith being the leader. The team working together and growing throughout the rest of the show, struggling with their differences, but ultimately gelling as a team. We ended up not being able to do that because we needed to bring Shiro back, but the weird thing is that it created these other storylines that are interesting in their own way.

But now we have this storyline that we didn’t expect to happen with this Keith and Shiro dual leadership friction. And Keith going off and leaving, following his way to Marmora, which is something we would have explored a little bit. We definitely would have gone into the Blade of Marmora and found Keith’s family, but not necessarily in the way you see it now.” (source)

Lauren: “I think in our attempt to–because ultimately, what happened is [Shiro] was supposed to exit stage left but we ended up needing to keep him around. And so we needed to factor in something interesting about him so that he wasn’t just the perfect guy who solves everyone’s problems. This is us doing some damage control.”

Josh: “…I just like that these characters are continually evolving. So they’re changing all the time. Even Keith, now, as we discussed, he’s sort of filling this other void that he had that was giving him shortcomings as a leader. So maybe he’ll be able to fill those gaps. And that goes along for every other character as well.” (source)

You get the idea. As for “our” Shiro, I think his real self is either 1) trapped in the Astral Plane, or 2) trapped in this interim between dimensions and just sort of keeps shifting through. We know already that Shiro knew about Daibazaal’s destruction before anyone else–because Black told him. More than that, she showed him. But why? Why take Keith to the ruins of Daibazaal and show him the comet and Voltron’s formation? To what end? The whole time, Shiro kept saying, “Show me more.”

But Black never gets to finish. In all honesty, I think she was trying to tell him the whole story. To show him how Daibazaal got destroyed in the first place, and relay that the rift–as Lotor said–is still there. I think she knew the only way to permanently seal the rift. Which is why she took him to the site of Daibazaal–this is where you need to go. During the fight with Zarkon, I think she tried to send him there to really finish the job. Time to beat the final boss. But something went wrong, and the teleportation between realities was distorted. Kind of like how Haggar

The other–much simpler answer–is that Shiro was in dire danger during the fight so, like Keith suggested, the Black Lion teleported him to save his life. But again, something went wrong, and Shiro wound up trapped in the astral plane instead. But either way, I think Keith is going to have to be the one to make contact with Shiro and save him. This ties back into the overarching theme of Keith and Shiro’s intimacy and Keith’s vow to save him, “As many times as it takes.” Ultimately, I believe this will culminate in a choice at the end of the series will Keith will be forced to choose between saving Shiro and defending the universe. This also nicely echoes–1) the story of zaggar and how Zarkon had to choose between sacrificing Honerva or his planet, and 2) the end of the original 80’s Voltron, in which Ryou Shirogane/Shiro is captured by Sincline/Lotor and Akira/Keith must choose between saving him and Voltron. Take a wild guess, but yeah–Keith’s like “fuck the giant robot I’m not letting him die.”

In the end, Ryou ends up making the choice for him and sacrificing himself for the greater good. However, considering that in stories like this successors are meant to surpass their predecessors, I don’t believe Keith will fall into the same trap as Zarkon before him. As someone who’s said things like, “Maybe things aren’t so black and white,” I believe Keith will be able to find another way, some third answer that allows him to save both Shiro and the universe. After all, as I’ve talked about in many meta before, the lesson Keith needs to learn is not that he must let go of Shiro. Because, after Kerberos, Keith never really moved on. If the idea here was that he had to, then why have him endure a second grieving process–have him grapple with the agony of that loss all over–just to give Shiro back and then unceremoniously whisk him away again. If the lesson here is, you need to give up on him, you need to mourn and move on, then Shiro would not have come back. Season 3 is Keith’s chance to finally accept that grieving process, but he doesn’t. He ultimately rejects it, and this only strengthens his resolve to find Shiro–no matter what.

Consider also Keith’s background–“Shiro’s the one person who never gave up on me. I won’t give up on him.” All his life, Keith has pushed others away for fear of rejection, a fact he outright confirms in his vlog. So the fact that Shiro is his one constant, his one and only, the person he “desperately wants to see”…this isn’t about loss and moving on. If you look at how willing Keith is to sacrifice himself for others’ sakes, that much is clear. All his life, Keith’s never even considered the possibility he would be able to stay with someone, that someone would show him the unconditional love he’s found with Shiro. And he fully expects he won’t be able to keep that–“[Keith’s] constantly scared that he’s gonna do something or say something wrong and he’s gonna lose Shiro.” (source) Keith’s lesson isn’t to let Shiro go, to turn down this one positive constant in his life.

This is even more compelling when you look at the bigger picture–Keith’s feelings. Always, Keith has taken to suppressing them. He’s outright ashamed of his own emotions. We know galra experience very intense, volatile emotions, and for Keith, that’s clearly taken its toll. In fact, it seems Shiro is the only one capable of really anchoring Keith through this sensory overload. He even provides physical affirmations of comfort and gives Keith grounding methods like, “Patience yields focus.” And in Shiro’s absence, Keith becomes grievously affected by those overwhelming emotions:

Joaquim: “He latches onto Shiro at times because Shiro’s sort of the only thing that can really calm him down and keep him in check.” (source).

Joaquim: “[Keith’s] got this emotional side to him.”

Lauren: “It’s kind of exasperated by the fact that Shiro’s gone. Like he’s having a hard time dealing with it, he doesn’t really know how to feel. And I think he just goes back to that inner part of himself where it’s just—he can’t control his emotions. And that comes from the galra side.” (source).

Why was Keith booted from the garrison?

Joaquim: “You know why Iverson has a closed eye permanently? There you go. He was, you know…not really knowing how to cope with his galra side, so. He raged out a little–”

Lauren: “Yeah, and he was not coping well with the loss of Shiro. Things take an impact and maybe he got a little…a little out of hand.” (source).

“I am…sorry. I am so sorry I, I guess—I have a bit of a temper, so…I don’t know why I’m that way.” Time and again, during season 3, Keith is told he must put his own feelings aside for the sake of the mission: “But you know that he would be the first one to tell you to move on.” “But our mission is bigger than any one individual.” And later, from the BOM–“The mission is more important than the individual.” Most damning of all: “You cannot allow your feelings to cloud your judgement. You have in the past.” Always, Keith is forced to bottle up his feelings, to stamp out his emotions and put the mission first. He already knows loss and sacrifice, and these are not the lessons he needs to learn. They’ve brought him nothing but pain and suffering.

What he really needs, is to realize that he feelings and personal attachments aren’t damaging, that these things and eventual happiness are all attainable for him and he doesn’t have to choose between his heart and some abstract greater good. If he follows in Zarkon’s footsteps, then we sell the story that love is fundamentally selfish and wrong, whereas for Shiro and Keith it’s proven to be a healing balm. Ultimately, Keith will save Shiro–and in doing so, prove that one’s love can be their salvation. This in turn rings true for Shiro as well, as he’s always been so ready to martyr himself for a cause. He never expected to make it out of this alive–“They’ve found me,” “Keith, if something happens to me, I want you to lead Voltron.”

Keith is that spark that lights a fire. He’s always encouraging Shiro to keep fighting, to keep moving on. Always urging him forward, convincing him time and again he’s the true Black Paladin, never rushing his recovery and only ever wanting what’s best for him. Keith’s saved his life in more ways than one, because Keith really does believe he’ll get through this. “You’re gonna make it.” Keith gives him hope. And to kill him off when so much of his character development is integral to that? It just would just be such a loss.

And while I hope to see Shiro either return to his role as Black Paladin or copilot with Keith, there still stands the elephant in the room. The final fight, so to speak. That rift must be sealed–and I have a bad feeling someone’s going to need to stay on the other side to do it. Again, I think Shiro is the one Black was trying to convince to seal the rift. So we might see him decide to make that choice to stay behind. Again, I can’t imagine Keith ever leaving him though, and imagine it’s very possible that the two might both end up sealed away on the other side of the rift, unable to return to their own reality. But at least they still have each other.

#sheith #keith #voltron #shiro #takashi shirogane

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theseventhhex · 6 years ago

Text

Gulp Interview

Lindsey Leven & Guto Pryce

Photo by Mary Wycherly

Gulp, formed by Super Furry Animals’ Guto Pryce and Lindsey Leven are back with their new album ‘All Good Wishes’. Gulp are on a journey, a state of perpetual transition. The band make mini Kraut-pop epics, informed equally by the sun flares of the Californian desert and the drizzle of pure, sweet Scottish rain and northern light. ‘All Good Wishes’ half-inches its title from a vintage Scottish postcard and it’s emblematic of the changes the pair have undergone. It’s partly a farewell to Wales, and hello to Scotland. The record was largely built in South Wales, a three-year process that saw the band retreat to their basement for endless sonic incisions and revisions. A broader, wider, perhaps bolder experience than their debut, ‘All Good Wishes’ is rooted in fantastic pop songwriting, in creating three minute vignettes that express complex ideas in a simple, accessible and endlessly fascinating way… We talk to Guto about restraint, fatherhood and long drives…

TSH: Did you have the intention of wanting a specific contrast in sound with ‘All Good Wishes’?

Guto: Yes, definitely. We wanted the album to be cohesive as a whole, which meant we were playing around with a lot of ideas in terms of arrangements. A change in instrumentation with this album was important because we wanted to switch things up. I guess this is why we decided to use more synths.

TSH: Were the songs mostly being layered and built up via vocal lines?

Guto: Yes, mostly vocal hooks are often a starting points for us. Then again, at times even a cool synth sound, a beat or a groove can set the tone for a song. It varies all the time and there’s no real set method. Although we didn’t have a drummer this time around so we wrote drum parts that were a lot simpler.

TSH: What lead to you aiming for more restraint within your music?

Guto: After taking a break from Super Furry Animals, I started to play in a band called Spectrum with Sonic Boom from Spacemen 3. I was a huge fan and it was a dream come true to be playing with my favourite band. Anyhow, Sonic Boom uses a lot of restraint, which I really found to be so intriguing. His music is very extreme and it can be very distorted and very repetitive, but I just like the way it cruises. I guess there’s a lot to admire in what you don’t play.

TSH: Was Lindsey focusing on characters with her lyrical perspectives?

Guto: Yeah, she reads a lot and likes to explore the minds of certain characters. Also, both of us share a connection with filmic elements and we wanted to evoke emotions of a road trip and panoramic type of views. We wanted to make something fantastical and create a scene in n a way.

TSH: What do you recall about ‘Beam’ coming together?

Guto: We really enjoyed forming this track. Mixing a traditional folk/60s type of song with synths was a nice direction to take. You know, ‘Beam’ is quite a simple song but we wanted to make it unique. We could have done it in a reverb drenched 60s type of way, but we wanted to experiment and make it distinct. I really enjoyed the tremolo guitar inclusion. Also, we wanted to bring to mind a Vangelis Blade Runner type of feel - you’re not sort of sure when it’s set - it feels like it’s from the future, yet it echoes to the past too.

TSH: Tell us more about ‘Claudia’ being in relation to a comic book that was picked up in New York...

Guto: Yeah, you get all these small comic stores in New York. When you go to the till there’s a pile of hand drawn comics available. I guess aspiring artists put them there for you to take, but it’s all quite anonymous as to whose put them there. Also, this was pre-internet days and you couldn’t just Google an artist’s name. Anyhow, it was something Lindsey picked up. The comic is long lost and the main character didn’t have a name, but she tried to catch the moon so Lindsey named her Claudia.

TSH: How did you feel overall having sat on this record for quite a while before releasing it?

Guto: Yeah, it took three years from when we began recording to actually releasing it. It’s been a year since it’s been mixed and we’ve been living with it for a long time. We’ve released it on our own label without a huge machine behind us, but we like it this way. I’m really proud of this album and it kind of feels funny being so familiar with something and then letting it go. Essentially, we make music for ourselves more than anything, but we do appreciate it being out there for others to interpret in their own ways.

TSH: Do you find that residing in Scotland gives you a particular type of outlook on life?

Guto: Yeah, totally. Scotland is such a big country with so little people. Even if you take a drive five minutes out of town you find yourself on an empty road. Oh, and the light here is amazing! It’s so different to the west coast of Wales where I’m from, which is dramatic and rainy. Scotland reminds me of America. I don’t know what makes the sky so big but it seems to be the case out here all of the time.

TSH: What are the most rewarding aspects of fatherhood?

Guto: It’s amazing to see the instinctive joy that music brings to a baby. Whenever music is played his attention is immediately drawn to it, with smiles. Baby smiles are the best!

TSH: How do you like to obtain a positive state of mind outside of music?

Guto: Going for a long drive in beautiful scenery is always good. The ocean and mountains put everything into perspective.

TSH: What are your interests when you’re not engaged in music?

Guto: Real ale.

TSH: Finally, what are the main features that you want to maintain with future Gulp material?

Guto: To continue exploring the fantasy sounds and songs in our heads. We have a lot of ideas that we have yet to translate into recordings.

Gulp - “I Dream Of Your Song”

Gulp - “Morning Velvet Sky”

All Good Wishes

#Interview #Gulp #Guto Pryce #Super Furry Animals

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linelpisffxiv · 6 years ago

Text

Fixed RS stuff.

Since I’m really eh about what Shadowbringers... well... brings.

There’s so much DARKNESS NO PARENTS and Lin’s done with that shit. Been there, done that, got the split personalities. If her choice is the whole Warrior of Darkness shit, well, she’s glad Light is Not Good and Dark is Not Evil are in play, but she’s bored with these stories and tired of saving people. She has half a dozen friends who can do it. Including and especially M’yrr, who has the strongest echo of all her friends, and arguably stronger than hers (and has the Blessing of Light)

Alphinaud hasn’t been to Ishgard in some time. There hasn’t been reason. Not after the Scions were needed in Gyr Abania, Othard, and his own adventures into Garlemald with the Shadohunter (He knows the man’s name, but it feels too wrong to ever say it).

So when he hears that the Marchers have decided to help with the reconstruction if Ishgard, he decides it is something that the Scions have some resources to give as well.

From a distance, the city still dominates the skyline, layer upon layer of ancient architecture that represents a war settled by Aymeric.

Something causes the back of his neck to chill, like that day long ago when he came as a refugee. But now? He was in something meant for the weather, a scarf tight around his neck.

Tataru is by his side. She glows at the chance to offer her skills to the effort. And he’s decided to help her as well. After all that has gone down, he longs for something much simpler to do as a Scion.

Guards glance at him. One turns his head away only to look again. The man’s eyes are wide. He tugs at his pale yellow collar and tries to leave, only for the woman with the green collar to hold him by her side.

“We welcome help from everyone,” she says. “And I believe I remember the Scions. To see you helping us after everything is amazing. Please, I’m sure Lady Greystone will speak with you personally.”

He coughs. In part due to the cold, but it brings memories. He heard A’lin claim that title a few times as a joke, or when she was at her angriest.

But she had passed after the news of what sustained her husband. Sacrificed herself.

This Lady Greystone must be another house’s bastard.

“Is something wrong, Master Levellieur?” The one with Durendaire’s sigil asks.”Certainly we can have you and Mistress Taru escorted personally to the area.”

He shakes his head. “It is nothing. I would rather offer my services as any other. We are not above them in any fashion.”

He walks along the same path as the adventurers. While many choose to fight, during times of peace, they find other methods to make coin, and what Ishgard offers should bring the best of the best in those areas.

The city has a warmth to it. The same buildings as before, but all the people bustling around add color Foundation missed. He can see the bridges of the Pillars above, but it almost seems like more sun shines through than before, as if the pathways were narrowed to open the skies to all.

“Alphi! Stop!” Tataru cries, but it’s too late. By the time he hears it, his face hits something hard.

There’s a proper sack, so whatever is in there won’t leave more of a scar than a bruise. All of it is white. Linen perhaps? Or maybe hemp. It’s strong, but seems too smooth for hemp.

“What’re you doing here?” he hears.

He recognizes the voice immediately. One of Lin’s old friends. He thought they all were more of the fighting kind of adventurer. At least M’yrr and Arran are. And the others follow them.

The sack turns, and he has to face the red-haired miqo’te. Rakka is the name he went by.

“The Scions wish to offer our services to the restoration and modernization of Ishgard, just as we have with Ala Mhigo and Doma. Aymeric holds the city is still part of the Alliance, so we shall offer aid in civil times as much as war.” It’s overly fancy, especially given what he remembers of the Marcher, but hopefully it answers. “And you?”

Rakka’s eyes narrow. “Lady Greystone asked for the Marcher’s support herself. And as much as I enjoy a good fight, I like the feel of a pick in my hands on a hot day more. Some of the others have offered their own skills with finer things as well.”

In all honesty, Alphinaud is stuck on the first bit. This woman asked for their help. Specifically. What ties do they have? He mostly knows only the handful who were A’lin’s friends, but knows it was free company fifty strong, at least. Perhaps a different Marcher had the tie. Just because Rakka is the first he notices does not mean he’s one she asked for.

“She’s not going to like the promise of goods though,” Rakka continues. “It’s better if you came with something.”

“I would rather ask what we can offer. I would hate to bring something only for it to be refused.”

Rakka rolls his eyes and mutters something under his breath. Alphinaud cannot hear. “I guess you can follow me, though if she gets mad, I’m claiming I had no idea.”

Alphinaud just shrugs. Rakka always seems a bit naive and chipper. Maybe there’s something he wants out of this that changes his mood.

Maybe it’s the name of the woman. Lady Greystone. That must hit close even now. Of all the Marchers, he was the closest to A’lin. From what Tataru said, he spent the times she met with Minfilia sitting in a chair across from Tataru waiting for her to return. Hells, they were friends before the rest of the Marchers came in.

He’s pulled from his mindless following of Rakka by what has to be an apparition. A Miqo’te woman wanders against the travels of the adventurers. She smiles and thanks each one, dressed in a fashionable coat and dress. The dark greens A’lin always favored, but with the golden trim of house Fortemps. The brown hair has returned to the long curls she sported for her wedding, though the dyed tips have gone to a yellower shade.

As she draws close, she starts to speak to Rakka, only to pause and look his way instead. Her red eyes narrow. There’s two quick blinks, and her mouth hangs open before she purses her lips (painted a brilliant red)

“Master Levellieur. It has been some time. I did not expect the Scions to offer help in my project. I asked for adventurers.”

Her voice is the same. Especially the frost the leaves her lips. It has been too long since he had been the target of the chill her anger could bring.

He dips into a bow, hiding his own blushing cheeks. She led him to believe her dead, yet here she was. How could one of the city-states keep her such a secret? She doesn’t seem to hide the truth in any fashion. “Lady Greystone? I ah, Tataru and I wished to offer whatever services the Scions can to the growth of Ishgard, as we have done to Gyr Abania and--”

“I need smiths, clothiers, culinarians, not swordsmen. Lumberfolk and Miners, not Marauders. The Scions have my respect even now, but this is a civil matter. We have what few fighters we’ll need to protect those who head to remote areas of Coerthas and Dravania.”

“If this is about those last few days,” Tataru says. “Please know we have no desire to recruit a woman who faked her death to leave us. And know that I can sew for you. Please, Lin.”

She hums. There’s a calm chill to the words. Warmer than the dressing down she’s just given, but it’s still not the voice of a friend to him. He stands back up from his bow.

Rakka has gotten farther away from them. It seems he intends to keep those words.

“You and your friends do amazing work, Tataru,” A’lin says. “I had thought of commissioning you all a few times, but my ties to my house’s treasury were far from enough. You understand this venture is one where you give, not sell?”

Tataru nods. “Please. It has been far too long. I miss my adventures in the Forgotten Knight. I wonder if the same men still visit, and if they would remember me.”

A’lin smiles. There’s a tenseness to her. “Then I suppose I shall accept the Scions help in my endeavors.” She holds out her hand. “Thank you, Tataru, for your donations, when they come. If you’d like the measurements we intend to create for, I can send a list to the Rising Stones. You still use that location, no?”

Tataru takes the hand. “I would much rather receive such a note now, so I can have my friends start purchasing what we’ll need.” She grins. “Also, there must be a good time for you to have a meal with us. From the reports, it must have been difficult to fake your death. Especially as a public figure here.”

She grins at those words and shakes Tataru’s hand vigorously. “Tea. The foyer of Fortemps Mansion. Two bells from now. My husband and I shall be there. For now, I have a reconstruction effort to run, and I intend to be more than a figurehead. Levellieur can come too.”

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harrisjv · 6 years ago

Text

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juliehbutler · 8 years ago

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What To Do When You Eat Healthy But Can’t Lose Weight

“Help! I can’t lose weight even though I eat real food. Most of my meals include lean protein and lots of veggies. The other foods I eat are fruits, low fat dairy, nuts, beans, and whole grains. I rarely eat sugar or junk food. Why can’t I lose weight?”

That’s an email from a reader of this website, and I’ve received countless ones like it. Many clients make a similar statement at the beginning of our working relationship about eating right but not being able to lose weight. The first course of action I tell them to take: “For the next week record everything you eat and drink; nibbles, tastes, and sips count. You don’t need to record the calories, just what you eat. For example: chicken breast, mixed veggies, a handful of M&Ms, and a cup of green tea, or whatever the case may be. Record every item.”

A week of this practice leaves many flabbergasted. Turns out they in fact do not eat the way they proclaimed in the initial email/conversation. A sleeve of Girl Scout cookies snuck its way onto the list, several slices of pizza, daily trips to the candy bowl at work, a bottle of wine on Friday night followed by a pint of ice cream, and the occasional 20-ounce soda appeared on the food log.

Sometimes people forget, or simply omit, certain foods and drinks from memory. By recording everything for a week, they see their food and beverage consumption in black and white, so there’s no denying what’s really going on.

This is why one of the first steps I recommend for someone who claims to have trouble losing weight is to record their food and drink intake for a week to get an idea of their average consumption (this works for building muscle and improving overall health, too). This hard data provides a framework going forward. How do you know what to correct if you don’t know where you need the most improvement? The food log provides this answer.

This exercise is not meant to conjure feelings of guilt for the foods you eat. Using the example from above the woman was quick to declare, “I feel terrible about myself and how much I failed” when sharing the food log with me. The purpose of the food log is to make you aware of what’s going on. This is a judgement-free exercise. We see what’s really happening (via the food log) and decide on the simplest changes to implement first.

My response when she declared to have “failed” was: “No, you didn’t fail and you shouldn’t feel bad. We have data and know what’s going on. Now we can make simple changes so you can get the results you want.”

Here’s what we do.

Having Trouble Losing Fat? Try This.

If you’ve tried counting calories and other typical diets, you may want to try this simple approach. More often than not, it works.

Step 1: Track everything you eat and drink for the next week. Do this during a typical week; for example, don’t do this if you happen to be traveling or on vacation. You want a picture of an average week of eating.

Step 2a: Using the results from the food log, identify the simplest changes to make that will lead you in the right direction (e.g., fat loss). Perhaps you realize you eat processed foods and snacks at lunch during the week. A simple change would be to take a real food lunch to work each day, and bring healthy snacks (e.g., nuts and fruit, Greek yogurt, etc.) to keep on hand too.

Convenience oftentimes (i.e., most of the time) wins over what’s “best,” so set yourself up for success and have good stuff within easy reach.

Step 2b: Get enough protein. Build your meals and snacks around a good source of protein, and aim for .7 to 1 gram of protein per pound of bodyweight each day. (If you’re obese use that guideline for a lower bodyweight you’re trying to attain. E.g.: if you weigh 230 pounds and want to get to 180, use 180 to calculate the .7-1 gram guideline.) You’ll have to track and count this at first, but after a couple weeks you’ll know how much protein the foods you eat most often have and it’ll be much easier.

Step 3: Implement the changes from Steps 2a and 2b, and keep another food log for a week or two. This way, once again, you know exactly what’s going on. Ideally you’ll have successfully practiced the simple change from 2a and increased protein intake every day of the week.

Helpful tip: I’m not suggesting you should avoid your favorite not-super-healthy foods (I despise labels like “cheat” or “dirty” — there’s just food) because that oftentimes leads to binge eating or disordered eating habits (and I know from years of personal experience with both). You can still enjoy things like pizza or ice cream or whatever you enjoy most. Either enjoy those foods less frequently and/or control the portions.

For example, I used to order a small pizza and eat the entire thing. Now, I split a small pizza and have a salad on the side. This way I’m still enjoying a favorite food, but not in the unnecessarily large quantity I used to. It’s not about depriving yourself and trying to be super disciplined and avoiding certain foods — just be smart and keep things simple by limiting the frequency you eat them, or decrease the portions.

Are you the kind of person who wants something sweet every day? Find ways to indulge your sweet tooth by either a) limiting the portion size as discussed above or b) choose lower calorie substitutes. Pay attention to the term “lower calorie substitute” and notice I didn’t say “healthy.” A lot of “healthy” dessert recipes still have the same number of calories (sometimes more) than the “unhealthy” foods they replace.

Here’s a great image from Dr. Spencer Nadolsky to bring this example to life.

Some argue the Justin’s option is “better for you,” but the calories are the same. Don’t let marketing or nutrition gurus fool you into believing the “healthier” version will help you lose fat and improve your health. Even though you may be eating better-for-you foods with the “healthier” options, calories matter when weight loss is the goal.

An example for lower calorie substitutes: swap out ice cream for a pudding cup or a few squares of chocolate, or whatever the hell your taste buds prefer. Drink your favorite diet soda to appease your sweet tooth. Lately I’ve been wanting to chow down on cookies and ice cream; while I enjoy these foods once or twice a week, I don’t want to get in the habit of eating them every day. I’ve been drinking a calorie-free soda a few times per week and that tames my current sweet tooth. (Diet soda may increase the craving for sweets for some people, but for others, like me, it’s nice when I want something sweet.)

Nutrition can be simple, if we allow it to be. It doesn’t have to be a stressful all (eat “perfectly” all the time) or nothing (slip up and then continue to make poor choices because you “screwed up anyway”) mentality.

The goal with nutrition should be to develop long-lasting, sustainable behaviors. The changes you make today need to be changes you can continue to practice a year from now. This way the improved body composition and health results you achieve next month will be maintained next year. You can count calories or macros or use traditional dieting methods if you prefer, but if you’ve tried those methods to no avail or want to try something simpler, give the alternative above a try for a few months and see what happens.

Note: want more detailed nutrition information than I provide here? Go to those who know their stuff: Precision Nutrition, Alan Aragon, Leigh Peele, Georgie Fear.

Related Article: 5 Health and Fitness Principles That Don’t Suck

What About People Who do Eat Healthy And Can’t Lose Weight?

Rarely, in my experience, has someone actually eaten nothing but meat, veggies and fruits, whole grains, and other real foods as shown via a food log and claimed they couldn’t lose weight. If this did happen it was usually because they were eating larger-than-realized quantities of calorie-dense foods like nuts, nut butters, and things like coconut oil (there’s this current obsession with coconut oil being deemed a “superfood” and some women are convinced they need to put it on, and in, everything).

If this is the case — someone is eating mostly real food but can’t lose weight* — I look for the simplest solution, and this one seems to work well: reduce the amount of fat-dense foods (put a serving size of nuts in a bowl instead of eating from the container, for example); omit fat-dense foods (stop putting coconut oil on everything, for goodness’ sake); swap a fat-dense food for a protein-rich food (Greek yogurt instead of full-fat cheese). These are simple ways to reduce calories, thereby allowing weight loss to begin.

And if by some chance you’ve been convinced to put butter and coconut oil in your coffee — stop doing that. Boom. You just eliminated hundreds of calories from your daily intake. (And avoid such health and fitness bullshit going forward.)

*Note: if you have unexplained weight gain, weight loss, or reducing calories isn’t producing weight loss, go see your doctor. Get blood work and see if there’s an underlying issue that needs to be addressed.

Another Option: Stop Focusing on Weight Loss

Guess what: you don’t have to focus on losing fat. You can focus on something else like, oh, I don’t know, getting stronger and eating things that make you feel great. Instead of thinking about all the foods you “shouldn’t” eat focus on the abundant variety of awesome foods you can eat. Instead of looking at exercise as a means to just burn calories it can be something you do to feel awesome and unleash your body’s potential.

Believe it or not, fitness doesn’t have to be about getting abs, a rounder butt, torching fat, or fixing flaws. I’m not saying those goals are bad — you should do whatever the hell you want with your body — but those things can be a means to an end instead of an end themselves. In other words: make getting stronger in the gym a priority and eating more of the things that are great for you the focus in the kitchen. Allow weight loss to be a side-effect.

Like what you read? Never miss a thing — sign up below to receive the newsletter. You’ll get the Beautiful Badass Mini Course as a free gift.

The post What To Do When You Eat Healthy But Can’t Lose Weight appeared first on Nia Shanks.

from Healthy Living http://www.niashanks.com/eat-healthy-cant-lose-weight/

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sarahzlukeuk · 8 years ago

Text

What To Do When You Eat Healthy But Can’t Lose Weight

Here’s what we do.

Having Trouble Losing Fat? Try This.

If you’ve tried counting calories and other typical diets, you may want to try this simple approach. More often than not, it works.

Convenience oftentimes (i.e., most of the time) wins over what’s “best,” so set yourself up for success and have good stuff within easy reach.

Here’s a great image from Dr. Spencer Nadolsky to bring this example to life.

Note: want more detailed nutrition information than I provide here? Go to those who know their stuff: Precision Nutrition, Alan Aragon, Leigh Peele, Georgie Fear.

Related Article: 5 Health and Fitness Principles That Don’t Suck

What About People Who do Eat Healthy And Can’t Lose Weight?

Another Option: Stop Focusing on Weight Loss

Like what you read? Never miss a thing — sign up below to receive the newsletter. You’ll get the Beautiful Badass Mini Course as a free gift.

The post What To Do When You Eat Healthy But Can’t Lose Weight appeared first on Nia Shanks.

from Sarah Luke Fitness Updates http://www.niashanks.com/eat-healthy-cant-lose-weight/

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learnspanishfans · 8 years ago

Text

Portuguese in 3 Months Mission: 2 Month Update

This is an update to Holly’s Portuguese in 3 Months mission.

In my last update, I filled you in on the first month of my Portuguese in 3 months mission. During that month, I discovered quite a few listening resources, had several talks with native speakers, and adjusted some of my personal expectations along the way.

In this update, I’ll discuss my second month, how it differed from month one, and how I overcame some of the challenges I was faced with.

I’ll also share the my two-month video.

Let’s get started!

New Portuguese Study Resources

A LOT of my time throughout my mission was spent researching and trying out different Portuguese resources. I don’t know if I’m just picky, but quite a few resources just didn’t work for me, so I abandoned them and tried again.

PortuguesePod101 was my top go-to course for most of my mission. However, I actually took a two-week break from it this month because I started to get sick of the repetitiveness after binging on so many lessons in such a short time (In my first five weeks, I burned through all the lessons in lower beginner and upper beginner seasons 1 and 2). This isn’t a knock against the product; it’s just a side-effect of depending too much on a single resource.

The Portuguese Language Resources I Used in Month 2

So I branched out more this month to find other ways to improve my Portuguese:

Practice Portuguese

Practice Portuguese is a free European Portuguese podcast for upper-beginner and intermediate students.

I fell in love with the format after listening to a few episodes. It’s presented in 100% Portuguese, so there’s no time wasted listening to English (though I discovered later that some of their most recent episodes do feature some English, to help lower-beginner Portuguese students).

There are different types of episodes: “artigo” (article), “atualidade” (news), “diálogo” (dialogue) and more. The host speaks very slowly and clearly, which is especially useful if you’re not familiar with the European Portuguese accent. The “artigo” episodes are my favourite, because they’re always read twice: once slowly, and once quickly. I also like that there are no vocab lists dictated, and no grammar drills in any of the episodes. You just get to listen to natural spoken Portuguese for a small chunk of time – not too much to be overwhelming.

Semantica Portuguese

Semantica Portuguese is a video course in Brazilian Portuguese.

It has 25 free episodes on iTunes. They’re meant to be watched in order because they follow a storyline, the way a TV series does. This keeps you coming back because you’ll want to know what happens next. I could definitely see the potential of this course, but ultimately I decided not to go forward with a subscription.

Most of my Portuguese studying has been done away from a screen (such as through audio lessons, podcasts and Portuguese music), and I wanted to keep it that way. But if you prefer a visual approach from time to time, definitely give this course a try.

The Conta-me Tudo (“Tell Me Everything”) Podcast

I wanted the Conta-me Tudo (“Tell Me Everything”) podcast to work out for me, I really did.

The premise is fascinating: in each episode, an ordinary person gives a talk to a live audience about an incredible, funny, scary, or life-changing story that happened to them. The topics are extremely varied, from improbable love stories to travel disasters.

Every episode summary looked so interesting that I wanted to listen to it just for the story, never mind improving my Portuguese! But I listened to five episodes, and try as I might, I couldn’t pick out enough words to get the gist of any of the stories. But this podcast was super motivational to me. My new long-term goal in the language is to reach a good-enough level to be able to understand this podcast. Once I do, I’m coming straight back to listen to every episode!

More TV Shows

I watched several episodes of Got Talent Brazil, but I kept coming back to Got Talent Portugal, probably because I know that show better and am used to the judges. I also found an episode of the kids’ show Caillou in Portuguese!

Audio Flashcards

I’ll share a little more on these in a moment.

How Editing My Portuguese Mission Videos Helped My Language Learning

Editing and adding subtitles to my videos was a surprisingly big help.

As I played and replayed sections of my month-one video to hear the dialogue, I noticed many of my mistakes for the first time. For example, I pronounced the word “frequently” as “frequemente” instead of “frequentemente” several times. (I blame my French knowledge for this mistake – in French, the word is “fréquemment”, NOT “fréquentement”.) I wasn’t aware I was doing it until I listened to myself speaking Portuguese.

After hearing that and my other mistakes from the video – over and over in painfully clear slow motion as I typed out the subtitles – I can assure you I never made those mistakes again!

I highly recommend to anyone studying a foreign language to watch yourself speaking the language on video.

When you’re speaking in the moment, you don’t notice all of your mistakes, but you’ll easily catch them when you listen to yourself on tape. It’s a very useful exercise. Don’t worry, you’ll get over the cringe factor pretty quickly.

Was it a Mistake to Avoid Reading and Writing?

A key part of my Portuguese mission is learning through listening and speaking. As far as possible, I’ve avoided resources that involve reading and writing.

When I found good Portuguese audio or video resources to study, it was very motivating. But searching for good resources sometimes took so long that it became frustrating.

Hunting for fun and motivating things to listen to wasn’t easy. Sometimes it was a big waste of time. Especially with music.

I listened to hours of music by Legião Urbana, Mariza, Titãs and more, trying to find songs that I liked enough to memorize. That’s where my motivation slipped the most, because none of the music really clicked with me. However, I did eventually find a few fun songs this month. I memorized one of them: “Balada do Desajeitado” (Ballad of clumsiness/awkwardness/ungainliness…the word doesn’t translate very well) by D.A.M.A.:

//www.youtube.com/watch?v=DcfSEeovjcE

Memorizing this song was hard! It goes fast, and a lot of syllables are eaten up for the sake of rhythm. But I feel that learning this song improved my speaking skills quite a bit. I started to feel comfortable “glossing over” certain words and pronouncing them more naturally, much like an English language student might learn to say “gonna” instead of “going to”.

My Feelings at the Halfway Point of My Portuguese Mission

Around the six-week mark of my mission, I sat down to reflect on my progress so far. Certainly, I was very happy with my progress to date.

Here are some of my thoughts:

Does No-Reading-or-Writing Really Work?

Honestly, when I first started this mission, I had no idea if a no-reading-or-writing approach would work at all!

It was a big experiment for me. But I was happy to see that I was making more progress than I had in all of my other language attempts in the previous 15 years. For the first time, I wasn’t treating listening comprehension as an afterthought – and it was working.

I Did Have One Achilles Heel…

There was one area that I could tell I was weak in. It’s yet another area that I’ve always had trouble with in every language I’ve studied: vocabulary. See, I’m kind of a grammar nerd, and grammar rules tend to come naturally to me. Vocabulary has always been a bigger struggle. And my listening-only approach to learning Portuguese didn’t offer any new solutions to this problem. TV shows and podcasts exposed me to vast amounts of new vocabulary, but didn’t do much to reinforce the words so I could reproduce them later.

Knowing French was definitely a big help when it came to guessing new words in Portuguese conversation, but that would only take me so far. I realized that if I wanted to memorize new words, and not just French cognates, I’d better put some more effort into vocabulary. But how to do this without making long vocab lists to read and drill until I memorized them?

That’s when I discovered audio flashcards…

Audio Flashcards – My New Superpower!

I’d considered creating audio flashcards at the beginning of my mission, but I hadn’t yet gotten around to it. It seemed like too much work!

But now that I could see that vocabulary was a sticking point in my progress, I was finally motivated to do it.

Here’s what I did:

A good flashcard app will let you record sound to go with your text flashcards. Anki is a great app for this purpose if you use Android or a personal computer for your flashcards. For iOS, Anki is a little pricey for some people, so Flashcards Deluxe is a good substitute.

There are some online guides for how to load mp3 files into your Anki decks. With this method, you can take clips of words and phrases spoken by a native speaker or an audio dictionary so you’ll be sure they’re pronounced correctly. I took the simpler route of using the app’s built-in record button to record my own voice speaking the English, Brazilian Portuguese and European Portuguese translations for each card (yes, you can make three-sided cards in both Anki and Flashcards Deluxe!). This proved to be the quickest and easiest way for me – I was up and using my first set of audio flashcards within half an hour.

To keep with my no-reading-or-writing goal, I didn’t want to have any Portuguese or English writing in my flashcard deck. I didn’t want to associate the audio with any visual reference in my mind.

I know from experience that long after I become fluent in a foreign language, I still find myself imagining words written down before I say them, and having to picture the words that native speakers say before they “click” for me in conversation. I didn’t want to have this obstacle in Portuguese. So instead of a standard three-sided flashcard, which might look, for example, like this:

Side 1: “Did you like it?”

Side 2: “Tu gostaste?”

Side 3: “Você gostou?”

My flashcards all looked exactly the same:

Side 1: “English”

Side 2: “European Portuguese”

Side 3: “Brazilian Portuguese”

To know what was on each card, I would have to press Play to hear the audio. I couldn’t “cheat” and see the written words. I had no choice but to rely on my ears only. This worked wonderfully for me.

In fact, there was only one drawback to the way I created my flashcards, though really it was more of an advantage. Before pressing record for each phrase I wanted to learn, I practised the line several times so I would say it right (I did read the written Portuguese for this part, to be sure I was saying it correctly). Well, after all that work of practising each line and recording it, I sat down to use my flashcards and found I had already memorized about two thirds of the deck! Oops, I guess? So the next day I made a new deck and recorded longer, harder phrases to learn.

No matter which type of flashcards you make – audio, written, or even image-based – when you’re studying, always say the target words and phrases out loud before flipping over the card to see/hear the answer.

Portuguese in 3 Months: My Two-Month Update Video

Finally, here’s the video that I made with my Portuguese teacher, Tatiana, at the end of month 2 (click CC to see the English subtitles):

//www.youtube.com/watch?v=pPzLAzAiNdo

Tatiana asked me the previous week to think of a movie to discuss during our chat. Naturally, I picked Star Wars: The Force Awakens, which is the best movie I’ve seen in the past year.

I found a European Portuguese podcast all about movies, called Arena dos filmes. They had one episode from early 2016 devoted entirely to the latest Star Wars movie. I listened to it three times in preparation for our chat.

I didn’t feel as good about this conversation as I did about my month 1 update video. I wanted the conversation to be completely spontaneous, so I didn’t prepare any specific material, or even study any vocabulary. I just listened to the podcast and tried to absorb Star Wars-related Portuguese that way. I did remember a couple key phrases, such as “o lado negro da força” (“the dark side of The Force” – no discussion of Star Wars is complete without this!), but not enough to easily describe the plot.

This is where I feel that my natural, somewhat unstructured approach to Portuguese faltered the most. Specialised vocabulary sometimes just has to be memorised, “brute force” style.

In hindsight, I should have created some audio flashcards containing the main ideas of the movie plot and studied those instead of listening to the podcast that third time.

On the plus side, the video does give a pretty good picture of how my Portuguese sounds when I’m truly on the spot. Tatiana mentioned afterwards that she would’ve liked to have helped me a bit more with plot points and vocab, but she had never seen any Star Wars films before (!) so it was up to me to explain the storyline. I’m hoping to find a Portuguese-dubbed version of The Empire Strikes Back so I can watch it and tell her about the best Star Wars movie of all .

One Month to Go in My Portuguese Mission!

Thanks for following along! Stay tuned for the final update of my Portuguese in 3 Months mission.

The post Portuguese in 3 Months Mission: 2 Month Update appeared first on Fluent in 3 months - Language Hacking and Travel Tips.

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