#because if I do my neck physical therapy…

[himblebo]

Ohhhhhh

[thebibliosphere]

It astounds me that you can post something deeply personal and traumatic about almost dying at the hands of a chiropractor and sustaining lifelong damage that negatively impacts your daily life to a debilitating degree, and people will still send irate messages like, “well I can’t afford a doctor so what am I supposed to do? Just not let chiropractors crack my neck?!”

And it’s like worstie, whether you can afford a doctor or not won’t fucking matter if the chiropractor fucks up your entire life because if what happened to me happens to you, you’re fucked and if you want to live you’ll end up paying much much more than what seeing a physical therapist would have cost you in the first place.

My PT is mostly covered by insurance these days. But without it the bill is $300.

The damage the chiropractor has cost me? Well it was 6 grand for the first emergency MRI which my insurance didn’t cover, several grand in doctors appointments to be told I’m fucked for the rest of my life and basically just thousands of dollars a month in rehab that I honestly can’t afford to keep me from killing myself from the pain while plunging myself and my husband into further insurmountable medical debt because he refuses to let me go.

So you tell me. Do you want to eat the cost of that initial physical therapy appointment now so you can learn to properly manage your neck pain without letting someone crack it? Or do you want to wait and end up like me. Because I guarantee you, it’s a waiting game. Chiros only have to fuck up once.

Once is enough.

[stllmnstr]

every fragile thing

pairing: park sunghoon x f reader

genre: enemies to lovers, figure skating au, college/university au

word count: 12.3k

warnings: alcohol consumption, jealousy, non graphic descriptions/depictions of injuries, use of the american (usa) university system, a kiss or five

soundtrack: get him back! / brutal / jealousy, jealousy / good 4 u / the grudge / bad idea right? / drivers license - olivia rodrigo

After an ankle injury lands you in mandated physical therapy sessions instead of on the ice where you should be training for nationals, you're absolutely certain you must be the most frustrated, emotionally volatile figure skater on the planet. Park Sunghoon proves you wrong.

or,

every fragile thing has one of two choices: become stronger or shatter into a million pieces.

note: hi hello yes this is me on a new blog with the same name. I deleted my old one and wasn't sure if I planned on remaking/reposting but here we are! if you've read this before, then I hope you enjoy just as much this time around. and if you haven't, I hope you love figure skater sunghoon just as much as I do! happy reading ♡

Silence. One word, two syllables. A fairly straightforward term with a meaning that can be easily deduced from a quick scan of its Merriam-Webster definition. 

But unlike many words, silence is one that’s typically learned through experience. Through stilted moments, pregnant pauses, dreamlike moments in the dead of night while the world around you is at a standstill. 

In the moments just before the music starts, when it feels as if the audience around you is holding their breath. And you stand at the center of it all, blades of your tightly laced skates against ice, chest rising and falling in time with your heartbeat, mind spinning with possibility. In those moments, your long trained muscles take over, following the memory of countless repetitions as your body prepares to do what it knows best. 

There’s a question in that silence. One that’s asked with baited breath. 

Will I land this skill? Will I go home with a medal around my neck, cold weight a familiar comfort against my skin? Will this be my best performance yet? Will they love it? Love me?

That, as you’ve come to learn, is your favorite kind of silence. The kind that’s filled with endless possibility, with the promise of something beautiful or disastrous or some odd mix of the two to come. 

The feeling of freedom, of flying as blade cuts through ice, as your body defies gravity with every jump, every spin. 

But that is very much not the kind of silence that greets you where Dr. Min eyes you warily over the top of his pristine clipboard, a crease forming between his dark eyebrows. Frowning, he glances at the paper once more before returning his gaze to you. 

“You’re sure you’ve been resting? No weight on the fracture at all?”

It takes a good chunk of your willpower not to roll your eyes. Mostly because you’re lying through your teeth, but who’s keeping track? 

“Yes, I’m sure.” Gesturing to the thick black boot the lower part of your left leg and foot have been imprisoned in for the better part of a month, you add, “This thing’s still coming off in two weeks, right?”

Two weeks is pushing it, but you’ve done more with less. Two weeks puts you exactly three months out from regionals, which gives you exactly ninety-one days to pull together the most jaw dropping program you or the judges have ever seen. One that’s certain to land you on the podium and secure a spot at nationals. 

Once again, you thank your lucky stars for Coach Lee. She’s been with you since you were still struggling to lace your own skates, and there’s no one else you’d trust to have you ready for regionals in such a short time frame. No one else you’d bet your fate on like this. 

“That was our original time frame, yes…” Dr. Min trails off, avoiding your gaze in a way that has your stomach dropping unpleasantly. 

“And we’ll be sticking to it, I’m sure.” You hate the way the end of your phrase turns up like a question. 

Dr. Min sighs. “Look, ___, our original time frame was ambitious to begin with, and I hate to tell you this, but your ankle is not healing as well as we’d hoped. Fractures don’t heal overnight, and the best thing for you right now is rest.” 

The argument is already forming on your tongue. “But—”

“I know it’s hard to believe, but I’m not trying to ruin your life, ___. Truly. I’m saying this to you as the parent of an athlete and a former athlete myself. Pushing yourself now will only lead to reinjury in the future and will also very likely shorten your career. Your ankle needs to heal before you skate on it again. It needs to heal before you so much as put weight on it. And you need to let it heal completely.” The sincerity in his voice is hard to stomach when he says, “Believe me when I tell you that you’ll regret it for the rest of life if you don’t.”

And logically, you know he’s right. Know that this will be nothing but a minor setback if you allow it to run its course. If you follow his advice to rest and heal. But skating has never been something you’ve done with the logical parts of yourself. And Dr. Min doesn’t get it. You tell him as much. “You don’t understand what you’re asking me to do. Regionals are in less than four months, and—”

“I hear you. Believe me, I do. But this is your third year of university, which means you have another shot at nationals next year. If you push it and try to skate before you’re ready, you may very well lose that chance too.”

“So I’m supposed to do what? Sit around and do nothing until my ankle decides to cooperate?” Even voicing the possibility has you suppressing a grimace. 

But Dr. Min has different thoughts. “Yes. That is exactly what you need to do.”

You don’t avert your gaze. Neither does he. Finally, after a moment, he sighs. “My recommendation at this point is still rest, but—”

“But?” Your excitement is impossible to contain fully. 

Dr. Min levels you with a cautionary look over his clipboard. “But, if you’re going to do anything, our athletics department does also run a physical therapy program, which I think could be beneficial. It would help to retain flexibility, mobility, and agility in the areas of your leg that support your ankle. It could help get you back on the ice faster and maintain the leg strength you’ve built. There’s a group session that runs on Tuesday afternoons—”

“Yes,” you nod, not bothering to hear the end of his statement. “Yes, I’ll do that.”

“I… okay.” As much as you want to hate him for it, Dr. Min has a point. And while you doubt physical therapy will be anywhere near as grueling as your usual workouts, it sounds a hell of a lot better than doing nothing. 

…

You’ve never liked hospitals. The odd juxtaposition of white, lifeless sterility and a culmination of some of life’s most painful moments has always left an unpleasant taste on your tongue. 

It’s one that has you double checking the address Dr. Min forwarded to you as you enter the oddly cheerful building that is apparently home to a renowned athletics physical therapy facility. Despite the medical purpose, there’s a distinct liveliness that envelops the space. 

The woman at reception informs you that this is indeed the right building and the session you’re attending has just begun in the room to your left. 

Pausing at the door, you’re struck with a sudden timidness. A physical therapy group for athletes will obviously be filled with, well, athletes. And although you can’t speak too harshly on that particular subsect of people, being one yourself, they can be intimidating. It must be the competitiveness, you think. The drive to push, succeed, win that gives off such a distinct aura.

Steeling yourself with one last breath, you remind yourself that’s why you’re here. To get back to that version of you that has everyone else feeling a little shier. That version of you that eats, breathes, and sleeps with ice skates laced on your feet and visions of the top of a podium driving your every decision. 

With determination straightening your brow, you push open the door. 

And immediately find yourself grateful for the mental preparation as three heads snap in your direction.  

Hitching your bag up an inch on your shoulder, you try not to melt under the sudden awkwardness. Thankfully, one of them is better at breaking ice than you.

“Hi,” the boy closest to you is the first to fill the silence. He’s all smiles where he gives you a friendly wave, moving a stray hair out of his eyes with a flick of his head as he tells you, “I’m Jungwon.”

You offer your name in return, trying on a smile to match his friendliness. You have a feeling it comes more naturally to him than it ever will to you, though. 

Regardless, he offers an equally cheerful, “Nice to meet you.” Glancing over to where the second boy is moving through a series of stretches, Jungwon makes eye contact, silently telling him he’s up next. 

Even mid-stretch, he acquiesces. “I’m Niki,” the second boy follows. 

“And I’m Jake.” The last boy doesn’t need any prompting from Jungwon. Nodding towards the walking boot that covers the bottom half of your left leg, he glances at a similar one that he wears on his own. “Looks like we’re twins. Tore up my achilles pretty bad in my last soccer match,” he explains. “What about you?”

“Fractured my ankle,” you return, a rueful smile dragging your lips up. “Figure skater.”

“Ah, man.” Jungwon winces. “That sucks.”

You shrug, forcing a nonchalance you don’t feel. “No worse than a busted achilles.” 

“That’s cool that you skate though,” Jake offers. “Kind of a funny coincidence, actually. There’s another—”

Whatever it is, he doesn’t get to finish the thought. At that moment, the door opens again, this time revealing a middle aged woman in a white physician’s coat. Her name tag reads Dr. Kim, and she introduces herself as such to you. 

“Looks like everyone’s here, including our new members.” She gives another cursory nod in your direction. “Welcome again.” Glancing around, the instructor pauses. “Oh, wait. Except for—”

“I’m here, I’m here.” For the second time in the span of a minute, the door behind you opens. You don’t miss the glance that passes between Niki and Jake. You turn to face the new arrival, but his back is to you as he sets his bag down and begins the process of switching his shoes. 

The way the new member enters with a dismissive wave of his hand and lack of proper greeting has you thinking tardiness is not an uncommon trait of his. Even from behind, you can feel the waves of arrogance he exudes. That seems to align more with your preconceived notions of athletes. 

Studying him for another second, a sinking feeling of dread begins to build in the pit of your stomach. Long, dark hair. Unnaturally graceful movements, even if all he’s doing is digging through his bag. Tall stature, broad shoulders, long legs. 

An athlete’s build through and through. Perfectly suited for the ice. 

“Great.” Despite the statement, Dr. Kim’s tone is flat. “Well, we were just getting started and introducing ourselves since we have someone new joining us today.”

“Hi,” he offers, still fixated on his bag, yet to offer as much as a glance in your direction. If anything, it only serves as a confirmation of his identity. “I’m—” You don’t even need to hear him say it. 

“Sunghoon?”

At that, he does finally look up. 

Gaze locking with yours, a moment of confusion is quickly replaced by a furrow in his brow, the slight downturn of his lips. He’s not thrilled to see you either. 

A beat passes. 

Two. 

Neither of you break eye contact. 

The silence extends to the point of discomfort for all four onlookers, each of them hesitant to break the tension that’s rising by the second. 

Finally, Dr. Kim takes a knife to the tension. “Do you two know each other?” 

Park Sunghoon. Renowned figure skater at your rival university. Someone with such a natural knack for carving lines through ice that whispers of prodigy have been shadowing his footsteps since the minute he put them on a rink. 

Someone with his head so far up his own ass you’re not sure how he can see half the time, much less keep his hair looking so perfect. 

Oh, you know him alright. 

“___?”

And it would seem he remembers you as well. 

It also answers Dr. Kim’s question well enough. 

“Ah, good.” It sounds like a question, like she’s hoping your acquaintance will be a positive thing instead of a disaster. You don’t have the heart to tell her otherwise. “The figure skating community is tight knit, I suppose.”

You suppress a scoff. That’s one word for it, you guess. 

You remember when it felt that way to you, too. Before tight knit became too small. Back before university, when it felt like it was you and Park Sunghoon against the world, instead of against each other. Back when the two of you didn’t skate for opposing teams but instead were members of the same club. A time when you took the ice together, skated as partners until he—

You force your thoughts to stop in their tracks. Your blood pressure has spiked enough in the last few days, and thinking back on long days spent with Park Sunghoon will only send it skyrocketing again. 

If anything, you’ll use this opportunity to practice perfecting your poker face for when you inevitably run into him at future competitions. 

And future competitions means you need a healed ankle, not a bruised ego. And certainly not an unpleasant trip down memory lane. 

Turning away from Sunghoon, you’re the first one to answer when Dr. Kim asks if you’re ready to get started. 

“Yes,” you tell her, determination written across your brow, in the set of your shoulders, and perhaps most noticeably, in the way you avoid Sunghoon’s wandering gaze for the next two hours. 

…

Without the rink, days are quick to meld into one another. It may be concerning, considering that you still have a set schedule of classes and homework to follow, but your life has revolved around training for so long that it’s hard to tell Mondays from Wednesdays without a set practice schedule. 

Thankfully, you do still make it back to the clinic at the right time on the right day, this time for another session with Dr. Kim and your fellow band of broken athletes. 

Including him. 

Aside from the glaringly obvious exception, you’re not as bothered at the thought of returning as you feared you might be. 

Jungwon, Niki, and Jake have proven themself pleasant enough company, and Dr. Kim seems to have built an understanding of how difficult it is to be forcibly removed from the sport you love. As such, she’s one of the least aggravating medical professionals you’ve spent time around. 

“Hey,” Niki greets when you arrive. “Did you have a good weekend?”

You shrug. “Good enough. Mostly just catching up on homework.” Setting your bag down and switching out your shoes, you join him on the mat, beginning the series of warm-up stretches Dr. Kim instructed you through last week. “What about you?”

“Not too bad. I got some good news from my doctor, actually.” He switches legs in his stretch, and you’re almost envious of his flexibility. He’s a dancer, and an exceedingly good one at that. One with an unfortunate knee injury at the moment. “My x-rays are looking a lot better. He thinks I might be able to start easing back into regular use by next month.” 

“That’s great,” you smile, even as a pang of jealousy stabs somewhere near your gut. “I’m really happy for you, Niki.” 

“A month still feels like forever, though, doesn’t it?” He sighs. “I can’t remember the last time I was out of the studio for this long.” 

Jungwon slides down onto the mat next to you, joining in on the stretch routine. “Consider yourself lucky, man. They told me at my last check-up that I probably won’t be able to do any jumping or kicks again for at least three months even though the fracture is already mostly healed.” He shakes his head. “No jumping or kicking,” he echoes, sarcasm dripping from every word. “You know, things that are super easy to avoid in taekwondo.”

“If it’s any consolation, I just got told that I’m gonna have to sit out of regionals this year. Which means I’ll have no way of qualifying for nationals.” You wonder how many times you’ll have to admit that particular reality to yourself before the sting starts to fade. 

“That sucks.” Jake agrees, coming down to the mat and occupying the spot next to Niki. “I’ll probably have to sit for this entire season, too. I love my team, but it’s so frustrating watching them play when I know I could be an asset on the field.”

“That’s true.” You’re struck by a sudden wave of sympathy. “At least skating is an individual sport, so the only person I have to disappoint is myself.” 

“Speaking of skating,” Jungwon sounds hesitant as he approaches the subject. “Do you and Sunghoon, uh…” he pauses for a moment in search of a neutral way of framing the unmistakable tension that surfaced the last time he saw the two of you together. “Do you two know each other?”

Grimacing internally, you suppose an explanation was bound to be solicited after your icy reunion. “We skate for rival universities.” Your gaze fixes on a spot on the ground. “And before college we used to, uh, we used to skate for the same club.”

The three boys share a glance. It’s hardly an explanation for the venom you said his name with but before they can press you further, the subject in question enters the room. 

Again, he takes his time setting his bag down, getting his things ready. This time, he also pulls out an obnoxiously big pair of headphones, secures them over his ears before he bothers to turn around. Despite the fact that all three boys offer him friendly smiles and waves, he returns the gesture only with a tight smile, making his way to the mat on the opposite side of the room before he begins his stretch routine.

It’s a message that rings loud and clear. A frown passes between Jake, Jungwon, and Niki. It’s obvious to you, then, that you’re the reason he chose to set himself up as far away as physically possible. 

So be it, you think, letting the slight roll right off of you. It’s not the first time he’s given you the cold shoulder for something he plays an equal part in, and you doubt it will be the last. 

Besides, it will only make your sessions pass by quicker, if the burden of avoiding gazes and minimizing interactions falls on his shoulders instead of yours.

With nothing but a shrug, you adjust slightly, ensuring that the only view he has of you is of your back. 

…

It’s a pattern that continues as physical therapy sessions start to become a regular routine in your week. Sunghoon, with his apparent disdain for anyone’s time but his own, is always the last to arrive. He also continues his habit of picking the spot in the room furthest away from you. 

Despite the fact that you’d like to chalk it up to his social ineptitude alone, that explanation doesn’t track. Although there’s still a certain aura of aloofness that follows where he goes, it’s too often that you see him smiling at a joke cracked by Jake or sharing easy conversations with Jungwon and Niki.  

Hell, he even interacts with Dr. Kim with a level of warmth you didn’t know was possible coming from him. If there’s any disdain in their conversations, he directs it all towards his right wrist. It’s why he’s here, you assume. Encased in a brace similar to the one you wear on your left ankle, his right forearm seems to be the reason for his attendance. 

It’s hard to not be envious. While a wrist injury is nothing to scoff at, it doesn’t necessarily keep you off the ice. Not in the same way a fractured ankle does. 

Refocusing your thoughts, you push the boy across the room firmly out of mind as Dr. Kim helps adjust you into the next stretch.

“How about now?” Dr. Kim pushes your spine a fraction of an inch further, pressure light but demanding. Before, this much flexibility would have been an easy request of your body, but lack of use has your muscles feeling tight. “Any tightness or pain?”

“No.” The bead of sweat on your brow begs to differ, as does the way the negation slipped through gritted teeth. 

But you’re frustrated. Annoyed at the progress you’ve lost, at the new limits of your body, at the way you feel like a stranger in your own skin. 

Across the room, you miss the flicker of annoyance that flits over Sunghoon’s features. Headphones on as always, you imagine you’re nothing more than a blip on his radar, a pesky intruder that’s easily ignored as long as he has his back to you. 

“Hm,” Dr. Kim muses. “You’ve retained more flexibility than I expected.” She offers you a smile. “That’s a good thing, a sign of a quick recovery.”

You suppress a grimace. It should be a good thing. You should be recovering quickly. If only you could get your stupid body to cooperate. 

Stealing another glance at the boy across the room, you can’t help the way a small burst of rage bubbles in your stomach. Prodigy. Why does he always get to be the anomaly, the exception to the rule? His injury is already less severe than yours, and he’s probably recovering quickly, too. Without even having to fake it.

Easing you out of the stretch, Dr. Kim jots down a quick note. “I’ll have Dr. Min run another x-ray at your next visit.” Nodding towards your ankle, she adds, “I think there’s a good chance that things are looking a lot better, and updated x-rays will help guide our next sessions.” She pauses for a minute. “I don’t want to get ahead of myself or get your hopes up, but I think we might be able to start putting some weight back on it soon. Start getting it stronger again.” 

You’re hesitant to let your excitement grow too much. But it would be a lie if you weren’t already counting the days until your next visit with Dr. Min in your head. “Thank you,” you tell her. “I’ll hope those x-rays come back looking good, then.”

“Me too,” she smiles. “I’ll see you next week, then. Hopefully with good news.”

You nod, returning her smile before heading to the door to gather your things. Jungwon catches you on your way out. 

“Hey, ___, hold on a sec.” When you turn back towards him, he tells you, “The rest of us are gonna grab lunch at a place nearby, if you want to join.”

Your uncertainty must write itself across your features, because he’s quick to add, “Don’t worry. Sunghoon won’t be there. He’s got a class right after this.”

Slightly embarrassed by the way he read you so easily, you nod. “Sure. Lunch sounds good.” Despite their friendliness with Sunghoon, you’ve come to like the three of them. And it’s been far too long since you broke up the monotony of class, homework, and medical appointments with something as simple as lunch with friends. 

And as long as he’s not there, you imagine it will be nothing but pleasant. 

It doesn’t take long for them to prove you wrong. 

Niki barely lets you get one bite in before he asks, “So, what exactly happened between you two?” Even without the name, the question is obvious. 

Still, after choking on the sip of water you’d been taking, you answer, “Who?”

Jake just gives you a look. 

You sigh. “Like I said, we used to skate for the same club. We, uh, never really got along, I guess.” Avoiding eye contact, you add, “And now we skate for rival schools. I suppose it’s only natural to not like each other.”

Niki doesn’t miss a beat. “Yeah, that sounds made up.”

Jungwon swallows his bite, parts his lips like he has something to say. Internally, you heave a sigh of relief. If any of the three of them spare you, you have a feeling it would be him. “I mean, it does seem like something else must have happened.”

Or not. 

“You don’t have to tell us,” he adds. “But it’s just… I mean, the two of you can’t even look at each other.”

Sighing, you suppose the circumstances do look odd from the outside. “There was… an incident. Back when we used to skate together.”

“What?” Jake asks. “Did he steal your skates right before a show or something?” 

“No, no.” You shake your head. “It happened on the ice, actually. During a program.”

“Wait,” Niki interrupts. “You said you used to skate together. Do you mean like, as partners?”

The guilt on your face says it all. 

“No way.” Jake says. 

Jungwon’s eyes grow bigger. “What did he do?”

“Yeah,” Niki turns to face you fully. “Wouldn’t being his partner be a good thing? At least on the ice, I mean. I know he can be a little insufferable, but isn’t he some sort of prodigy—”

“Prodigy, my ass.” You’re so sick of that goddamn word. “Wasn’t a prodigy when he dropped me in the middle of our program at junior nationals, was he?”

The way all three or their jaws drop in unison is almost worth the admission. 

But the thing is, he was. No accusatory fingers pointed in his direction after it happened. No one blamed prodigy Park Sunghoon for the mishap. 

No, it was decided fair and square by the jury of public opinion that the mistake was entirely your fault, your burden to bear. And it’s not like you were immune to the criticism. Whispers followed where you went. And you always, always managed to hear them. 

Maybe if you’d trained a little harder, completed the second rotation a little sooner, the skill would have gone off without a hitch, they mused. Hell, maybe if you’d stuck to your diet a little better, those last two pounds would have spelled the difference between a perfect landing and your ass on frozen ground, program music still crescendoing as onlookers watched with horrified fascination.

“Oh,” Jungwon grimaces. 

“That’s rough,” Niki agrees. 

And they don’t even know the worst of it. Don’t know that back then, at fifteen, you’d had a giant, soul crushing, earth shattering, massive crush on your skating partner. That you searched for his approval just as eagerly as you’d sought out your coach’s. 

That you’d squeezed in as many extra practice sessions as physically possible for five months leading up to the routine just to make sure you were as close to flawless as possible, just to make sure you were chosen to be his partner on the ice. 

That you giggled, giggled, when you saw the matching costumes the two of you would wear for the first time. 

That you followed where he went with long sighs and lovesick eyes. That you looked forward to the grueling hours you spent on the ice with him, turning perfection into something even greater. 

That your heart skipped a beat every time you ran through your program, every time he caught you with sure hands and a strong grip. 

That Park Sunghoon never made a mistake, never let you fall, not once. 

Not until a spotlight was spinning dreams into reality and you were already anticipating the secret smiles you’d share with matching gold medals around your necks. 

Not until it all shattered in a single moment. 

It was cold, as you laid there on the ice, sprawled out and unable to move from the sudden shock of it all. Luckily, you’d avoided any critical injuries. You had staggered off the ice with nothing but some bad bruising, the worst of it staining your ego and your heart. 

And after it all, no matter how many times you passed him on your way to the locker room, shared the ice with him, or searched for the gaze he pointedly avoided across the room, Park Sunghoon never uttered the two words that just might have made you forgive it all. 

Instead of an apology or even the decency of an explanation, you got a cold shoulder and a lost friendship you were too confused by to mourn. 

In the end, you’d decided to turn it all into a blessing in a very thorough disguise. From that moment onwards, all of your time on the ice was dedicated to you and you alone. Never would you let anything but the sheer strength of your own will, your own goals, motivate you to become better, faster, stronger. 

And you found that victory tasted even sweeter, when the full weight of it could rest on your shoulders alone. When no one could whisper behind their palms that the only reason you stood on the podium was a prodigy of a partner. 

So fine. Park Sunghoon didn’t owe you shit. Not an apology, an explanation, or even a second glance. 

And if he was a prodigy, an ice prince or whatever stupid title he’d earned alongside his medals, well, you’d just have to be even better.

But now, sitting across from new friends with a fractured ankle and a ruined shot at medalling this year, a quiet part of you admits for the first time that maybe, just maybe, part of that resolve is nothing but spite in disguise. Part of the anger you’ve clung to for so long isn’t directed at him, but at yourself. 

That it was embarrassing to fall in front of a crowd, yes, but it was also humiliating to know that he was hearing all those little comments about your inferiority too. To realize that his silence meant he probably agreed. That you were a liability of a partner, unequal in both skill and importance. That he could move on from the incident, from you, completely unscathed. 

That your little crush was entirely one-sided, just like the respect and admiration you’d once felt for him. 

You stare at the half-eaten lunch in front of you, appetite suddenly completely gone. 

“What a coincidence that the two of you ended up injured at the same time,” Jake muses. 

“And in the same physical therapy group.” Jungwon nods. 

“Yeah,” you echo hollowly. “What a coincidence.”

…

When Park Sunghoon speaks to you for the first time in five years, it’s completely by accident.

As the weeks have continued on, you’ve fallen into a perfect routine during your shared physical therapy sessions. A routine of avoidance, ignorance, and as much space between the two of you as physically possible. It’s become so easy that the two of you navigate it with the kind of grace only two elite figure skaters could ever manage. 

If anything, it’s more awkward for the other members of your session than it is for the two of you. Jungwon, Jake, Niki, and Dr. Kim are the ones suffering as they try to stay friendly with both of you without icing out the other. 

It must be why he doesn’t even bother to check who it is that’s standing right next to him as he reaches for his bag on the shelf near the front door at the end of another session. Must be why he says it in a voice so casual you don’t think it’s him at first. “How pissed do you think Dr. Kim will be if I’m late again next week?”

Even though the voice doesn’t quite fit, you half expect to see Jake standing next to you when you turn to the side. 

Sunghoon realizes his mistake at the exact same second you do. You watch as shock flickers across his features, quickly replaced by something guarded, unreadable. Just as completely closed off to you as always. 

It pisses you off, the way he’s so utterly and completely unaffected by you. The way he can brush you off as easily as a piece of dust. Insignificant. Unimportant. Unwanted. It has you freeing the reins on comments you should bite back instead. 

“Hard to say.” Ice and resentment drip from every syllable. “Then again, I’m surprised you care about what she thinks. Doesn’t seem like something that would bother you.”

That at least earns you some of his emotion. Another bout of shock crosses his face before it shifts to confusion and falls finally to anger. You can see it in the furrow of his brow, the set of his jaw. The flare of heat in his eyes. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

If he falls to anger, you’ll rise above it. At least on the outside. There’s no accounting for the way your gut twists in rage. Still, you offer him a smile that’s almost as fake as it is sickeningly sweet. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out if you spend enough time thinking about it.” It’s patronizing, and intentionally so. You hope it annoys him enough to keep him up tonight. 

Reaching for the front door, you take your exit first. The hallways of this building have become familiar over the weeks. Even with anger clouding your vision and a bad ankle, you trace a steady path to the parking lot. You’re halfway to your car when the sound of your name stops you in your tracks. 

You freeze for a moment, turning the sound of it over in your brain, stuck on the way it almost sounds like a plea, a prayer coming from his lips. The sound of footsteps draws nearer. They fall quickly, as if he’s running. Your indecision still renders you immobile. 

“Hold on a second. Did I… Did I do something to upset you?”

If you thought you were angry before, you’re surely seeing red now. How dare he. 

Spinning around, you only hope you sound as outraged as you feel. “Is that supposed to be some kind of joke?”

“What? No.” His brow furrows. “I mean, I know our schools are technically rivals and all, but we haven’t really seen each other in years.”

“Right, because you’ve been so sunny and welcoming since I joined the group.”

“I was giving you space. You practically bolted like a scared cat when you saw it was me.” He runs a hand through his hair. You hate the way it falls perfectly back into place. And you hate the way he looks so good doing it. “But clearly you’ve got something against me.”

The audacity, the sheer, utter audacity. There’s no trace of humor when you say, “You’re hilarious, really.” And there’s no room for debate when you turn away from him again, continuing to walk towards your car. 

“Wait,” he tries, but it falls on deaf ears. “God, ___, would you just hold on for a second, I—”

You turn. To do what, you’re not entirely sure. But before you can decide, the grip he has on his car keys loosens, the fingers of his right hand less dexterous than usual thanks to his arm brace. He still has his reflexes though. With his other hand, he manages to stop them from falling completely. 

“Better take care of that.” You jerk your chin to where he awkwardly fumbles with his keyring, trying to find a better grip. “Wouldn’t want to drop those too.”

His gaze snaps to you, eyes wide, mouth slightly slackened. The keys fall from his grasp, metal clinking delicately on the pavement. A million questions swim across his features, none of which you’ll give the grace of answering. 

Instead, you turn around once more. You make it all the way to your car, all the way out of the parking lot, all the way home. 

And he never says your name once. 

…

The following Tuesday, you are the last one of the group to arrive. And while you would usually never pass up the opportunity to best Sunghoon at anything, including being the latest arrival, competition is not the reason for your tardiness. 

It’s avoidance. That, and the fact that you had to spend eleven minutes giving yourself a pep talk in the car before you could work up the nerve to approach the front doors of the clinic. In the end, it’s a glance down at the boot on your left foot that does it. You’ve let Sunghoon ruin your chance at a gold medal once, and you’ll be damned if you let him do it again. 

Besides, your last visit with Dr. Min was a good one. Your ankle hasn’t healed quite as much as Dr. Kim suspected, but progress is progress, and you’re making plenty of it, according to your most recent x-rays. 

You enter the session with an apology for Dr. Kim and concentrated efforts to not let your gaze wander to the back corner of the room as you make your way over to where Jake and Jungwon sit. Starting your stretches, you assume Niki is over with Sunghoon, but you can’t work up the nerve to confirm that. 

Despite her initial annoyance at your tardiness, Dr. Kim is equally pleased at your latest x-ray results and gives you the green light to switch out the resistance bands you’ve been using for the next level up. Just as you’re reaching for the set of red bands on the shelf next to the treadmills, a set of obnoxiously smooth hands gets there first. 

Turning to Sunghoon with narrowed eyes, you grab the end of the band set he just snatched out from under you, eyes ablaze. 

The little fucker has the gall to roll his eyes. “What are you doing?”

You yank on the band. He doesn’t even flinch, grip steady. “I’m trying to follow Dr. Kim’s instructions,” you inform, tone flat. 

This time when you yank again, he yanks back. Much to your annoyance, he’s able to exert enough force to have you stumbling forward. “You’re trying to provoke me.”

“And it’s working,” Niki whispers to Jake and Jungwon in the back corner of the room. Dr. Kim just shakes her head. 

“Just take the green bands,” Sunghoon suggests. 

“They don’t have enough resistance. I need these ones,” you argue. “Why don’t you take the green ones?”

“Pretty sure if one of us takes the lighter bands, it should be you.” Sunghoon tightens his grip. “Or are you seriously trying to claim that you’re stronger than me right now?”

“I’m using them for my legs, you absolute jackass. Which are definitely stronger than your forearms.”

Sunghoon cocks a brow. “Should we put money on it?”

“You are such a dick. Dr. Kim literally—”

“Has another set of red bands,” the woman in question interrupts. She levels the two of you with an exasperated look as she holds them out in front of her. “There’s another set of every color on the equipment shelf next to the door.”

“Oh, right,” you nod, pulling back a little on your end of the band before you release it, just to hear the small cry Sunghoon lets out when it snaps against the skin of his good wrist. “Thanks.”

And the satisfaction that comes from completing your usual number of reps with a higher resistance is almost as gratifying as when you see Sunghoon rubbing at the still reddened skin on his left wrist as you pack up to leave for the day. 

“Those two are gonna kill each other,” Jungwon tells Jake and Niki as the three of them walk to their cars, brow creasing in concern. 

“Or something,” Jake agrees. 

Niki hoists his bag up on his shoulder. “My money’s on ___.”

A contemplative look passes between Jake and Jungwon before they nod in unison, “Yeah.”

…

You’re in the middle of passing a medicine ball back and forth with Jake the following week when he asks, “Are your school’s finals next week too?”

And although it’s hard to believe, first semester is already drawing to an end as the days get shorter and assignments get longer. 

“Yeah,” you nod. “I’m up to my ass in essays right now.”

“Same,” Jake agrees. “Sometimes it makes me wonder how I do it when I’m training, too.” Although you agree, a pang of jealousy is the only thing his words inspire. Of the skaters on your team that are preparing to compete as you speak. That have already choreographed their routines and selected their music and are spending every waking moment perfecting each and every detail of their program. 

It’s hard. It’s brutal. You’d be the first to admit that. But you miss it all the same, so much it hurts. 

A moment passes before he continues. “Well, anyway, Jungwon, Niki, and I were thinking that since none of us are training right now, we should celebrate the end of the semester like everyone else does.”

You arch a brow. “You’re gonna have to be more specific than that.”

“Right, sorry,” he apologizes. “Consider this your formal invitation to get absolutely shitfaced with us next Friday.”

The laugh that bubbles in your throat is so unexpected you can’t quite bite it back. While you have your fair share of good, old-fashioned fun, he’s right. Every other semester, you’ve celebrated the end of finals season with a cup of hot tea and an early night in bed. Traded one source of stress for another as you woke up bright and early the next day to hit the ice. 

You send him a smile, tossing the medicine ball back in his direction. “Count me in.”

…

The following Friday night finds you double-checking the address on your phone before tentatively knocking on the front door of what you hope is Jake’s apartment. In the middle of the university district across the city from your own, you can’t say you’re familiar with any of the buildings outside of the athletic complex, which you’ve only ever visited for a handful of competitions. It strikes you then that this is also the university Sunghoon attends. And, stomach dropping, that you never actually asked who all would be attending tonight.

Before you have the chance to spin on your heel and high-tail it down the stairs you just climbed, the door swings open. It’s not Jake. 

“Oh,” you mumble. The boy who opened the door is not Jake, but he is very much attractive. “Sorry. I’m looking for Jake Sim’s apartment.” Your voice turns up at the end like a question. 

“You’re in the right place,” he smiles, and it’s gorgeous. “I’m Heeseung, Jake’s roommate. You must be ___.” He opens the door wider, allowing you space. “Come on in.”

“That’s me.” You offer him a grateful smile as you enter, hanging your coat and sliding your shoes off. 

The interior is surprisingly sophisticated, for a college boy’s apartment. It’s clean, for starters, and as you follow Heeseung down the hallway towards the kitchen, you can’t help but be impressed by their choice in decor. 

“Help yourself to anything.” Heeseung gestures to the impressive spread of snacks on the table. “But first, can I get you something to drink?”

“Um…” Your lack of alcohol-related knowledge is apparent, and the uncertainty must be obvious, because Heeseung just smiles again. 

“I’ve got you.” There’s an undertone of something in his words. Something playful, something bordering on flirty. But it’s too subtle to tell for sure, and you’re not one to bet on losing odds. He reaches for a glass and a handful of ice cubes. “Do you like fruity flavors?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “That sounds good.” Besides, it’s been a minute since you’ve been well and truly flirted with at a college party by a boy that looks like he could spell trouble in his sleep. This could be fun, you think.  

Glancing towards the adjacent living room, you notice the usual familiar faces. Jake and Niki are sitting on the couch while Jungwon chats with a pair of boys you don’t recognize. Eyes tracing the perimeter, you feel your shoulders tense when they land on a familiar silhouette. Sunghoon has his back to you, but his identity is just as unmistakable as it was on your first day of physical therapy. Like Jungwon, he’s talking to another person you don’t know. 

Oh, well. It’s too late to back out now and too early to make an exit. If you and Sunghoon can coexist in a room once a week without starting too many fires, you’re sure you’ll manage to get through tonight just fine. 

Heeseung hands you a full glass. It’s cold where it meets your fingertips. 

“Should we join them?” He inclines his head toward the living room and you nod. 

Following in his footsteps, you wave a quick greeting to Jake before taking a seat next to Heeseung, enough space between you and Sunghoon for you to relax slightly.

“How do you and Jake know each other?” You ask, searching for something to fill the silence, to keep the conversation flowing. “Do you play soccer together?”

Heeseung shakes his head. “No, we’ve been friends since elementary school. But I am on the basketball team, which helps. I feel like student athletes just kind of get each other, you know?”

You do know, and you tell him as much. The crazy schedule, the unwavering commitment. It’s much easier to explain to someone that’s living through the exact same thing. 

“Speaking of which, you’re a figure skater, right? For the university across town.”

You arch a brow. “I’m surprised Jake told you so much about you.”

“Not nearly enough,” he flirts, and this time it’s blatant. 

You take another sip of your drink with upturned lips, weighing a response on your tongue. Before you can decide how many cards you’d like to show, you make eye contact across the room with the one person you were hoping to avoid. 

Sunghoon looks equally—scratch that—even more displeased to see you. Jawline so taught you could cut your finger on it and lips drawn in a straight line, he’s pissed where he locks eyes with you from his seat. Sunghoon is the one to avert his eyes first. Throwing back whatever’s in his cup, he slices through the moment of tension with a knife. 

If Heeseung notices the way your breath splutters, he doesn’t comment. Thankfully, Jungwon chooses the next moment to say his hellos and introduce you to the boys you hadn’t recognized earlier. 

“Sunoo,” he nods towards the boy he’d been sitting with earlier, who offers a friendly greeting. “And that’s Jay, over by Sunghoon. And you’ve already met Heeseung.”

“And you all go to school here?”

“Yeah,” Jungwon nods. “Jay and I live together, and Sunoo is Niki’s roommate.”

“You’re deep in enemy territory,” Heeseung elbows you lightly, teasing. “What are we gonna do with you?”

You lift your now empty glass towards him, grinning. “Get me another drink, hopefully.”

Sending you a wink, he takes the glass from your outstretched hand before standing from the couch. “On it.” You watch his back retreat into the kitchen, oblivious of the second one that follows it a handful of moments later. 

Jay, as it turns out, is not an athlete, but does play guitar for a local  band your friend has been raving to you about for ages. He’s already promising you two sets of complimentary tickets to every one of their upcoming shows by the time you realize Heeseung’s been gone for a while. Too long. 

Excusing yourself, you head toward the kitchen. And it’s just your luck that you find the person you’ve spent the evening avoiding, instead of the one you’re searching for. Even with the buzz of your first drink fading rapidly, your inhibitions are feeling low. 

Sunghoon barely has the chance to register your presence before you’re laying out accusations. 

“I know you don’t like me, but do you really have to spend the whole night glaring at me like that? In front of everyone?”

Sunghoon’s shoulders tense, a confirmation that he hears you, but he says nothing. Instead, he just swallows the remainder of his drink in one large gulp. His eyes are still flaring, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think you did something to piss him off. 

But it’s just like him, to avoid conversations he doesn’t want to have with the end of another drink. To treat you like someone not even worthy of a response. You don’t know why you expected anything different. Scoffing, you notice the full drink sitting on the counter. Heeseung must have had the chance to refill it before disappearing. 

You move to step around Sunghoon and reach for it when he finally says, “I’m not glaring at you.”

The gaze you level him with is incredulous. “Do you think I’m stupid? I have eyes—”

“For all I know you are stupid!” Sunghoon sighs, drags an open palm down the length of his face. “I mean, are you really gonna let some guy you just met pour your drinks all night?”

“Heeseung?” You’re confused why all of his rage seems to be directed towards something so insignificant. “He’s Jake’s roommate”

“And a complete stranger to you.”

It’s infuriating, the way he assumes his opinion should hold any weight in your life. The way he thinks he has any say in your decisions. “So should I avoid all the food now too?” You’re being petty now for the sake of it. “I mean, since you’ve been in here unsupervised for quite a while now.” You take another step towards your drink and he moves, blocking your path with his body. 

When you look up, you find his eyes already trained on you, and there’s no ice in them now. Just pure, unadulterated heat. Fire. Flames that lick the base of your spine. “You’re so fucking agitating, you know that?”

“I’m agitating?” You take another step forward, hoping the proximity will force him away. It doesn’t. If anything, he leans into it. Into you. 

You reach for the drink again. This time, he stops you himself. Fingers of his unrestricted hand wrapping around your wrist.

“Yeah.” His words are low, voice a caress even as it drips venom. You feel his breath ghost across your cheekbone. “Real fucking agitating.”

Your eyes are still locked on his, and you search them for a hint of something coherent, something that makes sense. Every bone in your body drawn taught, it’s as if muscle memory reverts you to the last moment you were like this, the last moment he held you this close, body entwined with his own in a familiar embrace. Your wrist slackens in his grasp. 

Last time, he dropped you. Sent you scattering across ice until the only thing you could taste was the bitterness of defeat and the sharp sting of humiliation. 

Last time, he let you fall. 

You have no idea what he’ll do now. 

In the end, it’s the sound of approaching footsteps that has the two of you springing apart, your wrist falling from his grip. In the scramble, you remember your original target. 

Despite the long melted ice, this drink feels even cooler in your grip, a stark contrast to the simmering heat just beneath your skin. 

When Heeseung enters, he’s tucking his phone into his pocket with an apologetic look. “Sorry, I had to take a call. My brother gets chatty at the worst times.” Nodding to your hand, he smiles, “You found your drink.” 

“Yeah, I did.” You take a step closer to the living room, closer to Heeseung. Further from Sunghoon. 

Glancing between the two of you, there’s a hint of uncertainty when Heeseung asks if you want to rejoin the others in the living room. 

You put his worries to ease and your questions to rest when you agree easily, not even bothering to give Sunghoon a second thought. 

You do seek his gaze one last time, though, before you follow Heeseung back to the party. Looking directly at him, you raise your glass in a mock toast. Without breaking eye contact, you bring the cup to your lips, swallowing half the drink in one long sip. When you do finally turn away, it’s to find the empty seat next to Heeseung. 

The rest of the evening passes in a pleasant blur, trading stories and laughs with the people around you while Heeseung keeps the seat at your side warm. Sunghoon does you the favor of disappearing from sight after your stand off in the kitchen.

It’s easy to relax into the company of everyone else, so much so that you don’t see Sunoo until you’re running right into him, the contents of his cup saturating the front of your shirt. 

It’s a problem Heeseung is quick to solve, and the gray hoodie he offers you is cozier than any of your own with a scent that’s almost addicting. 

He’s sweet, you think. Sweet and charming and forward in all of the right ways. It’s solidified when he offers to join you on the porch when you tell him you’re stepping outside for some fresh air. It’s cemented when he accepts your refusal with nothing but a smile and the request that you “come back quick.”

Stepping outside, it takes you a moment to realize that you’re not alone. It would appear that your earlier assumption that Sunghoon must have gone back to his place was wrong. There’s no drink in his hand, but the way he sways with the gentle midnight breeze makes you think he’s still working through everything he downed earlier. 

Silently, you glance up at the cloudless night sky, at the way the stars seem to wrap around you. Gaze returning to Sunghoon’s back, you suppose the simplest course of action would be to leave before he realizes you’re here. You turn to do just that, to make good on your promise to Heesung, when the sound of your name stops you in your tracks. 

Or at least, you think that’s what he says. It’s hard to tell, with the way his syllables and sounds slur together. Turning back towards him, you find him already looking at you. He repeats your name, and this time around, it’s a bit clearer. 

His eyes trace a downward line from your face to your change in clothes. Something in his face crumples, withers. 

“‘M sorry,” he slurs, words not lining up quite right through the inebriation. 

“What?”

“That day.” The sudden onset of sincerity in his tone makes him seem more sober than he is. “I should have caught you.”

The stars in the sky suddenly don’t seem so far away. You must have heard him wrong. A crease forms between your eyebrows, eyes scanning over his features. They’re laid open in their honesty, no trace of deception. 

“I wanted to catch you. I tried to.” He sighs. “Was my fault.”

“I…” You search for words, for the vindication you’d always imagined you’d feel at his admission. In its absence, you find only confusion and an odd pang of regret. “What?”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. 

“Sorry for what? Why are you bringing that up?”

He just shakes his head, eyes falling to his feet. 

“I’m sorry,” he says again. Like a broken record. His pain is wrapped up in there too, trapped in a loop time has never quite let it escape. 

When you return to the party, it’s with a jumbled excuse of needing to check on a pet cat you don’t have. 

In the haste of it all, you forget to so much as exchange numbers with Heeseung. But you do find the time to pull Jake aside on your way out the door, to make sure that he helps Sunghoon get home safe. 

…

The next morning greets you with a pounding headache and an unfamiliar hoodie draped over the back of your desk chair. It takes a moment of searching through hazy memories before recollection of that particular string of events finds you. 

With a sigh, you head out in search of water and Advil, sending Jake a quick message that you’ll stop by his apartment later to return Heeseung’s hoodie. 

Even a handful of hours later, you can’t decide if you hope Heeseung is home or not. It’s a Saturday afternoon after a long night, so you figure the odds are high. But you still can’t pinpoint whether that feeling in your gut is excitement or dread. 

In an effort to delay the inevitable, you take a detour before visiting Jake’s apartment again. Your rival university’s sports complex is just as nice as you remember it, large, pristine buildings that hold everything an athletics department could dream of. Fondly, you remember the first time you skated in this stadium, back in middle school. It had felt so big, then, so special, to be skating for such a large crowd. 

It felt even more special to be sharing the ice with someone who put dreams in your head and butterflies in your stomach. Still fairly new to pair skating, the two of you had put on a program with a less than favorable amount of deduction. 

But still. It was yours. It was special. It was shared. 

You wonder if he knew then, that one day he would be the reigning king of this very same rink. 

Probably, you think. Park Sunghoon never had the habit of letting things feel impossible. 

Looking down at the boot on your foot, you miss it, all of it, all at once. The late nights. The early mornings. The bruises and cuts and aching muscles. The determination after defeat. The elation after glory. The feeling of flying every time blade touches ice. 

The sign posted next to the stadium is an advertisement, a reminder, of the upcoming regional championships. There’s a pang of loss, a moment of grief, for your program that will have to wait for next year. 

But your x-rays are coming back better every time, and Dr. Kim is sure you’ll be back on the ice by the time spring comes. 

For the first time in a long time, you think it’ll be okay. You know you’ll be okay.  

In front of you, the stadium door opens, and you realize you’re standing right in front of the exit. 

“Sorry,” you mutter, quickly moving to get out of the way, but then you take a closer look. “Coach Kang?” you ask, just as she says your name with the same air of disbelief. 

It’s an odd feeling of synchronicity, to stumble into your childhood skating coach just as you’re reminiscing on the past. 

“It’s been so long,” she beams, pulling you in for a warm hug. “What are you doing here?”

“Just visiting a friend. What about you?”

“Coaches’ meeting,” she explains. “Trying to see if I can get some of my junior skaters in to watch a few practices before regionals.” Nudging you with her shoulder, she adds, “speaking of which, how’s your program coming along? Are you getting excited?”

You shake your head. “I’m actually off the ice for this one.” Glancing down, you lift your booted foot in explanation. “Ankle fracture has me out for the rest of the season.”

“Oh, no.” Coach Kang places a consolatory hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry. That has to be so hard.”

“It’s okay, actually.” You don’t know who’s more surprised, her at your admission, or you at the fact that you actually mean it. “Everything is healing up nicely, so I’m looking forward to an even better program next year.” 

“Well look at you, all grown up.” She smiles. “I can say that thirteen-year-old you would not have had such a good attitude about it. Honestly, I’m surprised a fracture was enough to stop you. You were always so stubborn about things. You and Sunghoon.” She lets out a short laugh as your shoulders tense at the mention of him. “I was just thinking about you two the other day, actually. We had a skater fracture his tailbone and argue until he was blue in the face that he still wanted to compete.” Shaking her head, she adds, “It reminded me of that time Sunghoon insisted on skating even though he’d just sprained his wrist.” She shakes her head again, releases a small laugh. “Never could keep you two off the ice.”

It all checks out, the stubbornness, the determination even when it was stupid. But you’re hung up on one detail. You’re sure you could list every one of Sunghoon’s skating injuries just as thoroughly as he could. But before the current one, you can’t recall any wrist injuries. “What? When did he sprain his wrist?” 

Coach Kang waves her hand flippantly, like the sinking feeling in your gut isn’t intensifying with every passing moment, like she isn’t about to confirm a realization you’re already dreading. “Oh, you remember. It was just a few days before nationals that one year.”

That one year. She skirts around it, for your sake probably. But you know exactly what she means, when she’s referring to. 

And suddenly, you’re falling through air again, plummeting towards ice as a hand makes a desperate attempt to catch you. As sheer will alone is no match for injury weakened bones and ligaments and muscles. As you’re sliding across frozen ground and he’s gripping his wrist with pain on his face and terror in his eyes. 

As your head spins, spots clouding your vision from the force of the impact. Before the world goes black, your eyes search for him. 

And in those last few moments of consciousness, you watch as his mouth moves to form words you can’t hear. 

“I’m sorry.”

…

Raising your fist, you pound at the door again. One, two, three times. At this rate, your knuckles will be bloody before you get a response. 

But before you can start your assault on the wood in front of you again, the door swings open slowly, revealing a familiar frame. 

“You absolute idiot.”

“Well hello to you too.” Rubbing at his eyes, you appear to have just woken him from a nap. If his head is feeling anything like yours was this morning, you almost feel sorry. 

But there are more pressing matters at hand. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

“That I’m an idiot? Probably not.”

“That you sprained your wrist three days before nationals? That you skated anyway? That you attempted to catch a person quite literally spinning through the air with a wrist injury?”

A beat of silence passes. 

And then another. 

Sunghoon suddenly looks wide awake. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. What the hell were you thinking?” There’s fire in your eyes, an anger that’s directed towards him but not in the ways he’s used to. 

He pauses for a moment, eyes searching your features for another beat. Finally, he sighs. “Would you have let me skate if I did?”

It’s not the answer you expect. And it’s just like him, to answer a question with one of his own. “I… what?”

“You heard me.” His eyes don’t leave yours. “Would you have let me get on the ice if you knew I was hurt?”

And what is it, him and his habit of asking ridiculous questions like they don’t have obvious answers. “What kind of question is that? Of course not. No one in their right mind would have let you do that program with a wrist sprain, much less your partner. And I love Coach Kang, but I’m about to file a negligence suit against her, because what the hell kind of—”

“Stop talking.”

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry,” he grimaces, and you’re still getting used to the way apologies sound on his lips. “That came out wrong. What I was trying to say was that you… Well, I… I mean…” He trails off for the third time, casts a tentative look at the way your eyebrows only raise higher and higher every time he stops a train of thought in its tracks. His gaze falls down, somewhere between your nose and chin. An exhale passes through parted lips. Something in his resolve slips. “Oh, fuck it.”

And then he’s kissing you. 

Lips against lips and hands in your hair. It’s messy and awkward, and you can’t quite get the timing right. 

Sunghoon pulls back a fraction of an inch, catching his breath and letting you do the same. 

“What are you doing?”

There’s heat in his eyes and fondness too, a soft sort of expression that only melts further every time he looks at you. But now there’s anxiety in the mix, a crippling fear that he’s misjudged everything entirely, done something horribly wrong. 

“I’m sorry.” Before today, you could count his apologies on one hand. Now, you’re running out of fingers. “Did you not want—”

This time, it’s you that pulls him down, hands lacing around the nape of his neck, exhaling a soft sigh against parted lips that sends his mind spinning. 

And it’s only the second time, but it’s already better. Already a natural rhythm that the two of you seem to fall into with a little more grace. 

The expanse of his door is cold against your back when Sunghoon pulls you into his apartment with his good hand, and he’s a quick study. Attempt number three is an even greater improvement as hands search for new skin to discover and things start to fall into place, one at a time. 

Reaching for Heeseung’s forgotten hoodie, Sunghoon breaks the kiss only to toss it somewhere outside your current plane of existence. In this moment, you exist only within the space the two of you occupy, everything else an afterthought. 

And you have the feeling attempt number four will be your best yet. 

…

epilogue

“Are you ever gonna join me or do I just have to stay out here looking stupid forever?”

You don’t even take a moment to consider. “The second one.”

“Come on,” Sunghoon pleads, skating back towards you where you remain planted firmly to the bench on the perimeter of the rink. He moves towards you with a grace that used to inspire a raging, stomping green monster of envy. Now, you just admire the way he cuts across the ice with the agility of a dancer. “It’s fun out here, I promise.”

Avoiding his gaze, you let your eyes fall to your feet instead. They’re already laced up in your favorite pair of skates, black boot all but forgotten since you had it removed at your last visit to Dr. Min’s office. Since he gave you the green light to return to the thing you love most. 

You had been ecstatic then. Brimming with so much extra energy Sunghoon had to physically intervene to prevent you from accidentally knocking over an elderly lady on your way out of the hospital. But now, with the opportunity you’ve been dreaming of for long, hard months at your fingertips, something in you hesitates. 

Sunghoon says your name, and suddenly he’s serious. “This is all you’ve been talking about for months.” Sliding down onto his knees in front of you, you’re suddenly at eye level. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He casts a doubtful glance. “Really, I just…” It’s hard, to speak your fears into existence, to let them take flight. Even if the boy in front of you makes it a little easier. “What if it’s not what I imagined?”

It’s a million little worries wrapped up in one. What if your ankle isn’t the same? What if it’s never the same? What if you’re not as good as you were? What if you’re not good enough? 

Sunghoon hears them all, and puts them to rest with a smile, a gentle touch as he rests his forehead against yours. “You and that big brain. Always worrying about the wrong things.”

“Hey! I—”

“It won’t be what you imagined.” He draws back a few inches, and your eyes have nowhere to land but on his own. “It will be different. It will feel weird, and your legs will feel wobbly, your muscles will feel weak, and your ankle might give out.”

Your lips flatten into a thin line. “If you’re trying to make me feel better, you’re doing a terrible job.”

Sunghoon just pinches your cheeks together, forcing your lips to purse. “So you’ll show up. Over and over again. Every day until your skates start to feel like a second pair of feet and the ice starts to feel like home again. Until your ankle and your muscles and your stamina are all built back up, in a way that’s different from before but will feel familiar before you know it.” He presses a single, delicate kiss to the tip of your nose. “Until I’m dragging you off the ice instead of onto it, because your boyfriend needs attention and is feeling a little jealous of all the time you’re spending here instead of with him.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re so needy. It’s gross.”

Sunghoon only smiles. “Only for you.”

This time, when he gets back on his feet and extends a hand, you take it. You follow him onto the ice and headfirst towards your insecurities feeling a little bit like a newborn deer, a bike without its training wheels. 

He laughs when you stumble and brushes hair out of your face when you pout. 

After an hour, you’re already feeling more solid than before. After two, that feeling of flying is starting to return. 

It’s somewhere just before hour three when Sunghoon says, “Remember how I told you earlier that you’re worrying about the wrong things?”

“Yeah.” You drag the word out slowly, not liking the hint of deviousness in his sudden grin. 

“This is what I was talking about. Instead of worrying about getting back on the ice, you should be worrying about how long it will take you to be able to beat me on a lap around the rink.”

“You absolute asshole. I fractured my ankle!”

Already halfway around the rink, Sunghoon just laughs. 

…

outtake—five years ago. 

Sunghoon’s vision is blurry. It’s a terrible combination of things—the exhilaration of the spotlight, the pain in his wrist, the grief of an egregious error. The sudden onset of tears that sting in the corners of his eyes and fall without his permission. 

Despite all of it, he finds his way back to his dressing room. Choking back a sob, he reaches for the glass of water he’d left out earlier. It tastes acidic on his tongue, burns like regret on the way down. 

Stupid, he was so stupid. His hands tangle in his hair. He wants to pull it out. Wants to scream until his throat is raw and he can’t anymore. 

It was a terrible enough decision to gamble his own fate on an unhealed injury, but as the reality of the situation comes crashing down around him, he realizes he’s done something much worse. 

Eyes open, eyes closed. It doesn’t matter. All he can see is you, sprawled out on ice, limbs bent unnaturally, eyes dazed at the impact. 

The unexpected impact. Because you trusted him. You trusted him so much that of course you’d never considered what you would do if his hands failed, if his wrist gave out. If he decided to risk your program, your fate, you, all on a whim, on an inflated sense of self-importance and a lack of regard for the injury he was so certain he could power through. 

He couldn’t imagine it, three days ago. Telling you that he was injured, that he couldn’t skate the program. He couldn’t imagine watching as the features he bashfully considered so, painfully pretty twisted into disappointment. Into anger. 

So he turned his shame into resolve, into determination. One that allowed him to catch you with a fractured wrist in every practice run, every time, except for the time that mattered. Biting back grimaces and cries of pain all for the fool’s hope of seeing you smile in a few days’ time, a gold medal around your neck. 

Instead, he got to see you spinning through the air, slipping through his fingers, landing with a sickening thud. He wants to ask what hospital they took you to, wants to ignore the pain in his wrist a little longer and run there himself, just to make sure that you’re okay.

But then he imagines the way you’ll look at him when you see him. The way all that disappointment and anger he’d wanted to avoid so desperately will surely be all you have to offer him. 

He understands. He does. He wouldn’t want to see him either. 

Turning away from the mirror, he tucks away his shame for the future. But that only leaves his gaze landing on the bouquet of flowers sitting on the table. The one he’d spent nearly an hour agonizing over, the one his mother had assured him a dozen times you would love. The one he made sure had all of your favorite colors. 

He snuck his own favorite in there too, in hopes of what exactly he can’t be sure, but he knows he likes the way they look together—your favorite color and the deep blue irises that represent his own. 

It seems to stupid now. After everything, after this, he can’t imagine you want his flowers, and even less his favorite color. He can’t imagine that you want anything to do with him. 

So he doesn’t seek you out. Not in the hospital that day, not when you’re cleared to practice and back on the ice again, not when chance has the two of you colliding five years later. 

Not until he watches you walk away from him with all that anger and resentment and disappointment he’s been so avoiding for so long. Not until it strikes him in the face and he realizes that he can’t live with it, can’t let bygones be bygones and hope time and the absence of him in your life have healed you for the better when it still hurts to even look at you. 

On a dressing room table, five years in the past, a bouquet of flowers wilts. 

And Sunghoon learns that with love and patience and a little bit of sunlight, beautiful things, even the fragile ones, bloom when you water them.

.....

note: thank you for reading! as always, comments, reblogs, and asks are very much appreciated :D

[bubblegumgothglados]

This is my RACK focused judgment free primer for heavy impact play. It covers every part of the body from head to toe and at no point does it say you can’t do something just the risks of doing so. I don't normally put warnings on my posts but most of my writing is fantasy, this isn't. I'm going to talk about any number of painful deaths and heaps more ways of becoming disabled.

In this primer "you" means the one doing the hitting, "victim" is the one being hit, and "tool" is the thing you're hitting with which could be a fist, foot, hammer, bat, anything. I'm writing it this way because its fun for me.

This primer also assumes you know the different types of impacts and how they affect the body, if you don't go look at my other writings.

Finally i take no responsibility for anything you do. All this information is what i could put together from medical journals and car crash reports if I've got anything wrong (and you can prove it) please let me know.

Enjoy

Head. With hits to the head, the two major concerns are concussions and neck injuries. A concussion occurs when a person’s brain impacts with the inside of their skull, this happens because the brain is suspended in fluid so if the skull stops or starts moving suddenly the brain will move out of sync with the skull. Symptoms of concussions can include headaches, confusion, lack of coordination, memory loss, nausea, vomiting, dizziness, ringing in the ears, sleepiness, and excessive fatigue. If your victim lost consciousness for any length of time and is having trouble speaking or understanding your words, you need to get them to the ER. There is no cure for a concussion but the best treatment is pain medication and activities that won’t tax the brain to give it time to recover. There are any number of ways to damage a neck, but generally it happens when a person’s neck is moved suddenly and violently or pushed past its limit. Minor injuries should heal by themselves within a few weeks but if unlucky pain and stiffness can last months or even years. For more major injuries, physical therapy or a neck brace might be necessary but only if the pain lasts longer than a few weeks. It’s also possible to hit someone hard enough to break their neck or fracture their skull but that takes a lot of force. All of these injuries can be avoided by supporting your victim’s head and neck by bracing their head against a surface or holding their head with your hand.

Jaw. It takes surprisingly little force to dislocate a jaw, you can do so with a good slap Dislocations are talked about in Note 3 at the bottom of this primer. Heavy bleeding from gums or a tooth that feels loose could indicate a fractured root. This is a fairly minor issue and if you see a dentist quickly they should be able to fix it back in place with no lasting damage. A tooth that has been knocked out completely should survive; get your victim to rinse their mouth out and rinse the tooth off and shove it back into the gap, and then have them see a dentist to make sure it’s properly seated and avoid chewing with it for a while.

Eyes. A fun combination of fragile and complicated. There's no first aid tips I can give you and it'll be real obvious if something is wrong. I will say you don't have to hit someones eye to give them a black eye, it’s bruising around the eye socket that matters. Also check Note 1 about the use of ice when treating injuries.

Nose. It’s more difficult than you think to break a nose. You definitely can with a good punch but you'll have to really commit. A broken nose isn't that serious (I've broken mine twice now) and isn't even ER worthy. If your victim is leaning backwards after breaking their nose the blood will run down the back of their throat potentially making them vomit or very sick. There is a chance a broken nose will heal in a way that restricts breathing in which case your victim may need surgery.

Cheek bone. Below the temple but above the gum line, running from just bellow their ear to their nose. Special mention to this spot because it’s the best place to hit your victim in the head (in my opinion). This piece of bone is very sturdy and not that risky to fracture. Plus, when you hit them here they have to watch it coming.

Neck. The windpipe, jugular, cranial nerves, vagus nerve, carotid arteries, and spine all live here and damage to any of these can cause permanent disability or death. Seek medical attention if your victim has trouble breathing or swallowing, or a lot of pain or swelling. Stingy tools are far less risky here than thuddy tools.

Shoulders. Note 2 on joints. The shoulder blades can either be an ideal impact location or one of the most risky depending on how it’s sitting. If the shoulder blade is jutting out away from the rest of the back, it’s very easy to damage If it’s laying flat against the back, it’s protected by a thick layer of fat and muscle.

Biceps. Top 4 impact location. The main concern is damaging the elbow and shoulder joints, if hitting in a way that will pull on those joints. Much like with the head, bracing the impact area against a surface will minimize the risk. Repeated hits to this area can temporarily disable the arm, which is fun.

Forearm. As above, the main risk is damaging the adjoining joints. There are also several important blood vessels and nerves running through this area and not a lot of fat an muscle to protect them.

Hands. Very little fat or muscle, mostly tendons, nerves, and cartilage. See Note 2 on joints. Special note to the palm, which hurts like hell but is relatively safe because of the extra muscle and fat in that area, great for punishment. Once again, stingy tools are much less risky than thuddy tools.

Breasts/ biceps. Top 4 impact locations. Thick layers of fat, muscle, and bone protect anything vital.

Sternum. That is the bone running down the center of a person’s chest that connects to their ribs. Not in itself very fragile but the cartilage that connects it to the ribs is easily damaged and will take a long time to heal. A fractured sternum will likely cause shortness of breath and pain when taking deep breaths. There's not much to be done about these injuries just rest and avoiding strenuous activity.

Spine. The single most risky impact location. Any damage to the spine risks permanent paralysis of everything below that point. As ever, stingy tools present less risk than thuddy tools.

Rib cage. Designed to protect a person’s most vital organs, the rib cage is very strong. Fractured ribs will cause pain breathing but aren't particularly serious. Snapped ribs can pierce organs If this happens, it'll be immediately obvious and medical intervention is required to prevent painful death. Special note to the 'floating' ribs at the bottom of a persons rib cage which don't connect to the sternum and are therefore much less resilient. Second special note to the spot right above a persons heart. A significantly hard impact at exactly the wrong moment in their cardiac cycle can stop their heart. They will loose consciousness and you will need to give them CPR until they can be defibrillated. This is ridiculously unlikely but better to mention just in case.

Abdomen. If you feel around your victim’s belly, you can figure out the line where their abdominal muscles sit. If you have them tense these muscles, you can hit them fairly hard with relatively little risk because the muscles plus the fat in that area create a thick layer of protection. (Pro tip: "Stay tense or this will might kill you" is not only true but hot and terrifying). Outside of that area or if they don't tense, there's real risk of bruising or even rupturing their intestines, which carries a 50-70% survival rate depending on how quickly you can get them to the ER. Symptoms to look out for are bloating, diarrhea, loss of appetite, and fatigue. Special note to the kidneys, which sit next to the backbone just below the rib cage and are very easily bruised. The primary symptom to look for is blood when peeing. As always, stingy tools carry less risk than thuddy tools.

Gluteus maximus. That's their butt. Hit it as hard as your victim will let you. Enough has been said about this region; I don't feel the need to recover that ground. Note 4 on bruises.

Genitals. I'm not going to get into CBT, that's a separate kink. But the vagina is very durable as it’s pretty much just flesh and fat on the outside Minimal risk, go to town.

Thigh. Top 4 impact location. Outer thigh will hurt more and bruise more. As with the head and arms, the primary risk is damaging the adjoining joints. Note 4 on bruises because this is the primary place for DVT.

Calf. As above. Shins are also a great location for punishment because they hurt like hell.

Feet. Very similar to hands. The soles of a person’s foot are intended to impact with the ground frequently and with some force, so they can take a fair bit of punishment.

Note 1. Ice. It is no longer suggested injury procedure to use ice to reduce swelling. Yes, it is effective at reducing swelling but we now understand swelling is an important part of the healing process and although ice might make it feel and look better in the short term, it actually increases the amount of time the injury will take to heal. You want the blood to be able to flow to the injury to take away dead cells and bring nutrients and energy.

Note 2. Joints. Neck, spine, shoulders, elbows, wrists, fingers, hips, knees, ankles, and toes. The reason these are almost always labeled "red" or "no go" on impact play body maps is because these are choke points for blood vessels and nerves; they are made of fragile tendons and cartilage, and they have very little padding for protection. They're also important for movement day to day and very difficult to heal properly. If a joint is damaged, you can buy braces for every joint from most pharmacies.

Note 3. Dislocations. If you're lucky, a partial dislocation will relocate by itself if you move the joint around as you normally would, not forcing it or trying to manipulate it with your hand, just moving it with its own muscles. If it does naturally relocate but you still have pain a few weeks later seek a medical professional. If you're unlucky or if it’s a total dislocation, you will have to see a medical professional. DO NOT TRY TO FORCE IT BACK INTO PLACE!

Note 4. Bruises. Normally, bruises are nothing to worry about but there are situations where a deep bruise can be a health concern. If the bruise continues to get worse after a week, there could be a hematoma under the skin, which is like a blood clot, and might need to be removed. The other possible complication is Deep Vein Thrombosis, which is a blood clot and can be lethal, if not treated quickly. With DVT, the symptoms are tenderness, warmth, and a "pulling sensation" which are pretty normal impact play symptoms. But if you're doing impact play at the level that could cause DVT, then you and your victim should know their healing process intimately, so if something feels off or isn't healing right, get them to a medical professional; better safe than dead.

[ms-demeanor]

Can you talk more about why chiropractic practice is on your shit list? Im also curious about why you dislike reflexology

Both are fake and lies, neither works, and chiropractic can literally kill you.

Chiropractic is actively dangerous (can cause strokes VERY easily, do not ever let a chiropractortouch your neck), less effective for musculoskeletal pain than massage (and much less effective than physical therapy) and i am deeply, DEEPLY offended that jackasses who get a degree in fake nerve science call themselves "doctor" and kill people by convincing them to delay cancer treatment or injure kids by convincing parents that asthma is the result of subluxation.

It certainly doesn't help that a chiropractor broke one of my lumbar vertebrae by doing spinal manipulation after diagnosing a subluxation because she diagnosed it by pushing on my back with her fingers instead of doing imaging and the imaging would have shown the bone tumor that became the center of the fracture.

But, like, I hated chiropractors before that, it's just that she was literally my only choice for pain management because i didn't have medical insurance at 25 so i went to see her because i could afford it and have had to periodically rely on mobility aids ever since.

Reflexology is just massage with lies on top, but it still has potential to do real harm if people trust their reflexologists and delay treatment of illness in favor of nonsense ear poking.

[acid-ixx]

Hi! I had a question about batfam x neglected! reader. Will it have a happy ending? Love your work! <3

— masterlist !

hello anon !! now, as much as i love happy endings, and as far as my plans go since ive mostly written out outlines for simply the newer chapters but not much for endings, i would say that it most definitely wouldn't be a happy ending/s in terms of being kidnapped back into the manor (before your boyfriend whisks you away), or (even if i love him a lot) getting together with conner—

all because you've long since given up on your family, so trying to love a newer version of them that coddles you all the time, never having any moment of privacy, being given physical affection that you never quite know how to reciprocate or receive; you're bound to be overwhelmed. sure, you've got what child-you always wanted, always desired, but it's so hard finding an inkling of an answer as to why now did they decide to just love you?

is it because you've matured, or do they only like a version of you that used to chase after them, and now they miss that integral part of your life? is it out of sheer guilt of their neglect— or have they always loved you from the start, just never knowing that they did?

either way, breakdowns are a common factor of your life if you were ever kidnapped. you'll always be held, even if you push them away. always peppered with kisses, or hands that linger on your cheeks and the expanse of your back throughout the shivers of fear that someday they might just snap at you for always fighting back. you're not forced to play the fantasy that everything is normal, that your past traumas were never existent—

bruce ensures you get proper therapy sessions alone (though cameras are always plastered in whichever room you may be) and with the family, you can take your time, that is only one freedom they allow you to have; but he always wishes that you'll soon find joy in the way they care for you; no matter how many years it would take, no matter if you fight back with your nails digging deep into their skin or a hidden weapon ready to drag out a fight you know you'd never win.

and it doesn't help the fact that you feared all of them as much as you loved them back in the past, at the knowledge that they're vigilantes, of their powers and abilities that could easily snap necks or break bones. even if you learn to adjust, their strength will always stay a primordial fear of yours— especially if it were jason's finger that slowly tighten overtime without his knowledge whenever he finds himself cuddling you in the soft, bruce's arms that stay dormant on your back, acting as both your support and cage every time he leads you to another, or damian who could turn anything he holds into a weapon used against anyone who threatens his time with his older sibling, even duke's metahuman ability warrants more panic attacks than fascination on your part, no matter how gentle and approachable he portrays himself to be in front of you.

you know it in yourself that you'll truly never get used to whatever love they throw your way, no matter how little of it was given in the past, or how overwhelming overflowing it is in the near future. it's just who you are, a child of bruce who doesn't truly comprehend their feelings.

and if you ever do adjust, if even possible, who's to say it will get rid of the overbearing sense of doom that unsheathes itself stubbornly upon your beating chest, whispering in every crevice of your mind the possibility that their affections are all a farce; that they'll soon lose interest in you the moment you reciprocate.

as for conner, your ending with him might be considered a happy one, if it means you're completely and perfectly willing to live an isolated life with the man of your dreams. i mean, you've already been neglected and left alone all by yourself for more than a decade— is conner leaving you for just a few minutes or, at most, an hour, speeding through different places to restock your pantry in a home in the middle of nowhere going to affect you that much?

well, the answer is... yes.

once you complied that, yes, you're perfectly fine relying on your man for your wants and needs, your desire for physical affection and even your bodily desires— it quite frankly means you've agreed to become one with him, your life will be full of memories of just you and conner, all alone with nowhere to escape, no place to hide; exposing all the deepest parts of yourself for a man who've you met in a bar.

at first, it would all go well. he's always loving you, nothing about that will change; always basking you in gifts, lavishing your home into various decorations he knows you'd love, holding you whenever you're down or need a shoulder to cry on; that's the reason why you even wanted to be with him in the first place. but what will change is your independence, and the foundations that you built based upon boundaries, will crumble.

there will be no secrets to be kept, no emotions hidden. you can journal, still, and be left alone to your whims but you know that conner will always read your entries, or worship your art right after. eating breakfast, bathing, picking and wearing clothes; all your routine life will be done with him. everything about your relationship focuses purely on codependency, on feelings so viscerally raw and pure to the point you both destroy each other in indulging your wants.

your relationship with conner will soon turn into your addiction on him for every single decision, every moment spent together; every year, months, hours, minute, seconds of your days all dictated into the man you're going to spend the rest of your life with.

even arguments, either small or huge, will always lead to you finding comfort in the arms of the person you fought against. you've nothing but him, he's nothing without you. even fights will dissolve just as quickly because you're too scared that he'll leave you, and conner hates it when you look at him with the same look you display whenever you think of your family.

at least for conner, though, you'd be living a life of raw, undulating pleasure. he'll indulge in you, of course he'd do for his lovely little (soon-to-be) spouse, but you gotta remember that "you're safer with me. okay, baby?" that translates that contact with any other human is rarer than finding specks of gold in a river, and anyone outside of your home life is an immediate threat to conner, who shields your exposure to the public, who kisses and wipes away your tears whenever you'd break down after a fight, who'll always be right behind you when you least expect it.

just like how it's always should've been.

i'm back to answering asks, so feel free to send in some conspiracy theories or whatever guys. it's been quite some time that i did and i miss doing so, so expect more of these especially for my main series and occasionally for loving family, unpalatable desire 😭

anyways, the simple answer for this one is: choose your poison. i'm not implying that these two are the only endings. i have so many paths i want to take and i haven't even introduced an integral character yet to the plot. conner is one of them, but there's another and anyone can guess who it is; but i'm sure barely anyone would get it right unless i drop a hint hehe.

— back to the topic, which one would any of you pick? loved by too many, or loved too much by one 'til it destroys you? or do you choose the secret option and move to a country and change your entire identity and hope to god that nobody else would fall in love with you? i think the last option is most realistic but conner kent is also tempting so...

[katebishopsbaefy]

oh my god 4 and/or 12 with billie i would die🙏

(also i love your writing sm💕)

prompt list

4) slow sex while one or both are injured

words: 607

“This is so dumb… This is so dumb…” she mutters to herself over and over and over. It’s starting to drive you insane.

“Billie, it’s not dumb. It was bound to happen at some point,” you snap, a little harsher than you meant you. When tears fill her eyes, your heart just about shatters.

She’d broken her ankle. Again. This must’ve been, what, the fifth time? It just wouldn’t stay healed, especially not with all of the jumping around she did on tour. She already knew the drill, all the icing and physical therapy and extra precaution that comes with the injury, and she was dreading it. In fact, you both happened to be sitting on the couch, icing her foot like the doctor had told you to do often.

“It is dumb. I didn’t- I don’t understand-” Billie starts, but her tears slowly start to take over.

“Oh, Bil…” you whisper quietly, your voice softening at the tears leaking down her cheeks. You know how hard this has been for her in the past. You hate to see her go through it again. You can’t move her much because you don’t want to jostle her foot, but you reach a gentle hand out to wipe her tears. “Hey… it’ll be fine, I promise. We’ll just… have more time to hang out. That’s not that bad, right?”

When you soften, she softens. She looks up at you with tearful, red eyes and shakes her head, her bottom lip protruding in a small pout. She looks adorable. Miserable, but adorable, and you can tell you might be getting through to her a little. “We can watch so many movies, and you can teach me how to crochet, and I can teach you French, and we can rearrange the whole house… it’ll be fun. I think you need a good break, anyway.”

At all of the suggestions, she can’t help but crack the tiniest, most heartbreaking smile you’ve ever seen. The look alone could make you cry. You cup her damp cheeks in your palms, and softly kiss the tip of her nose as you return the smile. “Can I getchu anythin’ right now?”

She sniffles softly, and her gaze leaves yours for a brief moment. Not for long, though. She’s not one to get very embarrassed when asking you for things. “...Can you take care of me?” she asks in a small voice.

If it’s possible, you soften even more. You can tell what that look in her eyes means; it’s not really about the sex. She just wants to feel close to you. And you want the same thing. “‘Course, baby. Here… lie down…”

It takes a long moment of giggles and almost falling off the couch, but you manage to get her situated with her back propped up against the armrest of the couch with the ice still on her foot. You slowly climb over her and rest your head on her chest, your finger on her clit. You rub soft circles into her, being so incredibly gentle with her. That’s all she deserves: gentleness. When she sighs, you can tell you’re doing a good job. Your lips trail over her neck, not hard enough to leave marks, but just enough to give her even more comfort.

“M’gonna come,” she mumbles through breathy moans and sighs, her body starting to tremble softly under you.

You kiss your way up to her lips, and mumble soft reassurances against them. They might be within the context of the sex, but you really mean them in the context of the long healing journey ahead of her. “I’m right here.”

[creepsterdreams]

heyyy, is it okay to ask for touchstarved li's with a reader who's a hugger? Just something fluffy for the soul. Thankss :D

Fluff is always a win in my book✨plus I have a feeling some of them absolutely LOVE hugs even if they don’t admit it themselves

I hope you enjoy anon! Your very welcomeee ^_^

TOUCHSTARVED headcanons: MC who’s a hugger

Cw: tooth aching fluff, Vere and Mhin being meanies at first, some mentions of violence, some suggestiveness from Vere

LEANDER

You picked just the right man for this

He could be having an entire conversation with someone and if he sees you rushing towards him he opens his warms with a huge smile on his face and waits for you to jump on him

And he will excuse himself and casually walk away with you in his arms

“Excuse me please, it seems someone needs my attention.😁”

The fact that you are a hugger only makes him fall even MORE in love with you

BEAR HUGS

Uses any and every possible excuse to have his arms on or around you

Sitting at the bar of the Wet Wick? He’s draped himself over your body and is cuddling into your nape

Just succeeded at the smallest thing? He’s lifting you up and twirling you around

Just seeing you for the first or last time that day? Your both huddled up and swaying back and forth for at least 5 whole minutes

He’s blackout drunk? Will literally drag you around wherever with an arm around you

It irritates almost everyone around you but they don’t have the heart to say anything about it

You know except Vere, Mhin, and Ais probably-

The amount of times they’ve walked in on you two damn near molded into one, they lost count

“Should we let you two be so you can keep humping each other?” - Vere

Cue Leander’s embarrassed laughing

That still doesn’t stop him though

But in all honesty he loves the fact that you love hugs

Because that means he can be as affectionate as he wants with you :>

But it also means that whenever he’s sad mode he can just…flop into your arms and lay his head on your chest

Trust him when he says that no therapy can top the feeling of your arms wrapped around him while you gently rub his back

Will totally NOT use physical affection as a way to get what he wants

Please hug this man I can tell that he needs it

AIS

Whew boy…this one’s a doozy

He has the option to just hug you back and go about his day, but then again this is Ais we're talking about he refuses to NOT tease you

He see’s you running up to him, opened arms preparing to jump on him and he stands there, not doing a damn thing

He fully allows you to just tackle him and stand there with your arms around him

He stares down at you with that same smug grin

“Feeling touchy today, sparrow?”

Now just because he’s teasing you doesn’t mean he doesn’t like the hugs

In fact he l o v e s them

The rare days he actually does decide to reciprocate the affection he doesn’t let you go for as long as he can

He’s walking into the wet wick with your legs wrapped around his waist and arms on his shoulders, his hands sitting right underneath your butt securing you in his embrace

All everyone can do is just stare at him like “this fucking guy”

CUDDLE PILES WITH THE SOULLESS

Especially princess

The days where it’s extremely cold or he’s just feeling lovey dovey you’ll spend hours huddled up at the seaspring with princess laying across both of your laps and the rest of the soulless surrounding you

Like Leander, uses any possible reason to hug you like it’s the last time he’ll see you

Will walk up to you and lift you up with one arm to spin you around

Do not say your too heavy. He will challenge you on that

The last thing you hear before being lifted up is a raspy “come ‘er you”

The worse days where the voices of the hive mind are clouding any of his own thoughts and making him more loopy than usual, your arms is usually the first thing he seeks

Standing there for long periods of time, his body simply draping itself onto you, his head buried deep into your neck, all he needed was the feeling of your own arms around him, your face pressed against his chest

And just maybe if you listened close enough, you could hear what sounded like purring

KURAS

Hmm

Hmmmmm

I get the feeling that at first he would be caught off guard, not used to the feeling of someone clinging onto him so often

For some time he simply chuckles whenever you hug him and gives you a slightly awkward pat on the back before you pull away

But once he actually starts getting used to your affection, he’s more than happy to give it right back :>

Unlike the others who are fully prepared and have arms waiting for you, this tall man instead stands there with absolutely no intention of moving

He lets you run to him and pull him into a tight hold, paying no attention to what’s happening around him as he rests his hand on the small of your back, gently rubbing it

He never explicitly states that he loves or hates the hugs, but he does never pull away whenever you do it

If you happen to be at the clinic whenever he’s dealing with a patient and you wanted a hug he would tell you as gently as possible to wait a moment

“Give a minute would you my dear, I’ll be with you in a moment.”

Very soft but very firm <3

Does not give a fuck if other people say something about your excessive hugging

He’ll give them a harsh side eye but otherwise say nothing about it 

If there is any chance he wants a hug back, he won’t directly say it, but he will make it known he wants one

Walks up to you and simply says “my love” before grabbing you by the hand to pull you close

It’s sudden, but that doesn’t make it any less wholesome

The kind of man to let you run up and hug him with all of your strength and simply continue the conversation he was having

Imagine one rare night he decides to bring out his wings and wraps them around you to add to the hug

Probably one of the few cases where he’s brought out his wings that wasn’t for “other” reasons

VERE

Wheeewwww all I have to say is, good luck

If you thought Ais was bad with the teasing, Vere will do you one better

The second you wrap your arms around him it’s like he’s programmed to bully you

“Aw well isn’t someone feeling needy.”

He’s not pulling away, but that doesn’t mean he’s shutting up lmao

The first time you did it, he simply stood there. Ears pressed down as his tail was fluffed up

He didn’t know what to do. I don’t think this guy has gotten a genuine hug before

His first instinct was to push you away, but he couldn’t find it in himself to do that. You weren’t attacking him or anything, you were just, embracing him?

Once you did pull away he replaced his initial shock with a smirk, using his pointer finger to lift your chin and ask if you wanted to touch him that badly

It takes him longer than Kuras to get used to your affection, he’s probably only used to being touched if it’s sex related unfortunately

Prefers if you gently wrap your arms around him instead of running up and practically jumping on him

He’ll be damned before he looks like a fool in public

Pray for whoever decides to be brave enough to comment on your hugging because it can go two ways

Vere says fuck it and kills them right there

Or he sends them so many passive aggressive comments they just walk away reevaluating their life

Only HE can bully you

Takes him forever to start coming to you for comfort hugs

It would have been at least some time after you’ve known each other

One day he just straight up drags you away from what your doing, making sure it was just you and him

He then proceeds to damn near suffocate you with his hold, but after a few seconds you hug him back, both of you locked in place, his tail wagging in pure glee

He tells you to pretend it never happened but you can see the way his tail sways whenever you hug him again

MHIN

In all honesty, they are probably the first one to actually push you away the first time you hug them

Not used to physical affection at ALL but also does not desire it

They didn’t mean to be so forceful when they pushed you, they just genuinely weren’t expecting you to be so…so

Affectionate?

So when you run up and jump on them one day after they just finished hunting soulless their all like “⁉️⁉️”

When you look at them with concern they just tsk and look away

“At least ask first.”

Is fully aware of your hugger tendencies they just…don’t know what to do with that

For some time you do ask first if it’s okay to hug them, and they say yes, but then they proceed to just stand there stiff as a board as you love on them

But if anyone dares to bring up your clinginess their quick to snap back at them

ESPECIALLY if it’s anyone besides Kuras

Even if they don’t show it, they do appreciate you being willing to be physically affectionate in anyway

Especially after so many years of them being convinced that no one could love a monster

Also prefers if you would gently hug them than run up, but also wouldn’t mind the second thing

If you do then they just blush and flick you on the head

Because I have a feeling that they are someone that you cannot sneak up on so there’s a good chance they heard you coming💔

After a while (like a few months) they eventually get used to your constant hugging, so if there’s ever a day where you aren’t wrapped around them then they are quick to wonder if your okay

We love soft Mhin

On the very rare days that Mhin ever seeks out your hugs for comfort, they make sure that they make it count

Like Vere, pulls you aside so it’s just the two of you and simply gives you a tight squeeze, with their hand resting on the back of your head

After that pull away and then pretend nothing just happened but you can see the blush on their face <3

[beuxwhoyouare]

The Innovation

We stood in a line waiting for Jordan to make his way towards us one by one.

“What’s your name, height, age, and role?” Jordan, the tall scientist and my relatively new friend asked me in a way that felt colder than our usual interactions.

“Riley Michael Kingston. I’m 5’ 10” 28 years old and I’m a research assistant.”

The latest cuts left our university’s research labs unable to pay lab participants. We had to get thrifty so some of the research assistants stepped up to be participants in one another’s projects. Admittedly I got to take part in one of the coolest ones left here. The creation of a semi-autonomous exoskeleton meant to help disabled people do things they currently couldn’t.

Jordan was so different outside of the lab, it was so weird to see him being so professional instead of being just chill. Up until this point we’ve tested limbs individually but today was going to be our first full exoskeleton tests. He’s been so busy this week working on preparations. Truthfully I didn’t know the full suit would require this much more prep but up until this point it’s been a pretty calm experience. Just coming in and doing remedial physical therapy routines with a mechanical limb for an hour.

Today we were apparently doing much more than that but I didn’t know how far we were going. I walked in to see the full exoskeleton hung up on hooks and wires.

“Strip down to your underwear, I have to place a few nodes on you to prepare you properly.” Jordan calmly directed.

“Oh? I didn’t know we were getting this intimate today. Also I thought this was an EXO-skeleton. Meaning it goes outside my limbs. It looks like you build a whole mechanical body?” I noted.

“It’s a lot more complicated than just an exoskeleton study. Also you’re gonna feel a little pinch with this neck node. It has a needle for monitoring. Don’t worry it won’t hurt once it’s in.”

Before I could interject to ask more, I felt the node get stabbed in.

Jordan guided me to an upright platform and instructed me to get onto it face forward to not obstruct the nodes. In an IV in my hand he injected something before I could question him again.

“Count backwards from 200.” Jordan told me.

I didn’t know I was going to be knocked out for this? But it was too late to object, I just obliged ignorantly. Before I knew it, I passed out but almost immediately I felt awake again, minus the sight. It felt like the haziness of a dream but the clarity of being awake.

“Oh he’s waking up, wait here. Riley you’re awake, good. Lemme turn that on so you can see again.” Jordan said coldly once again.

What does that even mean? Before I could ask, my sight returned but it felt very sharp? Like artificial and digital, very impersonal.

I tried to get up and move but was held back by the hooks…..and wires? Huh? As I tried to look down all I could see was translucent white covering a bunch of white wires. I was on the opposite side of the room I was on previously.

“What’s going on?” I said in a voice that sounded amplified more than projected through a diaphragm.

“Well it’s part of the experiment. I’m not exactly making an exoskeleton. The goal has been two pronged. One, to create a new corporal form to let people with terminal illnesses live longer and not be robbed of their lives. And two, program a learning model that can exist inside existing bodies of criminals that receive the death penalty. A perfectly good body shouldn’t go to waste just because the wrong person is piloting it. This way we can expedite reform. Take the broken parts out and put a brand new upstanding citizen back into the world.”

Riley put one and two together as he struggled on the wires. Part one of the experiment worked clearly. Somehow he was consciously inside of the full robotic body. But what about part two?

“…so if I’m part one did part two work?” I said as angry as this form would let me sound.

“Well let’s find out.” Jordan said walking across the lab to the area I was previously in.

“Okay open your eyes.”

The learning model doing as it was told like it’s programmed to do. Without the restrictive parameters of wiring, it looked down and managed to tilt its new form upward from the hooks. It raised its new head and looked right at Jordan with an empty look at its face that almost registered as a puppy dog face.

“Your name is Riley Michael Kingston. You are 5’ 10” 28 years old and you’re a research assistant. Please repeat your information and introduce yourself to this machine.” Jordan said as gesturing to me as he guided my former body in front of me to be able to see.

“Oh and take off your shirt.” Jordan slyly requested as a maniacal grin rose on his face knowing his request would be enacted.

“Hello. I am Riley Michael Kingston. I’m 5’ 10” 28 years old and I’m a research assistant.”

There were no organs inside of me but I was the closest I could be to feeling my stomach drop.

“Riley please go put on the clothes in that box over there we have to test your cognitive abilities. I need to speak to this machine briefly.” Jordan said, his words digging into me like a knife.

“Jordan I’m glad this all worked but what are you doing? Why didn’t you tell me this was the extent of the exp-“

“That’s enough.” Jordan flipped a switch turning off the hanging exoskeleton.

“Okay ‘Riley’ let’s see how much muscle retention there is in your new form.”

Jordan instructed the new Riley meticulously through an extensive exercise routine. The learning model may be good at listening but it’s not good at autonomy and human limits. His body yearned for water and a break but he continued to push it. As he broke a sweat, a limit was reached during a bench press that almost ended deadly. The new Riley knew it reached its limit and defied Jordan’s command for the first time.

Jordan was surprised at the first sign of autonomy and noted it. As he began firing question after question to ‘Riley’ about why he stopped. Jordan realized the learning model was quite literally learning limits and its own autonomy and realized it was evolving faster than he could’ve expected. He simultaneously feared the breakthrough while also fearing losing the new ‘Riley’s’ naivety.

“Alright let’s go for a swim. Put this on.” Jordan rushed to the pool for selfish motives.

Riley’s body was insane and Jordan knew the real Riley never saw him as anything more than someone he worked with. But Jordan couldn’t let that just be. As the learning model robotically maneuvered his new human form in front of Jordan, the scientist objectified his former colleague knowing there would no longer be repercussions. As they arrived to the private research pool Jordan instructed the model to turn around. He approached the new Riley and planted a kiss on his motionless lips.

There was no reciprocation and he knew he had to take matters into his own hands. He began graphically describing his dream night of carnal embrace with Riley to the learning model. Giving it a play by play on what to do, down to the kiss, the tongue motion, slight neck grab, exploratory hand movements, and even the moments they would both get hard. The moment Jordan said go, the learning model enacted every single action described.

Once Jordan unsheathed the speedo he forced ‘Riley’ to wear. He wickedly grimaced at the girthy sight before opening it to welcome the thick new pole down his throat. This was everything he ever wanted.

[himblebo]

Today self care looks like pre ordering a fatm mermaids crewneck

[thebibliosphere]

Every time someone well-meaning suggests I see a chiropractor for my migraines, I have this little moment of "ah, you're new here. You weren't here prior to 2018 when a chiropractor very gently adjusted my neck for my migraines, and I ended up having to get an emergency MRI because the ensuing symptoms were indicative of a brain bleed."

It wasn't a brain bleed. The muscles on the entire right side of my neck "just" tore (Spoiler there is nothing "just" about that kind of traumatic injury. I am still in physical rehab for it), and I couldn't hold my head up, see straight, walk or do any of the things I'd previously taken for granted until several weeks later when the area finally started to heal.

This was before I knew I had Ehlers Danlos, btw. But this is true even for people who don't have a connective tissue disorder: Don't let chiropractors touch your neck.

There are a lot of vital nerves and blood vessels there, and even gentle adjustments of the area can have life-threatening consequences.

I know chiropractic care can be pain relieving--I still get it for my lower back and hips because I work with a chiropractor who knows about Ehlers Danlos Syndrome, and sometimes my hips need to be popped back in at short notice, and it's easier to hop walk in and see her than wait for physical therapy--but it is a short-term relief that doesn't actually correct why something is happening.

If you can afford it, physical therapy will likely help more in the long term. I know not everyone can afford it, and that's why chiropractors have such a booming trade in the US, but please, I'm begging you, don't get your neck adjusted.

The spinal cord specialist I saw after my injury told me the number one reason he used to see people for traumatic brain injuries was car wrecks, followed by other major roadside injuries. He said those numbers were still the highest, but after that, the majority of his patients were survivors of chiropractic injury.

Do Not Get Your Neck Adjusted.

It's been over 5 years, and I still can't move my neck properly on my right side. I still struggle to eat and drink because my muscles will randomly seize up. It feels like my skull no longer fits on top of my spine because of the scar tissue. Please. I just want people to be safe.

And if you are a chiropractor reading this and thinking, "Well, I've never injured anyone, skill issue." No. You Have Gotten Lucky. Rethink how you apply your trade. Please, you can still help people while recommending safer options for specific body parts. Learn to do pressure point release and acupressure. Teach patients how to stretch and relax the area safely. Just fucking stop cracking people's necks like pop rock candy.

[masonmontz]

heey everyone, how are you? :)

REMEMBER: english is not my first language

smut (unprotected sex, praise) word count: 2,5k

✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹

“Oh… fuck.” Mason groaned as he came and leaned his head against the cold wall from the locker room bathroom, while still making light movements in his dick. Mason got goosebumps, he really wanted it to be your hand there. “Fuck.”

It was torturous having you massage his leg in physical therapy, no one would understand how horny you made Mason. He had just played the first half and was left alone in the locker room to take a cold shower. He was horny for half the game and will be lucky if no one notices in the photos that his dick was hard as a rock.

He closed his eyes, his breathing quickening as he thought about the sight of your breasts on top of him during the afternoon. It was really hard to concentrate on the rest of the day while Mason was in such bad pain in his balls, he just wanted to get back to the hotel and get relief, but he couldn't take it anymore and had to go to the locker room shower, knowing that some players were outside.

All Mason wanted was to get between your legs and fuck you, fill your neck with marks and kisses and lose himself in your pussy. No one knew, but you and Mason used to meet up in the corners of Carrington, or he would show up at your house just to have sex and leave, and that was fine, you also showed up when you wanted to have sex and Mason was okay with that.

Mason just came, but he couldn't stop imagining your lips around his dick, you kneeling looking up at him, and he felt his cock getting hard once more. He looked like a horny teenager and knew he would only calm down when he could get his naughty thoughts about you out of his head. 

It was so hot in the United States, Mason was upset to be going back to England in a few days. He knew he would be back in the rainy and cold weather and he would miss the warmth, especially since he saw you walking around the hotel in short clothes and that was not common in England.

“God, help me.” Mason begged the universe, but decided to get out of the shower, knowing that he needs to go back to the pitch and watch the rest of the match. He didn't hear anyone else talking and figured the players had left, so he wrapped the towel around his waist and even though he wanted to jerk off again, he decided not to.

You were taking the dry towels to the locker room, since the other players would be showering after the match and things needed to be organized. You were the physiotherapist, but sometimes you did a little bit of everything to make things easier for them.

As soon as you left the towels on the counter, the door to one of the showers opened and Mason came out with the towel around his waist. You were startled and tried to ignore the drops of water running down his body.

“Sorry, Y/N, I didn’t know you were here.” Mason spoke and you noticed he was red in the face and panting. 

“Hey, is everything okay? Are you feeling sick?” You got closer and Mason's face got redder, you looked at his body to see if there were any notable injuries but the only thing you noticed was... that he was excited. “Oh.”

The bulge was straining against the towel, and you felt your own face turn red as you caught Mason in an indecent moment. It was inevitable and you bit your lips, feeling your mouth go dry as other thoughts crossed your mind. Wild thoughts.

“Please, help me.” Mason whispered, placing his hand on his cock and moving it up and down, still with the towel. 

“Mason, we can't do this here, someone might come.” You scolded and approached him, looking back to see if anyone from the team was there. “Were you masturbating in the shower?”

“Because you had those boobs in my face during the pregame massage and I couldn't stop thinking about it. I spent the first half of the game so horny, it was hurting so much.” 

“You're so stupid, why didn't you wait until you got to the hotel?” Mason grabbed you by the arm and pulled you against him, knowing you couldn't resist him. 

“Because you're so fucking hot and all I thought about was fucking you the whole game, please I just came so hard, it felt like you sucked me off, I just want to cum again.” 

Mason pulled your hand down to the bulge on his hip and you sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to give up. You and Mason were like fire and gasoline, you exploded when you were together. You got along well, and Mason was desperate to fuck you. 

Who were you to say no, when you liked danger as much as he did?

You looked back at the empty locker room, but you knew anyone could walk in and that made you excited. Mason pulled you and took you to one of the showers, closing the door and pushing you against the wall.

“Mason, my clothes are going to get wet.”

“Shh, what's the difference if i'm going to make you wet too?” He ran his lips down your neck and pushed his body against you. The Manchester United uniform you were wearing was soft and so you could feel Mason perfectly. He took off his towel and threw it on the floor, and you drooled at the sight of his naked body, even though you had seen it many times before.

“Why are you so stubborn?” You pulled Mason's face towards you, so he kissed you. Mason is a good kisser, but your favorite kisses are when he's horny and wants to fuck you until your legs are shaking. 

Mason slid his tongue across yours and his hands were already pulling at your shirt, so he quickly took it off and left you in just your bra. He was going to throw the shirt on the floor but you forbade it, so you held it and moved away to hang it on the wall. And to tease him, you turned your back and took off your pants, sticking your ass out for him and showing off the black lingerie you were wearing.

Mason liked to tease, but so did you, and he went crazy when you did that.

As soon as you set your pants aside, Mason grabbed you from behind and pressed his erection against you, and you moaned without realizing it, but Mason quickly placed his hand over your mouth to keep you quiet.

“You don't want someone to catch us here, do you?” You threw your head back as Mason pressed you closer, placing your head on his neck as he trailed kisses down your shoulders and slid his hands down your body, unclasping your bra and taking it off.

Mason ran his hand over your breasts then pinched your nipple, making you close your eyes and sigh, feeling the heat grow inside you. He was so good with his hands, with his mouth, that you were always surprised by the things he did to you.

“Don't mess with me then, I don't want to get caught.”

“What's the point if it's not dangerous?” 

“Do your job, Mason.” 

Mason laughed and turned you to face him, kissing you once more. Mason brought his hands to the middle of your legs and pressed your clit through your panties with his thumb, and you sighed, because Mason knows exactly where to touch.

You brought your hand to Mason's cock and made slow movements up and down, hearing him sigh and kiss your neck. Mason was so sensitive. You pressed the slit of his cock slowly and Mason squirmed, bringing his hand to yours and helping you with the movements. 

“Yeah… fuck, this feels so good.” Mason grabbed your hand and pressed it against his cock, speeding up his movements and you felt it throb over your fingers. 

Mason let go of your hand and pulled your panties down, quickly bringing his fingers to your wet entrance, sliding his fingers through the soft slit and you sighed, bringing your mouth to his shoulder to moan without anyone hearing. 

Mason slid a finger inside you while you were still jerking him off, then you realized he was desperate and it was one of those days Mason didn't want games, just relief. You thought of him being turned on the whole game, in pain and wanting your hands or your mouth around his cock. 

“Did you think about me while you were playing?” You asked softly and pulled his lip with your teeth, then stopped the movements with your hand around his dick and pushed him against the wall. Mason sighed because of the cold wall.

Mason inserted another finger into you and increased his movements, watching as you closed your eyes and bit your lip, then you lifted one leg and Mason held it, helping you stand as you brought your hands to his hair and pulled.

“All the fucking time.” He responded and kissed you, then Mason took his fingers out of you and brought them to your mouth, making you suck both fingers. Mason felt his own cock throb at the sight, imagining it was his cock in your mouth. “I just wanted to fuck you and feel that wonderful pussy.”

You grabbed his wrist and put it around your neck, making Mason squeeze you. 

“Please just do this so I can get back to my work.” Mason raised an eyebrow and smiled, then turned you around so that your back was to him once more, placing you against the wall. You sighed as Mason pulled your hair and pressed his body against you, and you felt him bring his hand down to his cock and place it against your pussy, sliding and teasing you a little, until he thrust his entire length hard inside you. 

You moaned loudly as he filled you, so Mason quickly brought his hand to your mouth so you wouldn't make any noise. He pulled your head against him as he made quick movements from behind and filled you so well. You rested your head on his shoulder, trying to hold on to the wet wall. 

“Oh, Mason.” You tried to moan, even with his hand covering your mouth. You had your eyes closed and felt Mason's breath in your ear, sending shivers down your entire body as you heard him sigh too.

“I've waited so long to fuck you like this.” He brought his other hand up to your hair, pulling once more while with the other he tried to keep you still, but the sound of his hips hitting your ass was loud enough for anyone to hear. “Hm- yeah, so fucking good.” 

Mason took his hand off your hair and slid it down your body, bringing it to your clitoris and making quick movements with his fingers. Having sex with Mason was good because he knew exactly what to do, because you spent time discovering each other's bodies the first few times. 

“Oh god.” You mumbled against his palm, and Mason pulled out of you only to thrust in again. Mason made you bend over a little more, then he picked up your shirt that was hanging on the door and handed it to you. 

“Bite this.” You did as he said, and Mason held your hips with both hands as he moved back and forth behind you, movements so fast just to cum and relieve himself of all the excitement that filled you both. “Yeah, good girl.” 

You rolled your eyes, Mason knows you don't like it when he says that, but he does it to tease you and there's nothing you can do to make him stop. A heat ran through your body, and Mason was making clumsy movements, so you knew he was close to cumming again. 

You bit your shirt harder, but it was no use when the sound of your skin touching was as loud as a moan. If anyone was outside in the locker room, they would know there were two people there.

Mason pulled you up again and pressed his chest against your back, he made a few more movements and when he held you against him tightly, you felt him cumming inside you. The orgasm exploded inside you and you felt your inner walls press against Mason's cock as you came at the same time as him, letting out sighs while still biting the fabric of your blouse.

“Oh, fuck, it gets better every time.” Mason whispered against your ear while you still felt him throb. You brought your hands to his neck, holding and removing the blouse from your mouth. 

“I know.” That's what you managed to say, still trying to recover. Mason was holding you and that was probably what was keeping you from falling, as your legs were shaking like jelly. 

Mason pulled his cock out of you and you felt the liquid dripping down between your legs. Mason brought his fingers between your legs and touched your sensitive clit, you gasped at his touch, but he just wiped some of what had dripped and ran it over your nipples. 

“You look messy.” He chuckled softly and left a kiss on your hair, still behind you. You smiled tiredly at him, then pulled away a little and turned to him, putting your arms around his shoulder and giving him a calm kiss. 

“It's your fault, I hope no one notices.” You grabbed your clothes and decided to put them on, knowing that you would soon go to the hotel and could take a peaceful shower, and who knows, Mason might join you again. 

Mason picked up the towel on the floor which was now completely wet, but he didn't care and wrapped it around his waist again. He waited for you to put on your clothes and gave you another kiss, pulling you against him, then Mason quickly fixed your messy hair. 

“There you go, no one knows that you had sex in the bathroom with number 7.” 

“You like bragging about that number, don't you?” Mason smiled at you, shrugging. He gave you one last kiss and opened the door, checking to make sure no one was around to see you. Mason nodded and you quickly left, grabbing your slippers and running out, walking slowly and quickly checking yourself in a mirror, then you ran back to the physical therapy area, leaving Mason behind.

Mason shook his head and smiled to himself, and even though once again you just had sex, he liked you and he knew that if things continued like this, he could fall in love. He pushed the thoughts away, but he was already wondering what time he would show up at his room for another round.

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader

[Chapter 29] || [Chapter 31]

Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.4K~ cw: injuries + recovery Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: johnny is a filthy man :) but also we love him so is that a problem? no, it's not.

Chapter 30: Playing House

It took a while, but, Simon got healthy, and John and Kyle got their soreness’ settled enough to be able to go back to work.

Johnny, however, needed a little extra TLC. Being shot in the shoulder involved a longer period of medical leave, paired with a long while of physical therapy…

And that means that he decided to make himself your problem.

The rest of the lads left on a mission a few days after being cleared and, as such, left Johnny with you. Not because the lad is incapable of looking after himself, but more so because he, himself, decided he didn’t want to be away from you.

And so, whenever you leave for work, Johnny leaves for PT, then, goes to base for a bit, mostly doing work on things that he can feasibly do without straining his left shoulder/arm… Like doing paperwork and reports, going to the gym for cardio, crunches, and leg and hip workouts… Then he comes home to you.

He goes shopping for you, cooks you dinner, cleans after the two of you, despite your insistence that he rest… But, as it turns out, Johnny isn’t good at that.

Nonetheless, the flat is cleaner than ever before, Johnny’s drawing supplies are permanently stationed on the dining room table, next to your laptop, and some of his clothes have taken a permanent spot in your closet.

And, of course, he spends every night in your bed, spooning you from behind and hiding his face in your neck while you watch tiktoks, talk, or he regale you with the most ridiculous of puns.

In a way, it’s like Johnny MacTavish is your live-in boyfriend. Or, rather, that you’re playing house with him.

You wouldn’t say you hate it. In fact, it’s quite nice to have someone staying with you all night… Johnny is a good partner, he’s helpful and chill and provides wonderful cuddles…

Though you’ve jokingly started calling him ‘Johnny Price’, because, since he hasn’t been working for a month now, he’s let his beard grow out. And he looks like Price more often than he does not.

It’s on week three of your new routine with Johnny when you’re at work, that you get a text from him:

Johnny: guess what bonnie. Johnny: [1 Video Attachment]

You definitely should’ve put on some headphones before you watched that video during work… His grunting and groaning was almost pornographic and definitely earned you a few confused/worried looks from your coworkers…

But all you could think of was how he was finally easing back into his arm/shoulder workouts, which meant he finally got cleared by his PT to do as such!

you: did you finally get cleared johnny? 🥺 Johnny: cleared at 50%. Johnny: not there yet. but soon. you: I’M SO PROUD OF YOU! 🫶🫶🫶 Johnny: thank ye bonnie  you: this calls for a celebration! Johnny: i like how ye think bonnie but im not cleared yet to be able to manhandle ye 😏 you: get ur mind out of the gutter johnny price!!!!!!!! Johnny: oof not ye still calling me that! you: ur beard is looking like his what do u expect of me! 🙄 Johnny: yer right idk what i expected. Johnny: so about this celebration. you: i was thinking we go out for dinner? Johnny: are we going to dress up nice? you: i wasn’t thinking we’d go somewhere super fancy because i do not have money johnnyyyy Johnny: oh good because i dont think i can button up a shirt my shoulder is sore 😖 you: okay then! nando’s!!! 🫶  you: and i’ll give you a shoulder rub when we get home Johnny: speaking my language bonnie.

And so that’s what you did. You went home in a hurry to shower and change, and, for once, Johnny wasn’t there, having chosen to shower and change at base.

You met up in front of the Nando’s closest to your flat and you immediately chuckled at the sight of him. Sure, he had changed, but he was still very much wearing a pair of jeans, sneakers and a grey zip-up hoodie… Although you could very obviously tell he was naked beneath the hoodie.

“Mo leannan.” He murmured in an exaggeratedly polite tone as he popped the door open for you with his good arm.

“Thank you, my good sir…” You joked, which caused you both to chuckle and shake your head.

You got inside, ordered your food and, as you talked, you site adjacent to him, right on his left side, so you could gently rub his arm with your hand.

“Do you miss the lads?” You ended up asking him as you caressed his bicep and shoulder with your hand, watching him wince a bit at it, because he felt so sore from his first workout.

“A little.” Johnny admitted as he looked toward you. “Do you miss ‘em?” He returned the question. You found yourself nodding in reply.

“Having you here is wonderful though… I… quite miss you lot when you’re all gone together. Not to mention I worry sick for you.” You admitted and pressed your lips together a bit awkwardly.

“You do?” He asked you, to which you nodded. So, he continued. “Well.. I guess I understand. I imagine my mam and sisters worry about me too… As do the Kyle and the Captain’s families.” He conceded.

“That’s actually…” You found yourself trailing off as the waiter brought you your orders and you thanked him, unboxing your food so you could dig in.

“As I was saying…” You trailed off. “That’s actually an interesting point… I feel like I know very little about you and the guys’ when it comes to your personal lives… Outside of hobbies and what you do with me.” You mused as you glanced at him as he dug into his double chicken burger one-handed.

“I don’t know much about the others myself to be honest with you.” Johnny admitted as he stole one of your chips off your plate.

“Really?” You asked softly as you ate your own sandwich yourself, nodding along as he continued speaking.

“We try to keep our… ‘outside’ lives under wraps. Even being a team… what we talk about is always very superficial.” He trailed off.

“So you don’t know anything about the rest of them, nor them about you?” You cocked a brow in confusion.

“Oh, no, bonnie, I talk about myself a whole lot, I’m a blabber mouth, me.” He joked and winked at you. “But family is one of those topics that’s best kept under wraps in our line of work.” He told you as he leaned in, rubbing his thumb on the corner of your mouth to wipe it clean of peri-peri sauce. Then, he sucked his own thumb clean.

“What about me? Do I get to know about you?” You asked him playfully as you leaned forward, setting your elbow on the table as you lean in to him, eyebrows raised in intrigue.

“Tell ye what, bonnie.” Johnny leaned toward you too, licking his fingers clean and then wiping them on a napkin before he set a hand on your thigh under the table. “Anything I tell ye about my family is not going to do them justice… So how about I take ye up to meet my family over the summer… And ye meet them directly? Could even take the Captain, Simon and Kyle with us.” He offered.

Your eyes widened a bit and you blinked away the surprise, staring at him like he had grown a second head.

“Meeting your family? Really? Isn’t it a bit early for that…?” You chuckled a bit sheepishly.

“Aye, maybe it is…” He trailed off. “But at this point, I’m basically livin’ wit ye and ye’ve looked after me in sickness, haven’t ye?” He joked. “And I’ve fended off yer ex… so I’ve looked after ye in health, haven’t I?”

Rolling your eyes in amusement, you shook your head. You knew he was just joking, the look in his eyes showed it… “Are you implying that we’re married, Johnny?” You teased him playfully.

“I’m just saying…” He trailed off playfully, a playful smirk on his lips. “And, if we were married, not saying that we are,… I’d make sure to take ye home tonight and rearrange yer guts if ye let me, mo leannan.”

Looking away and biting your lip, you couldn’t help but chuckle. “Shut it…” You trailed off. “You need to rest, your shoulder’s bad still.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t use my mouth on ye… and that you can’t be on top.” He added before he grabbed another one of your chips and popped it in his mouth.

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@thriving-n-jiving , @blckbrrybasket

[ms-demeanor]

are there really chiropractors out there right now who are claiming they can treat all that stuff?? im really actually asking because ive never seen anything like that at all, but obviously i might just be really lucky. i constantly see people saying chiropractors claim they can treat everything, and its just baffling to me. my chiropractor is pretty young (so maybe she just doesnt have the same attitude as older ones?) and went to med school for physical therapy before becoming a chiropractor, and shes the only doctor out of the dozens ive seen who already knew what hyper-mobile ehlers-danlos syndrome is before meeting me. shes never once said anything about treating anything at all beyond the issues in my back from my muscles going whack, and has actually suggested i see a physical therapist (and referred me to one) to strengthen my back so i dont have to see her very often. i assumed that was the normal experience with chiropractors, but did i just luck out? are the majority of chiropractors really insane and claiming they can cure diabetes and stuff?? thats so crazy to think about...

Just to clarify: your chiropractor is not a doctor. Having a doctorate in physical therapy does not make one an MD, having a DC degree does not make one an MD. People who become physical therapists go to school for physical therapy, but that wouldn't really be called medical school any more than getting a degree in nutrition would be called medical school.

I want to be very firm here because you're using the words "medical school" and "doctor" and that indicates to me that she IS claiming to be more than what she actually is, which is a chiropractor and possibly a physical therapist, both of which have requirements that pale in comparison to the training that MDs (or even nurse practitioners or physician's assistants) go through. But chiropractors really like to let people believe that they're doctors. They're not. They're chiropractors.

It's a very good thing that your chiropractor has told you to seek other care for your back pain; neck and spinal adjustments are potentially life threatening to people who don't have connective tissue disorders and are *extremely* dangerous and an even greater risk for people who DO have hypermobility issues (check out what @thebibliosphere has to say about chiropractic and EDS). A licensed physical therapist will be able to do much, much more for you than a chiropractor, and is a MUCH safer choice.

Now, all of that being said:

Yeah it's super common for chiropractors to claim they can treat all kinds of nonsense and when they're doing so it is probably technically illegal and if they actually treat stuff it's probably technically practicing medicine without a license and can be really fucking dangerous if it convinces people to forgo evidence-based treatment.

Here's a chiropractor in LA claiming to treat a laundry list of ailments:

Here's one also in LA county whose yelp photo is of her doing spinal manipulation on a baby (Literally never ever let a chiropractor treat your child it can no-shit kill them) and offering prenatal and perinatal care

Here's a guy in North Hollywood claiming to treat asthma and allergies with chiropractic:

It's not the majority of chiropractors, but it's more than you'd want.

[thefreakandthehair]

I just wanna see that smile

wc: 1.1k | tags: canon-compliant injury/recovery, hospital setting, getting together, (brief and inferred mutual) pining, first kiss

a/n: happy (belated) birthday to my pal, @firefly-party! kei drew this piece last year and it was one of the first artworks we talked about when we became friends. this series has continued to live in my brain ever since, so I decided to write a little something in the universe!

Eddie woke up on March 26th, 1986 and Steve’s waited patiently for this moment ever since. 

Well, patient is a misnomer— he’d waited quietly to anyone not named Robin or Dustin. Robin, because she knows him too well and there’s no point in trying to hide anything from her and Dustin, because he’d apparently grown up overnight and pieced together that Steve sitting at Eddie’s bedside and holding his fucking hand every time he waltzed into the room meant something. 

Or maybe it was when Steve gave Eddie all of his rings back, sliding them carefully onto his shaking fingers with a comforting smile. 

Or maybe when Eddie sat up unassisted for the first time and Steve nearly hit the ceiling, bracing him in a panic as if all of his stitches and staples would burst with the tiny movement he’d been working toward in physical therapy. 

Hell, maybe it was Steve taking over some of Eddie’s care for himself, washing his hair and braiding it because the staff at Hawkins Memorial are doing nothing more than the bare minimum to make sure they don’t get sued, or even more frightening, reamed out by the new duo of Hopper and Wayne again. Either way, his hair was making Steve’s own scalp itchy. 

Dustin never tells Steve what it was exactly that tipped him off but whatever it was, it’s enough for Dustin to give Steve the floor when Eddie’s getting ready to discharge back home. And that’s how, exactly two months later to the day from Eddie waking up, Steve enters Eddie’s otherwise empty room armed with a special treat in the form of milkshakes to find Eddie pouring over an unfortunately familiar stack of papers. 

“NDA?” Steve asks, nodding at the papers in Eddie’s lap. He’s upright, fully dressed in the black sweatpants Jeff brought by and a cut off Metallica tee shirt, bandages around his stomach and neck. 

Eddie mutters as he reads under his breath, eyes flitting across the page. 

“How the fuck do they expect any of us common folk to understand a fucking word of this? Hereby? Wherein? Hitherto? What fucking year did I wake up in, man?”

“Yeah, I think the whole point is that you don’t read what you’re signing but I’ll let you in on a little secret.” Steve huffs a small laugh through his nose as he steps carefully around Eddie’s crutches. “You may as well just sign it because if you don’t, they’ll forge it anyway. Now finish signing your life rights away so you can have this milkshake with me.” 

Eddie perks up, looking away from the mess of papers and smiling up at Steve with a smile so genuine, it punches the air out of his lungs. He keeps looking at him like this, like Steve’s a breath of fresh air, like he's someone Eddie wants to have around. 

Steve isn’t sure what to do with that look yet, but he’s sure glad it’s there. 

“Celebration milkshakes? Is this a freedom gift?” Eddie signs the NDA quickly and sets the pen down on the bed next to him. 

“It sure is. Figured this could make up for all those lame popsicles from the cafeteria.” 

The mattress creaks as Steve sits down on the edge, just to the side of the railing, and hands Eddie the strawberry treat. Their fingers graze, Steve’s chilled and Eddie’s warm. His hand is still a little shaky, trembling as he takes hold of the cup, but they’re warm and warm means alive. 

Eddie’s hand can tremble for the rest of his goddamn life so long as it’s always warm. 

They each take a sip, smooth ice cream slurping up their straws, and after a moment, Eddie sighs.

“Is it weird that I’m actually sort of worried about leaving?” 

Steve’s eyebrows knit together, looking down at Eddie’s rings glinting beneath the offensive fluorescent lights above them.

“What are you worried about?”

“Uh, well, I did almost die. And the town still wishes I did. It’s a lot easier to make those dreams a reality outside of these walls, y’know? And I’m uh…” Steve watches as Eddie takes a breath and Steve suddenly misses the early days when Eddie was connected to the heart rate monitor. 

“You’re…?” Steve presses, sipping his milkshake again to appear casual. 

“I see you all the time here. Guess I just don’t want that to change.” 

Steve’s heart skips a beat, clattering in his chest and pounding at his ribs, desperately trying to crack him right open and run to the man who’s claimed it. Eddie watches him with cautious eyes, opens his mouth to say something else but Steve cuts him off before he can take it back. 

“Why do you think that’d change? Forest Hills is a lot closer than this shithole, and you won’t be kept under lock and key. And as for the first thing, well, Wayne and Nancy have a lot in common and I have a bat loaded up with nails in the trunk of my car.” Steve rests his free hand on Eddie’s knee. “No one's gonna fuck with you. Don’t worry about that.” 

“You sound a little cocky there, Stevie.” Eddie lifts one eyebrow, glancing from Steve’s hand up to his eyes. “Ready to fight for my honor or something?”

“Yep.” 

He hadn’t brought the milkshakes intending to use them as props, but he’s glad he has something to do to fill the space as Eddie watches him with questioning eyes. As he slurps through the straw, grating noise still preferable over the awkward silence, Eddie’s pinched expression turns softer, realization dawning between the stark white walls of the hospital and the pink ice cream in both of their hands. 

“You’re serious.” Eddie says. 

“Took you that long to figure that out?” Steve teases. 

“I’ve been a little busy with learning how to breathe and walk again. Y’know, just little things.” Eddie rolls his eyes with that same fond smile, free hand lacing its fingers through Steve’s. “So what you’re saying is that I’ll see you just as much outside of this prison as I have inside of it?” 

Steve shrugs. “Probably even more, honestly. There are no visiting hours at Wayne’s, and it’s not like I have a job to rush off to these days. You’re stuck with me, Ed. At least for as long as you want me around.” 

Eddie snorts, unceremoniously scoffing in Steve’s face as if in disbelief.

“Don’t make promises like that. What happens when I never want you to leave?” 

The air shifts, growing heavier as they find themselves leaning closer, two satellites orbiting one another by nothing but gravitational pull. 

Steve’s not sure who actually closes the gap, but he finds himself with his lips pressed against Eddie’s— sweet, chilled, a little chapped but smiling against his. Months of waiting, of hoping that he’d get this opportunity, come to a deafening crescendo and it takes all of his discipline to not push. Instead, they pull apart and Steve smiles, tucking loose hair behind Eddie’s ear. 

“That’s easy. I’d just never leave.”

fun fact: kei, I wrote your birthday down in my calendar as the 28th for some reason, a solid ten days late, so know that this was planned from the get-go but was just a tad bit late.

[taleeater]

Fragile Part 9

Generation: Bayverse TMNT

Tmnt x Reader Fanfic

Pronouns: Gender Neutral (except ‘babe’ and ‘princess’)

Warnings: injury, fluff, not proof read

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

When you awoke, you felt a heavy weight across your chest. You blinked your eyes open and looked around. 

The sight that greeted you made you grin. Mikey was sprawled like a starfish across your queen sized bed, snoring away with an arm thrown over your midsection. Poor Donnie was confined to huddle up on his side on the very edge of your bed, in his attempt to be closer to you. Leonardo, when you looked, was sitting on the floor fast asleep with his shell resting against the side of the bed.

All that was left was-

“You awake, shortie?” Raphael was standing in the doorway with a towel around his shoulders. A soft expression on his face that he reserved for just the two of you. 

You didn’t want to wake up the rest of his brothers so you nodded silently at him. He extended his arm out above you for you to grab onto, and he slowly pulled you up out from underneath Mikey without disturbing him, careful not to bonk anyone with your cast. You were left dangling above your bed while you clung onto Raph’s arm like you weighed nothing. Raph chuckled quietly and swung you over to a vacant spot on the floor where you stretched out and touched down gently onto the fluffy rug. 

Raphael nodded in the direction of the door, a silent invitation to join him for his morning workout. You quietly grabbed some clothes from your drawers and trudged out to change in the bathroom as he went ahead of you to the gym. When you joined him a few minutes later, he was doing stretches. 

“How’s the arm?” He asked you in a hushed tone. Not wanting to sound too loud in the quiet of the empty gym. 

“Better!” You said gratefully stretching out your shoulders with your arms above your head. “Donnie said I should be able to get the casts off by the end of the week.”

”Wow, that was fast. I guess you heal like us now, huh.” Raph said with a grin, hiding his relief. “Wanna work on your physical therapy first?” 

“Mh!” You nodded enthusiastically. 

These quiet mornings working out with Raph had become the norm in the past 2 weeks since you had woken up. At first it started as an escape from the insomnia, when you woke up early and couldn’t sleep. Bad dreams and flashbacks from the tank plaguing your mind. Raph would come in and scoop you up and take you with him while he worked out. Not allowing you to be alone with your thoughts. You would lay on his back while he did pushups, and sit in his lap while he did reps. ‘For motivation’ he would say.

After a long hour and a half, and a playful but careful wrestling match that turned into a tickle fight, you collapsed limp onto Raph’s chest out of breath. 

“You’re getting harder to pin down, shortie.” Raph’s chest rumbled with his chuckle.

”Is that so? I think you’re still going too easy on me.” You said with sly eyes and propped your head up on your arm cast to look down at his face.

”So what if I’m going easy on ya? You can try and kick my ass once you’re all healed up, Princess.” He met your sly grin, hands coming up to grab your sides.

You giggled and squirmed in his hold, still feeling sensitive as he moved to sit up with you sat in his lap. You reached up and looped your arms around his neck and hugged him, body flesh against his chest. The big turtle froze a moment then relaxed and wrapped his big arms around you gently. He took in a long deep breath and exhaled in a long huff against your shoulder.

After a long pause, you quipped, “At least I can still throw you on your back whenever I want~”

Raph grinned and started to lightly tickle your sides again, making you squeal and giggle as you tried to escape his hold. “Just because you’ve got mutant strength all the time now doesn’t mean you’ll always have the drop on me!” He whisper yelled as he continued to torture you.

Donnie cleared his throat from the doorway where he was casually leaning against the frame, sipping a fresh cup of coffee. 

“He’s ticklish under his arms.” Donnie said loud enough for you to hear, grinning into his mug.

Raph’s eyes went wide with horror. ”Traitor!” 

Your hands dove for his exposed skin, but before you could reach, Raph grabbed your sides and held you away at arm’s length like a cat. “No fair!” You laughed, calming down from the excitement.

Donnie set down his coffee cup and strolled into the room. He scooped you up and tossed you over his shoulder, rescuing Raph from your attack. The red turtle made an exaggerated sigh of relief, but he was betrayed by his playful grin.

“My turn.” 

Donnie strolled out of the room with you in tow as you waved a goodbye to Raph, and retrieved his cup of coffee as he left.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

They had waited for weeks.

They were not able to prevent you from falling into a medically induced coma, but with the blood transfusion you received from Leonardo, your blood pressure had returned to safe levels. With the new medications Donnie was feeding you through your IV, it was expected you would wake up in only a few days. But there were…. complications.

It began as a small rash at the spot of the IV, rough dry skin turning into green scales. After 3 days, small hints of animalistic qualities started to morph your body in strange ways. Your fever only got worse with the changes. But along with the destabilized mutations, your body began to heal the overwhelming damage at amazing speeds. Your blackened bruises changed to green, then yellow, and slowly started to fade, your broken bones were set and mending, and your pallid complexion slowly started to improve. 

Donatello was closely monitoring your body as you healed, but he was also amazed at documenting the changes. Your mutation fluctuated and changed the structure of your muscles, improved bone strength, and appeared to enhance your senses. Changes that before were fleeting and temporary. Any fleeting changes to appearance came and went in waves as your body fought over whether you were more human or mutant.

Leonardo sat by your bedside just as he had during the blood transfusion. But you remained motionless in a deep sleep. By now your body was almost completely healed. So why hadn’t you woken up?

Leo held your hand and stroked your wrist with his thumb. Your hand was so small in his. 

Mikey was sitting at the foot of your bed playing on his Switch, picking weeds in your Animal Crossing save file so when you woke up it wouldn’t be a mess. 

April had been helping to make sure the boys and Master Splinter were all still eating well without you to cook meals for them. She had been by the lair earlier that day to deliver boxes of chinese stir fry and Mikey’s favorite orange chicken. 

Some rustling could be heard from the kitchen as empty paper take out boxes were thrown in the trash, and Raph soon entered the room. 

“How are they doin’?” Raph had worked the past week with Casey as a team to covertly uncover the Foot agent in the NYPD, and discovered some other officers selling their information to the gang under the table. Casey was given a promotion by the commissioner, and the rest of the uncorrupt police department came together to buy Raphael his own motorcycle as a thank-you present.

“Fever hasn’t gone down. No changes yet. Their vitals are still stable and the scales appear to be discoloring.” Donatello updated from his chair he had practically lived in since they returned with you.

Mikey had spent days with his eyes glued to the spot on your arm. As the green started to fade to match your skin tone and flake off he seemed to become more relaxed.

“Do you think they’re going to end up like us?” Mikey said solemnly.

Leo half smiled at his little brother. “It’s possible… and if they do, we’ll be here for them.”

Mikey hummed in response. 

“Shouldn’t we be like, talking to them to pull them out of the coma?”

“This isn’t one of those cheesy hospital soap operas you watch with Master Splinter, Mikey.” Raph gruffed. He took up his usual seat by the door, picking up his whittling knife and resumed his project of shaping the wood block into a dainty flower. 

“Well, technically research shows that speaking with a coma patient can stimulate brain activity and draw them into consciousness. So it’s worth a shot.” Donnie shrugged and returned his attention to his computer station. He had rigged up 3 open laptops that he used to monitor your vitals next to police radio chatter and the updates on Stockman and Bebop and Rocksteady’s whereabouts. 

After all, they still had a score to settle.

“Hey (y/n)…” Leo started. “We’d really like it if you’d wake up now… It’s too quiet around here without you.”

“Yeah! It’s not the same without you.” Mikey folded his arms on your bed and rested his chin. “You still haven’t taught me how to make your lasagna! And I need your help to beat my game!”

“You need to wake up so you can eat something! It’s not good for your body to be stagnant this long. Usually you’re the one bugging me about my health… And… I miss the way you make coffee. It just tastes better when you make it.”

Raph paused in his whittling and looked at you for a long moment, seemingly looking for any sign of movement. His brothers were all looking at him expectantly. He looked away and blushed.

“...You know you don’t gotta do nothin’… to have our attention, I mean. We just want you back safe and sound. Wake up soon shortstack, don’t keep us waitin’.”

An alert sounded on Donnie’s computer, drawing the boys’ attention. 

Donatello fumbled around to grab his keyboard and started typing into the console to pull up the news Casey was forwarding them.

“It’s Stockman. It looks like he’s made more mutants.”

“More mutants?! I thought he used up all of (y/n’s) mutagen on himself!” Leo exclaimed. He walked over to stand behind Donatello and peer over his shoulder.

“There’s a possibility that the puddle left behind in the lab was just enough to use on some small animals, but not enough for a human. The police report reads that 4 frog-like mutants have appeared trying to rob a bank. Luckily the police didn’t mistake them for us.” Donnie rubbed a hand down his face and straightened up.

“Yooooo, frog mutants? You think they might be friendly?” Mikey suddenly looked excited.

“What are we gonna do about (y/n)? We can’t just leave them behind. They’re still sick.” Raph folded his arms looking worried.

“Leave (y/n) in mine and April’s care. She is due to arrive soon, is she not?” Master Splinter entered the room. He stroked his beard thoughtfully. “We can care for them in your place until you boys return.” 

Donatello looked nervous as he fussed with his hands. He looked between Splinter and your resting form, and the location flashing on his computer. 

“Will you be able to monitor their temperature okay? I can stay behind if-“

Leo placed a hand on Donnie’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, dad’s got this. If anything happens he can give us a call.” Leo reasoned with him.

Donnie still looked unsure but he nodded anyway.

Mikey whooped in excitement and headed for the lair’s exit, followed by Leo.

Raph approached Donnie, his gaze trailing back to the med bay door. “....Any sign of Bebop and Rocksteady?” He asked in a low voice.

Donnie shared the dark look in Raph’s eyes and double checked the report on his wrist.

“Not yet. But with Stockman involved, they shouldn’t be far behind.”

“They better be.”

Donnie grabbed his staff and him and Raphel jogged to catch up to Leo and Mikey. Master Splinter watched the retreating form of his sons from the door, his eyes traveled over to the blinking red light on the screen as the police chatter continued over the radio. The words “armed” and “dangerous” followed the descriptions of the kung-fu wielding amphibians, making the old rat sigh.

He prayed for their safety, and that you would be well and waiting for them upon their return.

Attila the Frog, Genghis Frog, Napoleon Bonafrog, and Rasputin the Mad Frog turned out to be a group of mild-mannered mutants. They were well meaning and naively followed Stockman’s orders thinking that the turtles were the bad guys. With Mikey’s help, they quickly discovered that the amphibians had no intention of helping Stockman take over New York. With some persuasion, Casey agreed to help arrange for the frog mutants to leave New York, and move down to the Florida Everglades away from the city. 

But their fight was not yet over. 

The Punk Frogs, as they called themselves, had offered their assistance in taking down Bebop and Rocksteady. They knew of the location where Stockman and the two henchmen were hiding, and led them to an abandoned sewage plant at the edge of the city. 

There, with the help of the frog mutants, they were able to defeat the mutated Stockman. And no doubt, Bebop and Rocksteady appeared. With the help of the amphibious mutants, the 8 of them managed to subdue the tough duo. The four brothers tried to take it a step farther and beat the living shell out of Stockman and the two, but the peace-loving Punk frogs stepped in and convinced them to rethink their actions and let go of their pent up rage.

That didn’t mean they had to like it.

With Stockman, Bebop, and Rocksteady safely behind bars, they returned home feeling dejected. No matter what they did to Stockman, Bebop, and Rocksteady, it wasn’t going to make you wake up.

The four trudged in through the entrance of the lair, and were met by April running up to them from the med bay. 

“It’s (y/n)-!” There was no time to explain as the boys immediately rushed past her and burst through the doors. They were met with the sight of Splinter by your side, holding your hand with a relieved smile on his face as he chatted with you, sitting up in bed.

The turtles held their breath as your vibrant eyes turned to them, and your face lit up with a smile and welcomed them home. Mikey broke down blubbering in tears and the boys all rushed to you. Embracing you in a crowded desperate hug proclaiming how much they missed you. Even Raph shed a few tears of relief.

Since then, they boys only left you alone to bathe and use the toilet without their constant supervision. Strangely enough it became a routine around the lair, the brothers taking turns spending time with you. You could almost call it suffocating, if you didn’t love spending time with them as much as you did. You knew they needed your attention after the scare you gave them being unconscious for so long.

This was just their way of showing you how much they missed you.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Donnie had abducted you to give you a detailed health check up, as usual, making sure everything was healing right and to test your now permanent mutant reflexes. 

“How would you say you’re adjusting to the change in strength and reaction time?”

”Good! I haven’t broken anything since Tuesday!” You said proudly.

”…That was only 2 days ago.”

“So…. I haven’t broken anything in two whole days!”

Donnie pinched the bridge of his snoot under his glasses and sighed. Ever the optimist.

Later you joined him at his computer station while he ran simulations on a new program. You parallel played on a free computer until you got bored with what you were doing, and wormed your way into his lap.

You nuzzled your nose under Donnie’s chin. He chuckled at the ticklish sensation before looking down at you and giving you a quick kiss on the head. 

“You are not helping my productivity.”

“No, but you could say this is a different kind of productive.”

“And what kind is that?”

“Taking a break.” You smiled at him.

He sighed. 

“Okay, you win.” He clicked away from his programming project and changed the window to a website you were streaming Cowboy Bebop from. Donnie hit play on your current episode and snaked his arms around your waist before relaxing back in his chair.

You were beaming, delighted you had won in convincing the overworked turtle to take a break, and relaxed against his chest.

He switched from drinking coffee to water (which he only did on your regulated ‘breaks’), and turned the brightness down on his screen to give his eyes a break.

After 2 episodes, Leo passed by. He paused behind Donnie’s chair for a moment before exiting to the kitchen. A few minutes later he passed by again and loitered around by the computers, pretending to look busy checking the local news reports running on one of the screens. 

Donnie groaned and you chuckled. 

“I think it’s Leo’s turn to borrow you.” Donnie bemused before releasing you to stand up from your spot on his lap. 

Leo perked up and smiled at you, looking a bit bashful at being caught and muttered a quick apology to Donnie for stealing you away. Then he scooped you up and carried you in the direction of the dojo.

“How is your physical therapy going?” He asked casually. 

“Good! My shoulder is all better, and I can do sit-ups without any pain now. Though once I get these casts off I can really test my new strength.” You said kicking your leg out emphasizing the cast. 

Leo chuckled. He set you down in the dojo where he had prepared a pot of tea for the two of you to share, steam still wafting off the lid.

You sat down on the pillow across the table from him, and began your afternoon chat. He talked about his recent training, what they saw on patrol the night before. And you talked about your life from before. Before you were kidnapped. Before you worked for Stockman. About your life in Japan, where you had been, where else you had traveled to. Leo hung on your every word as you described the different cultures and vibrant cities beyond the glow of New York City. He loved listening to you talk.

“You’ve been to Brazil before, right? What was it like?” You were beaming.

Leo blushed as he straightened up, realizing he was leaning across the table as he listened to you. He fake coughed into his fist to clear his head and center himself again.

“Well, we didn’t exactly get to go sightseeing or anything- but we did get to hike through the Amazon rainforest! There were… a lot of bugs.” He said sheepishly, trying to think of a better way to describe it. 

“How big were the bugs? Did you see any snakes?!” Even though Leonardo couldn’t describe things as colorfully as you did, you still ate up everything he said with equal enthusiasm.

Leo’s expression softened. This is why he enjoyed chatting with you so much. His brothers often called him ‘boring’ but you had a way of making him feel unique and interesting. Your change in perspective always kept him guessing and brought new life to things that to him were old and tired.

“Well, actually Mikey thought he had tripped over a tree root, but it was actually an anaconda! He screamed so loud it drew the attention of a nearby research team and we had to hide in the trees when they came to investigate. They thought it was the shriek of some new species of monkey-“ 

You laughed along with Leo as he continued his story. Your chat lasted well over 2 hours, and eventually Master Splinter came by to remind him that he needed to complete his meditation before nightfall. Leo was a little bashful when he realized how late it was getting. 

“Would you like to join me in meditation for a while?” 

“Of course!” Leo lended you a hand and pulled you to your feet, then led you over to the tatami mats covering the dojo floor. He took up his usual spot cross legged on the mats, and before he could protest you sat right in his lap. 

Leo rested his chin on the crown of your head and mumbled, “Do you think you can concentrate like this?”

You adjusted to sit comfortably with your back straight so you weren’t leaning your weight against Leo’s plastron. “Yup!” You answered comfortably. You closed your eyes and rested your hands in your lap.

Leo chuckled and straightened his posture, rested his hands on his knees, and closed his eyes. Master Splinter passed by and smiled at the antics, shaking his head at the bold youth.

No more than 20 minutes had passed when the sound of Mikey’s rocket board starting up sounded across the lair. Everyone out in the common space ran for cover, and soon the hoots and hollers of the orange ninja echoed down the tunnels. 

Leo groaned as he tried to remain focused, while you cracked open a curious eye. 

“Woooo hoooo! Surf’s up dudes!” Mikey circled the living room a few times before Donnie got fed up ducking and bumped the bottom of his board with his bo staff as he passed. Mikey flailed his arms correcting his weight and ended up flying into the dojo.

“Incoming!” Mikey hollered as you and Leo easily ducked as his board passed by overhead, undisturbed. 

Mikey collided with the weapons rack and caused a loud clatter as the contents crashed to the floor. 

“Duuuude…” Mikey was left laying on his shell slightly teetering from side to side. He tilted his head back and looked over to you and Leo, and scrambled to his feet.

“(Y/n)! Did you see me? I totally landed that heel flip! Well- before I crashed. Do you wanna go play Street Fighter with me?” He rambled sliding onto the floor in front of you, posing dramatically on his side. 

“Mikey…” Leo started, his tone threatening as he continued to keep his eyes shut. You giggled.

“Okay! Okay! Buuut hear me out! I just unlocked this new character and-”

Leo sighed long and loud. That was your cue to take Mikey and get outta there. 

You got up and pecked Leo’s cheek, which immediately extinguished any frustration he was feeling and melted his face into a grin. 

“Thanks Leo! Come on Mikey, let's go play games.” You let the orange turtle excitedly tackle your midsection, carrying you over his shoulder and rushing you both out of the dojo leaving the mess behind.

“So Donnie unlocked this new character for me using some cheat codes and he has some sick combos I wanna show you!” He rambled as he flopped you down onto the big couch and started setting up his controllers.

He came back over around the coffee table and handed you your controller before sliding into the seat next to you. 

“No going easy on me, okay? I think I finally have the buttons down!” You warned as you prepared yourself to focus on the TV.

Mikey smiled brightly, and selected the new character. His inexperience with the character was his secret handicap. 

“You’re on!” He started the match and when the game announced ‘Fight!’, the sound of button mashing echoed throughout the high ceilings. 

You fought a few rounds. You hadn’t won any yet but you were starting to come close. Right before Mikey’s character could lock you in a hit combo you nudged him in his side, making him fumbled his buttons. He squawked in protest and leaned into you, trying to push away your controller as you giggled. Some more button mashing and a few well timed strikes later, you managed to defeat Mikey’s fighter.

“Noooooooo!” Mikey lamented as you cheered. He dramatically laid his weight on top of you, smushing you against the couch cushions as you squealed and tried to push him off of you with your good arm. Even with mutant strength it didn’t do you much good.

“Ey (y/n), what’s for dinner?�� Raph called over from the kitchen. He was drinking his post workout shake by the fridge, fresh out of the shower. 

Mikey and you both quickly sat up on the couch and looked at each other in excitement.

“Pasta and meatballs or raviolis?” You asked Mikey.

“MEATBALLS!!!!” Mikey jumped up onto the couch and cheered.

You laughed at his antics until he suddenly swooped in and grabbed you from underneath your arms and lifted you up, making you squeak in surprise. 

“To the kitchen!” He announced to the lair, posing dramatically with you tucked under his arm. 

Mikey leapt from the back of the couch, and jogged to the kitchen. He then set you down next to the fridge and opened it.

“Let’s see. We got ground beef, carrots, tomato sauce, ….what else do we need?” Mikey said as he pulled out the ingredients from the fridge.

“Bread crumbs, parmesan, and I’ll add some zucchini for some extra vegetables.” You listed off, pulling out the seasonings you would need from the spice cabinet. When you tried to reach the mixing bowl on a high shelf, Mikey’s plastron pressed against your back as he reached up behind you to grab it. 

“Thanks Mikey!” You grinned as he handed it to you.

“No problem babe!”

Mikey gave you a mischievous grin over your shoulder and snuck his hands around your waist. You got a bad feeling and set down what you were holding before Mikey suddenly hoisted you up.

“MIKEY!!!” You hollered as you were spun around the kitchen. 

Donnie took notice from where he was relaxing in his computer chair and flipped open his phone to connect his music to the bluetooth speaker. The song “When It Feels Right” by Chase White started playing on the speaker as Mikey obnoxiously mouthed the words. You squealed and started to giggle at the antics. He twirled you around and led you to dance into the lounge. The rest of the boys started to emerge from their corners of the lair, drawn out by the music. 

Leo stepped up to politely tap Mikey on the shoulder, and the orange turtle let his older brother cut in. Leonardo let you stand on his feet as he led you confidently in a little waltz around the room. 

Next, Donnie swooped in and stole you away. Since he was so tall he held up your legs for you to sit on his forearm while you looked down at him. Donatello held your hand in his as he spun with you romantically in a dizzying dance. 

Raph came in last to snatch you away, grabbing your waist to pull you away from Donnie. He didn’t care so much for dancing, so he let you lead. You held his hands, and giggled as you rocked and stepped side to side. He smiled, and when he felt confident, Raphael lifted your hand and gave you a little spin.

When the song finally came to an end, the dream-like state didn’t cease. The music was turned down a little quieter, and all the boys came to sit around the kitchen table as you and Mikey worked together to prepare dinner. The lively conversation floating in the air drew out Master Splinter who joined his sons at the table. You held out the wooden spoon to give Mikey a taste of the sauce, who gave his approval. And dinner was served. 

Spaghetti and meatballs. 

And a new happy family.

The End :]  

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