#but turns out it made a pretty nice anatomy exercise

[loubatas-art]

Remember that dress meme from a few weeks back? Yeah I did it with my boys =D

(The girls are coming later, don't worry)

[eldritch-spouse]

Going to be thirsty here for a moment-. But rereading Breg's fics made me wonder how he would be if Roomie started training herself to be able to take both of his dicks in one hole. Just to let him inside and hammer away. Like, please, sir, break me. 🤲🥺

[Love when people come here like "I hope I'm not being too thirsty". Fem reader. Ignoring anatomy for this because hhhnn-]

TW: Double penetration; Slight dubcon moment.

" Listen to me Breg. "

You start, and even if you're currently beneath the breeder on the bed, you still sound like a drill sergeant. Mostly because you have to, Breg's not to be trusted when he's excited.

" I've been working up to this for a long while- "

" I know! " He interrupts, the bottom of his face still covered in drool and slick when he dove between your legs after you were done with the stretching exercises.

Breg hates that you had to use toys to size yourself up for this, but the promise that you were doing it so you could welcome both of his members made him slightly more tolerant of it. Didn't change the fact that the breeder would often sit and watch, whining in jealousy of whatever you were stuffing yourself with.

" I'll be really careful! I'll be nice- I promise angel! "

His babbling is a waste of slaver, the monster isn't even looking at you, eyeless gaze perched entirely on the sight of your inviting pussy and the way both of his cocks frame it. The breeder looks like he's thrilling himself with the show, making a horny little noise of appreciation and biting at his lower lip. It's as if he's already envisioning himself deep inside you, not having to squeeze one of his cocks between you two. It's been a fantasy of his for a long time, even you have to admit that it's... Exciting to think about.

Now though, you need Breg to focus, so you grab the sides of his head and bring it closer to yours. " I mean it, listen to me. "

His happiness is infectious, you have to turn away to hide the smile tugging at your lips when Breg simply dips to place kisses all over your face, hearing that long tail sway and swat around.

" Breg! " Mercifully, he stops. " You have to pay attention to what you're doing when you start okay? If we do this wrong, it could hurt me a lot. "

" Yes. " He rushes. " Yes, okay. "

"Good. " With a pant, you spread your legs just a tad further, figuring you couldn't possibly be in a more comfortable positions for this, especially with the support pillows helping to angle you. " Now straighten up a bit, I need to see what I'm doing. "

When the breeder does, you note the way his breathing is already sped up, how feverish he's already become. It's impressive how Breg always manages to make you feel so hot, even when you think you look like a fresh mess. Gently, you reach down to grab both of his dicks, keeping them together as much as you can, and he helps the process by scooting forward to line up against your pussy.

Feeling both tips park there is enough to get you to blow a tense exhale, knowing it's going to be a stretch and a half. In sharp contrast, Breg moans like he's in heat, looking as if his self-control is hanging by a very thin thread currently peeling itself apart.

Some hesitant seconds pass.

" Please angel- Please! I want this so bad. It's going to feel so good, let me fuck you, please! " White claws rub at your thighs comfortingly while he pleads, tail thumping impatiently on the mattress behind him. And curse him, because the breeder's shameless imploring always rises a fire in you that's hard to put out.

" I- I want you to push slowly, okay? " You caution, hold still firm on him, your spare arm clutching the sheets.

" Uhuh! "

True to his word, Breg is careful, torturously edging his cocks forward. The lube helps immeasurably, and pretty soon, both heads pop inside, making you hiss and gasp, immediately clenching at the intrusion. Massive. Fucking massive, holy shit. A wave of warmth courses through you as a pleasant shiver moments later.

" Hhn- Ohh... " He's drooling. Like actually drooling on you. " Hahh. " You can tell by the visible flexing of his legs that the only thing Breg wants to do is buck and hammer the rest of himself in, but with an almost pained grunt, he just sits there statically so the two of you can catch your breaths.

" Good- Very good. " You praise his surprising discipline. " Just keep going like that. "

He makes what you think was an affirmative "Mmn" noise and lolls his tongue out when the next couple of inches are softly rolled into you. It's insanely filling on its own, your thighs squirm and you're not sure if you want to edge away from this or even closer. Breg's instincts kick in and he holds your hips down sternly, slowly sinking more of himself in and making deep, pleased moans that wash against you like waves.

" Ngh- Deep- Slow down, give me a second. " It's stealing the breath out of you.

It takes a couple of moments before Breg's brain registers the command, but he eventually pauses with half of his cocks buried in you. He physically has to tear his gaze off the sight of you stretched around him, chest heaving as he curves to blanket you.

" You're so tight, fffuck you always are but this- " He sighs shakily over your ear, and instead of calming down enough to relax, you only tense and squeeze around him harder, making the breeder growl and whine. " Mmnph-! If you keep doing that I won't hold it, angel. Please, can I put the rest in, please? "

One of these days his begging is going to burst a blood vessel of yours. Or maybe it's the way you feel so bloated already.

" O- Okay, but then you need to let me catch up, okay? "

" Mmmf- " You think he growled there for a second. " Yes! Thank you! "

You expected him to push in slowly the same way he did up until now, though you should frankly know better by now... Breg pulls away in a preparatory motion that should have given it all away, then slams home with a force you have no words to describe.

Your stomach bounces and your lungs knock into your throat, eyeballs jostled in their sockets from the strength of his wild horse piston into your cunt. The disgraceful wet noise that echoed in your bedroom doesn't help in keeping yourself grounded. Although you didn't have enough air in your body to do much more than choke and convulse at the intrusion, the breeder makes more than enough noise for the two of you, howling in delight at the way your poor walls all but crush him in an attempt to adapt to the brute size just forced into them. You can feel him perfectly hilted into you, cockheads kissing as deep into you as they possibly can. It's an indescribable fullness that has the two of you stunted.

" Oh gods fffuck- Hahhn I'm all in. " He mumbles amidst desperate noises. " Mmn feels so good so good- I knew it'd be perfect- Love you angel. "

Both lengths throb inside you. You couldn't respond even if you wanted to.

Although you can very well sense Breg trying to rock against you minutely, he keeps his promise, studying your overwhelmed features and giving you time to welcome him properly. There's some pain, you won't lie, but it's slowly ebbing into something forgettable. The pale monster's sweet cooing and trilling help steady you as he licks your throat and lets his teeth deform slightly to place a loving bite on your shoulder.

Eventually, the breeder shifts and looks down at where the two of you are joined, finding imprints of his lengths in you. His grin is so wide and self-satisfied it looks borderline manic. A large hand comes to palp at the bump in your lower abdomen, but the sensation causes your legs to twitch and you bat his arm away.

Breg whines, a trail of drool slipping down his chin to drip onto your skin. " Can- Can I start? "

Your eyes widen a little, though you nod and take a deep breath. " G-Gentle. "

And that's all it takes.

The monster admittedly has a bit of trouble moving at first, the drag of his cocks inside you bordering on painful until fireworks start firing in your brain from all the spots he has no choice but to stimulate with every minuscule motion. The first moan you let out, throaty and helpless, makes him shiver. Wetness gradually builds, helping along with what's left of the lube, and pretty soon Breg's huffing with every thrust, making noises that almost concern you and visibly sweating. You know he's doing his best to behave right now, and you appreciate it, because both at once is... An experience.

" Ah- Ghn so full- " You choke when he fills you out again, causing the breeder to wag his tail slightly and respond with shorter, faster bursts of movement.

" Does it feel good? " He pants.

" Y- Yeah. " Putting it lightly. Your breath hitches and you cling to his arms for support, unable to help the fluttering of your pussy as you get used to this brand new size.

" Angel... " He begins, in a tone you already know means he's going to ask for something. " Hhn- I know you said gentle but... "

He bucks his hips suddenly, the two of you crying out together, pleasure and shock.

" Breg! "

" B- But I know you like it rough! " He stresses. " You clamp around me so hard, it's so hot- " Your face burns. " Come on... Just this time? "

It's not going to be "just this time", obviously.

When you don't say anything, the breeder hums and drapes over you again, legs readjusting so he can plunge somehow even deeper into you now. And with no hesitation, Breg starts well and truly railing into you.

" AH! HN- Breg?! "

You have to hold onto his neck and back, each desperate slam of his thighs on yours digging his softly barbed cocks so far up into your hole he jostles you forward. But you can't deny that it's making your eyes glaze in rabid animal pleasure, mouth opening and hips grinding back onto him as much as they can, the sloppy noise of his every slam filling you with a gross sense of glee.

You don't like to admit it, but you love being under Breg. It makes you feel small in a very arousing way, trapped under his strength, his smell, hearing how fast he breathes for you, how much his body strains to breed you stupid even if the effort is always pointless in the end. You like that he's always just as enthusiastic, that he always fucks you like it's the last time he's going to get to do it.

" S- See? " He groans, looking down at your flushed, probably disheveled face. " I know you like it- I can smell it. " And just to accentuate the point, there's a snort-like sniff when he dips his head into the crook of your neck, rising goosebumps everywhere. " Gghn- I'm- I'm not going to last too long... "

That startles you a little. Breg's always had surprising stamina. Sure, the first time he penetrated you was a bit short, but he had never been with a human before. Still, this puts an incredulous smile on your face. " R- Really? "

" Yeah- " His words melt into slurred moans, previously speedy motions now interspersed by hard grinds that have your eyes rolling slightly. " 'M sorry, you're so good- Sorry. "

" It's- It's fine. " It's hotter than it should be.

" My mate is so perfect- " He growls in-between sharp, jutting thrusts. " So nice to me- " The whimper on the edge of his voice is more than a good tell of how close he is. " I'm so lucky I get to ahhn- Put both in! "

Even if he doesn't recognize it, Breg has a penchant for this very specific type of dirty talk that makes your brain pop and crackle in a hormone-fueled static, and before you can even beg him to fill you with cum, he fucks into your stretched cunt with three dizzying pistons before flexing and coming so hard you can feel it shoot into crevices you didn't even know you had.

It's too much for such a small space, coating both you and him before it has no choice but to squeeze out of you in depraved spurts. Even if you wanted to hear Breg's rattle of ecstasy, you were too lost in your own orgasm to do so, making something akin to a desperate, sobbing mewl at the overload of sensations.

When you can focus minimally, the breeder is planting amorous kisses everywhere on your upper body, still buried hot and wet inside you. His whole face is flushed blue and he's never looked giddier, shuddering as another glob of seed escapes around his still hard cocks.

" Thank you so much, angel. I loved it! "

Oh, you can tell. " ... Don't mention it. "

Breg chirps. " Tell me when you're ready to go again. "

Why are you even surprised...

[lavenderbexlatte]

day 9: suspension

itzy 1.2k words gender neutral reader insert Reader x Lee Chaeryeong NSFW

🖤 warnings: dirty talk, use of a suspension rig, reader's anatomy isn't specified~ 🖤

kinktober masterlist

connect with me! / masterlist

You knew she'd look good like this.

You knew, because you've seen her like this before.

Flying yoga is a ridiculous thing. For beginners, it's just hanging from the ceiling in a giant curtain. And even for experienced students, it's like a weird combination of exercise and circus performance.

You liked the few classes you took on a friend's free pass, though. It was interesting, and it definitely made your abdominals burn for the rest of the week.

And of course, you met Chaeryeong there.

Beautiful, interesting Chaeryeong. She's a dancer, so she had gotten the hang of flying yoga right away, putting the rest of you to shame and getting nonstop praise from the instructor. It was kind of captivating, honestly.

Her toned body just did whatever she wanted it to do, easy as pie, while the rest of you struggled and bent and coaxed yourself into the poses.

In the middle of a particularly strange move set, you'd gotten embarrassingly lost. You couldn't figure out why your legs were getting caught. You'd called for the instructor to give you a hand, but before she could make her way over, Chaeryeong was there.

"Just make sure you ankle goes..." She gently turned your leg to the side, first the thigh, then the foot. "There!"

Easy as that, your leg fell free, right into the position you'd been trying to reach by yourself.

You'd straightened up to get another look at the pretty girl who'd just had her hands on you. "Thanks."

She looked back at you, and then, to your delighted surprise, a little bit of a flush bloomed on her cute full cheeks.

The rest is history.

Now, you've upgraded your room in a really stupid way, just for this moment.

You've been thinking about this since you met her. Since that first day, in her little athletic set, brightly-colored sports bra and leggings that showed off her abs, her incredible lithe figure.

One of your friends helped you find the studs in your bedroom ceiling, the spots of solid wood where you could safely install hardware without hurting the room, or yourself. And into one of them, you'd screwed the top support of a suspension rig.

She just looked so pretty in the hanging scarves at the yoga studio. You had to see it again, in a little bit of a different context.

Your imagination ran. Sue you.

"Anything hurt?" you ask.

Chaeryeong shakes her head, feathery strands of her dark chestnut hair falling into her face. "No."

You brush her hair back again fondly.

She's standing on a box you'd brought in from the other room. Not the sexiest piece of equipment, but you don't want any risks of her getting stuck.

This isn't the beginning of the night, not by a long shot. For one thing, both of you are already naked, already several steps into the game. You'd had a nice meal earlier, had a nice long talk about the scene you'd intended to have, and now you're here.

Now, Chaeryeong's wrists are strung above her head, but not pulled tightly. The ropes are new. The cuffs, you'd already had. Which is helpful, since you can vouch for their comfort and strength. If you tighten the rope, and remove the box, she'll be hanging just about right, toes barely on the ground.

"You gotta tell me if it hurts," you say.

She smiles. "Isn't it supposed to?"

It's a good thing that she's just as bad as you are.

"Chae."

"I know my safeword," she says, rolling her eyes, good-natured.

"We're not doing shit if you're not taking it seriously," you say.

She pouts. "Oh, I'm taking it very seriously."

She's such a pain.

But you kick the box out from under her feet.

Once the surprise passes - she shrieks a little, which is cute - and the realization sets in, Chaeryeong's expression changes. Something softer. You never know quite how to explain it back to her, when she asks, but when she's really feelin' it, her whole demeanor changes. Coy. Sticky-soft.

The rope is taut now, the cuffs keeping Chaeryeong suspended by her wrists. You measured well; her feet aren't quite touching the ground, close enough that you can easily help her but not so much that she can stand by herself.

"Oh," she breathes.

She looks at you with those heavy saccharine eyes.

You thank your lucky stars that you'd chosen to do this not in the middle of the night, but in the evening.

Golden sunlight still comes in your windows, buttery and half-dampened since twilight is coming fast. It's enough to illuminate her where she hangs, playing off the warm color of her hair. Bending around her bare curves, highlighting the dip of her ribs, the gentle curve of her spine into her ass.

She's so pretty.

Hanging there, unable to move, and all yours.

You don't want the tension on her wrists to be too much, too fast, so you indulge right away.

Gathering her in your arms, you have her wind her slim legs around your waist. She's sitting higher, like that, and the ropes have some give, so that they're not tugging on her quite so much. It has the added perk of being able to feel the heat of her against your lower belly.

So, she's enjoying this, too.

"Still doesn't hurt?" you ask.

Her hair is warm under your palm as you smooth it back again.

"No," she says.

"What should I do with you?"

She flexes her arm experimentally, making the chain connector on the cuff rattle above both of your heads. "I dunno."

You grin. "You can't think of a single thing you'd want me to do?"

"Well, I-"

"Because if you can't, I have a few ideas."

Chaeryeong laughs softly. "Oh yeah?"

"Wouldn't you like me to fuck you like this?" you ask.

You hitch her a little higher in your arms, letting her lean back so that the cuffs tug at her wrists again, keeping her suspended between you and the rig.

"It would be fun," you coax.

"Yeah," she says.

Her voice is small, but you trust that she's just thinking, not that she's not into it.

"So pretty like this," you say. "Just like a little doll for me. Hanging up like a sculpture."

She whines, high in her throat. If she had full use of her hands, she'd probably be hiding her face by now.

But she can't. She's just looking at you, flustered, wide-eyed.

"Is that something you'd like?" you ask.

She nods.

"Imagine how that'd feel," you tease. "Just hanging here. Taking it. Being good for me."

You're not sure where all of this is coming from, but it's making Chaeryeong blush and squirm against you, so you're content to keep it going.

"Please," she says.

"Please, what?"

"I wanna...can you...?"

You need to get ready, if you're going to give her what she wants, so you carefully release her legs, letting her drop back to hang completely on the rig.

Frustrated, she tips her head back, sending her hair cascading down her back. Her posture, from here, in the darkening room...waves of hair, the long lines of her body...

Like a figurine. Like a marble Venus.

Oh, you're not sure if you're going to survive this.

[cannibalcreepers]

Can I request a Hilliker Brothers x Reader lemon.

Ah some fun Hilliker Brother lovin~ 😏

4275 Word count, 18+ only please 

PSA. I will be using ‘female’ anatomy for parts for Reader, but that doesn’t make Reader cisfemale

-----

When being integrated into the Hilliker brothers family, you learned pretty fast that there was no way you could be with only one of the boys, this was a sharing family and oh did they share everything. 

They shared food, kills, clothing, weapons and now they shared you. 

Saw-Tooth x Reader: 

Large, aggressive and demanding, three words that perfectly describe what Saw-Tooth is in both everyday life, killing and fucking, because that’s all he does. 

There is no love-making with Saw-Tooth only fucking, sure you get to cling onto him for dear life and maybe press a kiss here and there on his chest and neck, but with how he holds you down and thrusts so roughly into your core you’re better of just using your mouth for screaming out in a string of pleasures. 

Sex was anywhere and anytime with Saw-Tooth may it be on the bed, on the floor, in the forest against a tree, if he got his grubby hands on you then that was it for whatever activity you were doing prior, cause this cannibals dick was much more important than cleaning clothes or gutting victims. 

It wasn’t hard to tell when Saw-Tooth was in the ‘mood’, unless he just grabbed you by surprise, but most the time the oldest Hilliker would lumber in behind you and place his hands on your hips to give them a squeeze to tell you he was in that ‘mood’ and that was exactly what was happening when you were cleaning one of the axes on the island tabletop.

His presence was so large you felt it before the man’s whole frame was leaning against your back, his hot heavy breathing tickling the hairs on the nape of your neck. If you didn’t respond quick enough, you could say goodbye to your feet on the ground, the first time he ever did this you had been thrown over his shoulder because you took longer than two seconds to accept his advances. 

But now you knew better, with a curved smile you placed the weapon down with the cloth and leaned into his stomach and chest, looking up at his scarred-up face and reaching to brush your fingers through his tangled messy goatee. “Hey handsome, looking for a good time?” Was all you needed to say before you got spun around and  his large arms were wrapped around your waist, lifting you off the ground to place you on the tabletop. 

Your legs were already being spread as whatever clothing you wore was being yanked off you fast, Saw-Tooth was impatient as it was and no pants or underwear was going to stop him from getting to that pussy. His fingers were the first to enter you, his thick digit would curl and push in deep through the heat and wetness, the big man had learned that sticking it in before he got you worked up was not as fun as watching you squirm and wiggle beneath him. 

As Saw-Tooth fingered you, he would use his free hand to pull his cock out from his pants and began stroking himself, tilting his head slightly as he watched his finger vanish deeper inside your body, causing you to let out small whimpers and sighs. He’d continue the fingering until you were wet and sleek enough for his liking, slipping his finger out so he could slide his cock in.

Despite the many times he has fucked you, you were always such a tight squeeze for Saw-Tooth, having the thickest cock in his family made sex with him a very rough experience and today was no exception. You dug your nails into his forearms until your fingers started to ache, the man pushing deeper inside you, not stopping until you took him all and his hairy sack pressed against your squishy ass cheeks. Once Saw-Tooth was pleased with being snug inside your wet heat he grabbed onto you leg and hip to begin pulling out and thrusting back in, his breathing loud and wheezy as he watched you arch your body up and open you pretty mouth to let out the most tasteful cry, it made his mouth drool at seeing you so open and vulnerable under his hands, how he could mold you into whatever he pleased and you simply allowed it all because you loved him. 

Your body was on fire, the mix of heat and pleasure made the seconds of every thrust and gasp feel like hours. You were never quiet about expressing how Saw-Tooth made you feel, allowing every gasp, moan and cry escape from your lips so the large cannibal could know he was doing an amazing job, though keeping your eyes open was difficult as you tried to concentrate on not falling apart from each jolt of the mans cock slipping back into your body. 

“F-Fuck! Saw-Tooth Baby! Yes, Fucking God!” Was what you usually could sputter out from your chokes and groans, the man’s responses were usually grunts and moans of his own to show he was enjoying what he was doing to you, but if you spoke to much, a few fingers in your mouth covered in your wetness was enough to silence your tongue. 

The tabletop counter was starting to crack and creak under the weight and movement of the two of you fucking, creating squeaky noises that mixed in with the sounds of your cries and his heavy breathing, as the pace picked up more with Saw-Tooth chasing his high that the table let out a sickening snap as wood splintered and left a large crack in the base of counter, luckily missing your ass and back, the axe you were cleaning with the cloth before now both completely forgotten as they had fallen on the ground ages ago. 

This didn’t stop the both of you from going at it, your body was starting to tighten and tremble as you were reaching your orgasm, reaching up to wrap your arms around Saw-Tooth’s neck to hold him close as your body spasmed and came around the mans length, juices dripping down onto the now broken tabletop. When your walls squeezed around him so deliciously, it was the final nudge he needed to cum inside, letting out a heated deep growl as he let himself spill inside every crevice of you, his seed mixing with your own slick. He would hold himself up above you as to not crush you under his weight, taking the time to take in deep breathes and calm his body, it was always an exercise when fucking you and it showed how exhausted you were flopping onto the table and letting out wheezes and groans as the high was slowing seeping away. 

You were spent, lazily reaching up to pat his chest as a way to say ‘good job’ which only received a grunt for a reply. The big man stood up and slipped out of you, which let all the juices to slowly ooze out and create a small gooey puddle between your legs, you had no energy to move other than resting your arm over your face and muttering sweet nothings.

Saw-Tooth on the other hand simply ran his palm from you cheek, over your neck, down you chest and stomach before giving your thigh one loud smack, giving you a jolt of surprise and shooting an annoyed stare at the man who only smirked back, zipping himself up and left you to deal with the mess. 

One-Eye x Reader:

If you needed a good cuddle or just a welcoming warm hug, One-Eye was your man and oh did he give the warmest of cuddles, also the wettest if he was drooling onto your cheek and neck from the amount of kisses he left on you. 

Whenever One-Eye wanted some sweet romantic loving, his usual tactic that you started picking up on was something you found to be extremely cute. Unlike the more forward advances like his two other brothers, this big sweet man would just watch you shyly from afar, slowly making his way over when he felt brave enough until he was standing beside you to reach out and caress your arm, hip or thigh ever so softly. 

So when you felt his fingers brush against your hip and heard how heavily he was breathing, you glanced up to his soft face with a sweet smile, reaching up to run your fingers across his scarred cheek. One-Eye leaned into your hand, closing his eye as he felt your palm against his skin, it was enough to make him step closer and tug at your clothes, an indication he wanted you and him to find a more private place. 

One-Eye enjoyed the privacy of your alone time, it was easier to not get bullied off of you by either Saw-Tooth or Three-Fingers, especially when he was balls deep inside you, if the both of you were somewhere that neither brothers could find you and him then it was going to be one perfect love making. 

And love making it was, when you both had found a nice little alcove in the forest, you had grabbed One-Eye by his button up and gently pulled him down a bit to be closer against you, placing a small kiss against the side of his lips. Your show of affection was rewarded by the cannibal wrapping his large arms around your waist and pressing you against his chest, letting out a string of snorty giggles which made it a bit difficult to keep your little make-out session drool free.

You could feel One-Eyes hands move up to the buttons of your shirt and began to fumble with each button, having difficulty with the lower ones until he began to just tug and pull at your clothing instead to try and get them off. As much as you found it cute to see his big sausage fingers try to handle your clothe so delicately, you had to stop him in case the big boy got upset and accidentally rip your nice shirt, so instead you would unbutton each one yourself and gave a little show by squishing your boobs together as you let the top fall down, giving the man some eye candy wiggle that got him even more excited than before, reaching out to smooth his hands over your exposed skin and cup each breast, giving them a naughty squeeze that caused the both of you to giggle. 

You would continue the stripping with the removal of your jeans, kicking them to the side with your top and now shoes, sock and underwear, leaving you bare and exposed for his eye to stare at all of you. 

“Alright, mister funny man, it’s your turn” You’d purr, reaching to unbutton his clothing, this being more faster than him doing it himself. Soon enough clothes would start to pile up and you were pressing your naked form up against his, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck as his arms slipped around your waist, pressing your lips against his with a hum as the both of you swayed together. “You’re such a sweet man” You whispered against his mouth, pressing for more kisses. 

One-Eye could only respond back in whines and hums of his own, along with running his fingers delicately down your back. It was always such a tender moment with you, allowing himself to just feel your skin and take in your presence, but all sweet times were cut short as he was starting to get on the ground and pull you down with him. 

It was go time now and you had to laugh at how silly the man was being hugging you close and turning the both of you around until you were laying atop of some of your clothing, not the most comfy on all the grass and rocks but with how much kisses and nips One-Eye was placing on your neck and collar you could easily forget the scrapes you will definitely be getting from laying on the forest floor. Usually it was you who would take lead on sexy time with the large cannibal, but for some reason he was not having it, pushing away your advances to touch his cock or have his hand on your boobs, instead he just wanted to suck and lick your skin, pressing kisses down between your breasts, moving down towards your stomach. 

Your face started to heat up when his head kept going down south even more feeling yourself become heated and wet at now knowing what this big boy had planned for you. Both his hands gripped onto your two thighs and began spreading your legs apart, licking the bottom of his lip as you let him expose your vagina out to the whole forest. 

It felt a little surprising, it was a rare occasion when any of the boys went down on you, you sometimes had blown them off but it was just as rare as them eating you out, they only knew the basic fucking positions and you were not sure when you should start teaching them newer stuff but for now that thought process was being thrown out the window when you felt the flat of his tongue drag across your folds and up to you clit, making a squeak leave from your lips and toes curl. You instinctively wanted to slam your legs together, but One-Eye’s grip kept you from moving an inch as he was going to town munching on your muffin. 

His methods were slobbering and wet, clearly not knowing what he was doing at all but when did he ever know what to do, either way it felt like heaven and he was licking all the right corners. You reached down to grip onto his bird nest of a hair and mewled at how his teeth grazed over the sensitive skin. You almost slammed your head back into the ground when he placed his mouth over the top of your clit and ran his tongue back and forth, his saliva oozing down your folds and dripping down onto the forest floor. 

Your body couldn’t hold out much longer from the brutal attack from his mouth and tongue, screaming out from the wave of pleasure that webbed through your core towards every part of your senses, legs snapping from One-Eyes grip and squishing his head, making him jolt a little in surprise as you orgasmed against his lips. Like the good boy he was, he continued lapping up the juices until he was satisfied with his work. 

Sitting up, he would snug himself neatly between your spread legs, you were a moaning mess at this point, arm over your eyes, breathing heavily as you tried to catch your breath. As you were letting your mind calm down you could feel him moving quite rapidly between your legs, grunting and groaning loudly which made you glance down to see what he was up to and surprised to see the silly man was jerking himself off against your pussy, his mouth gaped and drool dripping down and landing on your skin. You were about to sit up and help him out but One-Eye already let out his hoarse moan and came over your stomach, the cum dripping and rolling down your sides as you stared at his audacity to just masturbate on you. 

He slumped and groaned at feeling spent, running his hand up and down your stomach, smearing the cum over your body as though painting a picture “One-Eye! hunny, stoooop!” You protested with a laugh, wrapping your legs around his hips and giving him a shake, both your laughs echoing through the forest. 

Three-Fingers x Reader:

The youngest Hilliker, a wild little nutter of a man, who still towered over you despite his smaller frame, was a mix of intense roughness and gentle sweetness when it came to being with him. One minute you could be crawling into his arms for a hug, feeling his deformed large three fingers run through your hair, hearing his heartbeat against his thin chest while receiving sweet kisses on your forehead only to have the next second go past and your suddenly lifted of your feet and being thrown onto a pile of clothes and wrestling the man to prevent him from poking or tickling you, his giggles sharp and loud in your ears, drowning out your screams of protest against his need to torture you with fun and laughter.

When it came to loving though, it was just as random, whilst Saw-Tooth was rough and brutal and One-Eye was sweet and soft, Three-Fingers was both of best worlds and you never really knew what you were going to get at times but eventually you started picking up tell-tale signs. 

If he wanted to go buckwild rough on your pussy, the man would creep up on you like a predator stalking prey, he was quiet and you would rarely ever catch him before he wrapped his arms around your waist and carried you away to a spare room or the bed to get fucked stupid on. 

But for when he wanted gentle, soft loving, you didn’t have to search to find him.Most the time it happened after a long day of work, you two could be finishing up cleaning up the meat and he would reach over and run his knuckles along you hip and over to your ass cheek before giving it a good ole’ squeeze, a good indication he wanted to have some loving fun after getting the chore done.

The both of you were tired, you were desiring more a nap than an activity but seeing how he was eyeing you and kept moving closer to press his crotch against your ass and hips was a good indicator he wanted to get frisky soon. A small smile curled on your lips as you wiped up your hands and reached out to tug on one of the suspenders of his overalls “You finish up and I’ll wait in bed?” You whispered to him, the two other boys were out in the forest, perimeter checking so the two of you had lots of time to spend alone time together. He would grin at your suggestion and nod, now being a bit more quicker at packing up as you made your way to his specific bed in the corner of the room. 

Three-Fingers would sneak looks at you stripping down, peeling off your clothing and throwing them onto the dirty pile, he almost bumped into the corner of the kitchen counter when you slipped your underwear off and exposed your bare ass to him, giving it a bit of a shake was enough encouragement for him to move faster on getting the chore finished.

As you waited for Three-Fingers to finish up you slipped under the covers of his bed and wiggled into the old mattress, stretching out your body and getting comfortable rubbing your face into the pillow with a soft yawn thinking about how that skinny bean better get his ass into bed quick before you just fell asleep from getting comfy. You shut your eyes just to rest them for a bit while  listening to the soft clanging and shuffling of whatever the cannibal was doing, you had almost drifted off to sleep when you felt the mattress dip from a foriegn weight and soft lips pressing against your temple, the tell-tale giggle from Three-Fingers making you smile as you lifted up the sheets and let him crawl under to wrap you up in his arms. 

The man was butt ass naked just as you were when he pressed up against you, his fingers diligently smoothing themselves along your hips and sides as he was making himself comfortable above you and situated himself between your legs. You wrapped your arms around his neck, watching him look over you body, Three-Fingers was soaking the sight of you in, every part of you was perfection to him, even if you didn’t think so, every divot or scar he could just trace over with a finger, or tongue, forever. His gaze would eventually connected with yours, you stared back into those blue globes and saw more than just a crazed killer of a man, you saw someone who was loving and protective of his family, a hard worker and wonderful fun guy who took no shit from anyone. You tangled your fingers into his messy white hair and pressed your lips against his, your tongue brushing up against his crooked sharp teeth and wrapping with his own. 

One of Three-Fingers hands cupped one of your breasts, giving it a tender loving squeeze and running a thumb over the perked nipple, whilst his other, more deformed, hand ran down your stomach and between your legs, the thickest of the three fingers dipping between your folds and over your wet slit, causing a shiver to run through your body.  When the finger slipped itself inside you, your arched into Three-Fingers and gasped against his mouth, which amused the mutated cannibal who let out a string of giggles, running his tongue along his teeth as he watched you start to squirm and moan from how his finger slipped back and forth inside you. 

When his finger curled against your walls you leaned you head back and groaned, Three-Fingers taking the chance to run his tongue along your exposed throat and began sucking on the skin, leaving large hickeys, which you knew he was going to point out later in the day just to fluster you. “Oh god, don’t stop please!” you moaned out, tugging hard on the man’s wiry white hair, enough to make his eyes roll back and a groan escape from his lips. The pleasure was starting to build up in your stomach, your heavy panting being an indicator to Three-Fingers that you were close, your groans getting louder as you felt the orgasm build up. 

Only to be ripped away when the scrawny cannibal slipped his finger out from your pussy, which made you snap your head to look at his smug ratty face and whine “W-What are you doing!?” That only made Three-Fingers cackled as he placed his wet, deformed finger into his mouth and licked up your taste, letting out groans and sighs to let you know he enjoyed your taste, your face going red from the fact he was denying you your orgasm. You gave him a large pout, you almost wanted to just push him off and go find one of the other boys to finish you off. But as though he was reading your mind, the man leaned back to sit up, the sheets that were covering you both being lifted and falling behind him, the cold air tickling against your bare skin, making you shiver. You stared at him confused for a bit, but when he lifted up your legs forcefully you let out a small yelp and gripped the mattress as you legs being tucked above his arms and spread as he moved in closer between them until you felt the head of his cock press against your folds. Tilting his head slightly, his eyes watching how his length slowly began to slip into you, smirking when he heard the groan you let out. When pleased with how deep he was, Three-Fingers began the gentle rocking of his hips and moved inside you, his breathing getting louder and heavier from each movement, drooling at the heat and warmth you provided around his dick. 

You groaned at each time his cock slipped in deep, reaching up to run your hands from his chest and down to his stomach, leaning back when his thrust started to pick up a stronger pace. Sucking on your bottom lip, you reached down and began rolling your fingers over your clit, your body tightening from the new pleasure starting to build up inside you. The both of you began to get louder in your moans and cries, enough that it could be heard from outside and scared away the birds in nearby trees though they were not the only ones to hear you both. The bed started to creak as Three-Fingers thrust became rougher and wild, your legs wrapped around his waist and trying to pull him in closer as he fucked you hard. 

You leaned you head back and opened your mouth as you let out a cry of pleasure, feeling the wash of euphoria fell from your head and down to your toes, Three-Fingers on reaction was to dig his fingers into your hips, leaving red welts as his nails pierced skin, a guttered cracked cackle left his mouth as he came deep inside you. With you both spent and breathing heavily, Three-Fingers moved to lay beside you, lifting one of your legs to rest on his hip as he kept his cock deep inside your cunt, warm, slick and comfy. You peppered kisses along his neck and pointy chin before letting your head fall onto the pillow as exhaustion finally hit you. Three-Fingers was the first to pass out, having his arms wrapped around you to keep you close and soon enough you followed after. 

The door opened only a minute later, both One-Eye and Saw-Tooth having heard both your cries over the forest had got them slightly worried at what was going on, but seeing how you both were passed out asleep with their youngest brother balls deep inside your cum filled body only made them scoff at how loud you two were.

[loubuggins]

BBRae Week 2020

Author's Notes: It's been a while since there was a legitimate BBRae Week. I'm glad some kind members of the fandom created their own week. I will not be able to write something for every day, but I am happy to be participating this year. Each ficlet is a stand-alone story. I used both prompts for each day, as a personal challenge. Please remember to leave a review if you liked what you read. Enjoy!

Day 1 - Hot/Realization

There were not many ideal places around the tower to perform her usual mediation. Her room was too stuffy and too familiar. While she was comfortable in her solidarity space, it was easy for her mind to wander. Thinking of the dirty clothes on her floor that need to be washed or that new book tempting her for her bookshelf. She needed a place where her mind could stay committed to its task.

That was one of the reasons why she had chosen the roof as her primary meditation spot. Weather permitting, she was able to relax under the calming sound of the ocean waves and there was little outside that would distract her. That is what she was expecting anyway.

To her surprise, she found the roof to be already occupied on this warm summer morning. Two thin mats, brightly colored red and purple, were laid out near the edge of the t-shaped building. Raven felt like she was a living introduction to a joke. Why did the raven walk in on an alien princess and green shapeshifter? It was an odd sight, to say the least. One she was unaccustomed to.

Starfire was on her hands and feet, her head pointed down with her rear end pointed up toward the sky. Her long apple-colored hair fell in her face, blocking Raven from her view. Adjacent to the golden girl was a familiar pup with jade, shaggy fur, and darker green spots. The dog mimicked the girl at his side the best he could. His head lay flat on his own mat and is back arched inward. His tail wagged happily in the air.

The canine was the first to notice their new guest and gave a welcoming bark. Starfire turned her head and blew back her cascading hair. Her emerald eyes shone merrily as she spotted her friend.

"Raven!" She greeted with excitement in her voice. "Have you come to join us in the yoga?"

The plum-haired girl stared curiously at the pair for a moment. "Is that what this is?" She questioned back.

The dog gave out another bark before quickly morphing into her other teammate. "We were doing downward dog. Get it? Downward dog." The green boy laughed at his own joke and earned a smile from his partner.

"I have found the yoga to be quite relaxing as well as being a useful form of exercise," Starfire explained. "I have been wanting someone to join me and Beast Boy has volunteered."

Raven eyed the boy curiously. "You want to do yoga?"

The shapeshifter flashed her a grin and a wink. "Gotta keep these muscles looking fresh for the ladies." He teased as he held up his right arm and flexed his bicep. "Besides, it's actually pretty relaxing."

Raven raised an eyebrow at that. "Relaxing?"

"Yeah, it's super chill." He shrugged.

The empath rolled her eyes at his description of their pass time. Glancing around the top of their tower, she realized how cramped the area had become. Anxiously, she turned to the pair. "Right. Well how much longer will you two be?"

Beast Boy cocked his head to the side with a questioning look. "Why do you ask?"

"This is where I have my morning meditation." She explained as if it weren't obvious.

"Oh, right! I knew that." The changeling proclaimed.

"Raven, you are most welcome to mediate here while we continue the yoga."

Raven looked to Starfire, her face showing a hint of apprehension. "Thank you, Starfire, but I prefer to meditate without any...distractions."

"Oh we won't distract ya, Rae!" Said Beast Boy.

"Yes, we are most quiet and very focused," Starfire added.

There was a slight pause as the cloaked girl mulled it over.

"Alright, I suppose I can try." She conceded. "But," she added as she narrowed her eyes at the two, "I'll need silence."

The pair nodded enthusiastically. "Don't worry Rae, you won't hear a peep out of us! We'll be total distraction-free."

Raven did not quite buy that, but she believed they would at least try, so she gave in. She went off to the side, choosing a spot furthest away from them. As she sat, Indian-style, on the roof, her friends took on their own positions. They stood straight up on their mats, their backs straight and feet pushed together, hands at their sides. The pose did not seem like anything from yoga, but they were quiet and that was all Raven cared about.

Closing her eyes, Raven took in a deep breath through her nose and blew out a long stream of air through her mouth. She repeated the process, breathing in and out slowly. She focused on the rise and fall of her chest and felt the tension in her shoulders fade as she began to relax. With her head cleared, she decided to take a quick peek at her friends. She was surprised by their ability to stay so quiet for her. It was unusual for the loudest pair on Titans.

Opening just one eye, she peered in their direction. What caught her eye made her freeze. With where she had chosen to sit, she had positioned herself closest to Beast Boy, gaining a full view of the Changeling. At that moment, he was back in all fours again. Only this time, he remained in his human form. His hands were laid out in front of him while his feet were tucked under him. His back was arched and his hips were upward. He was back in downward-facing dog.

It was an uncomfortable position. The boy was slightly sweating as he worked to hold the position, but it was just as uncomfortable for his observer, for she got a great sight of his butt. Perfectly round and rightly plump, his rear end pointed right at her. He was not looking at her, thank goodness because she did not think she could hide the deep blush that now stained her cheeks. The worst part of it, and perhaps the real reason her face was now beet red, was the scandalous first thought that had crossed her mind.

"Beast Boy has a nice butt."

She aborted that train of thought as quickly as it came. Her teammate's...anatomy...was not an appropriate topic for today or any other day. She needed to focus on her breathing, not on the boy in front of her. But before she could close her eyes once more, Beast Boy shifted into a new pose. This time, he stood up with his arms spread out like wings. His feet were also separated, with his left foot stretched out and his right foot in front of him. His right leg was bent at an angle. Raven did not know the name of the pose, but she could easily spot the muscles rippling along his back.

"That's new." She thought as she studied his backside. She could not recall her teammate being so toned. And the spandex suit he wore made every muscle in his back, shoulders, legs, and arms pop out.

With this new visualization, Raven was beginning to come to a realization. Beast Boy...was hot.

[thebeautytoyourbeat]

I was tagged by @makeitpoppy 🌼

Are you staying at home from work/school?

Im taking my nursing school classes online, but I still go to work as a starbucks barista

If you’re at home, who is there with you?

I have my sister, my little brother, and my mom.

Do you have pets to keep you company?

My baby, October (she is a black cat), my sisters black/white fluffy cat named Archie who meows 24/7, and my German Shepherd named Pearl, who is the biggest scaredy cat.

Who do you miss the most?

Well I still see my best friend at home (my sister) and my other best friend at work :)

When was the last time you left your home?

Yesterday to get dinner from a drive-thru so I could bring it home and watch A Walk To Remember

What was the last thing you bought?

Very random things like some makeup removing wipes and vanilla coke zero

Is quarantine driving you insane or are you finally relaxed?

Since I’m in nursing school, I’d say I’m still VERY stressed lol. Also being home too much gets me a little depressed and I turn into an insomniac. 

Are you a homebody?

Absolutely, I wasn’t really one to go out before anyway (my town is way too small and unexciting). However, I find that I’m really missing the small things, like going to the theater. Regarding school, I’d much rather attend class then spend forever at home, frustrated, trying to figure out the huge load of online work I’ve been assigned and going through the powerpoints myself.

What movies have you watched recently?

A Walk to Remember, Ever After, Pride and Prejudice, Pretty Woman, My Big Fat Greek Wedding, and Endings, Beginnings (I would recommend ALL of these movies)

An event you were looking forwards to that got cancelled?

I was excited to see the movie Mulan in theaters, it was supposed to come out in March, but I think it's been pushed back to the summer. I’m also really sad about not getting to go to clinicals. I was finally going to see the hospital my mom works at this summer, but its highly unlikely now that I will ever get to see it.

What’s the worst thing you’ve had to cancel?

My cousins wedding was supposed to happen this summer and now she might have to lose her venue and do an at home wedding. She and I are very close, and I’m a bridesmaid in the wedding, so I’m just really sad that it might not be everything she has dreamed it to be.

What’s the best thing you had to cancel?

Well at first it was very nice not having to get up early everyday for class lol

Do you have any new hobbies?

Reading- mainly romance novels (btw if you’re looking for a good rec I highly suggest Slammed by Colleen Hoover)

What are you out of?

Nothing serious, just some concealer

What music are you listening to?

Stuck with U by Ariana Grande and Justin Bieber, Mecca by Wild Beasts, Miss You More by Sophia Angeles, and Boyfriend by Selena Gomez are some of my current favorites. And of course any Taylor Swift song 💖

What shows are you watching?

I’m catching up on Riverdale and Grey’s Anatomy. I tried watching Outerbanks, but I just couldn’t get into it. I recently got into Good Girls and omg I didn’t think that show would be so good lol (its very funny and I highly suggest it)

What are you reading?

I just finished reading Skyward by Brandon Sanderson via audiobook and I finished the last book in the Three Dark Crowns series. Recently finished the After series too.

What are you doing for self care?

I bought myself a candle from Target that supposedly smells like the cologne Harry Styles wears- its called Cashmere Vanilla and smells amazing if you're interested. So for self care, I will light that, put on a facemask, and listen to some music.

Are you exercising?

Not so much. I’ve been doing some light yoga most mornings though.

How’s your toilet paper supply?

Have yet to run out of toilet paper thank goodness.

Have you made any changes to your hair?

No, but I really need a trim. I have straight across bangs that are so long now that I need to sweep them to the side

I tag @hufflepuffannie @happy-joyful-spirit @waurrior and anyone else who would like to do it 💕

[thebeethathums]

Observers - 8

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader

Warnings: Self-doubt and past trauma

A/N: Enter gal pal Molly. 

You leaned against the outer wall of New Scotland Yard smirking to yourself over your previous behavior. It had been immensely satisfying and you weren’t going to let that little voice in the back of your head ruin that. At least you thought you weren’t. You shivered suddenly as a series of unwelcome memories surfaced and the voice pointed to them like an insistent and annoyed professor repeating a lesson for the hundredth time. You shook your head hoping the action would cause them to dissolve like an image on an etch-a-sketch. It worked to some extent and you took a deep breath as you reminded yourself that you didn’t have to think that way anymore, that you could be yourself and only yourself. Sighing heavily, you leaned back further to let the wall support most of your weight, glad that you’d had the foresight to come outside. The last thing you needed was for John to think something was up or for Sherlock to read more from you than he already had. You let your eyes wander over the people passing on the street in front of you, lazily noting random things about the more interesting ones in your head. Had you been sitting you would have pulled out your sketchbook and drawn a few as you often had when living in France. Anonymous people were a good way to keep your abilities exercised with little emotional connection and a fantastic way to pass the time. 

Sherlock and John emerged from the building a short while later and you pushed off the wall to join them as Sherlock hailed a cab, sliding into it to quietly draw Lestrade in your sketchbook while they discussed the case. You listened peripherally for anything of importance as you flicked the pen across the page.

The cab pulled up to St. Bart’s and you all but stumbled out of it after your companions. You looked up at the large building with a frown but there wasn’t time for you to be hesitant with Sherlock and John already a number of meters away and the distance continuing to grow. Skipping forward to catch up with them, you linked your arm with John’s to avoid running into him this time and soon you were walking into the morgue.   You bounced forward to survey the equipment on a long table, clasping your hands behind your back in an effort to quell the urge to touch things that you shouldn’t. A door across the room opened and when you raised your eyes they found a young woman with smooth brown hair furrowing her brow at you, “Who's this Sherlock?” You looked to the tall man, curious as to how he would introduce you, and found that he looked bored. 

“That is (F/n). We’re here to see the body,” he offered in a slightly rude tone and the woman looked taken aback. You frowned at him before turning to grin at her, “I think you know well enough to ignore his tone. I’m (F/n) Watson, John’s little sister.” She nodded, looking between you, Sherlock, and John for a moment, and then snapped out of her thoughts with a little shake of her head, “Oh right. Sorry. I’m Molly Hooper. Let's take a look at that body.” You followed her into another room, Sherlock had gotten impatient and strode past her and through the door already, and examined her as she pulled out a corpse for Sherlock to look at. She was saying something that was no doubt important but you couldn’t focus, something else distracting you. A few minutes passed and you couldn’t stand it anymore, letting out a small, frustrated growl as you stepped up to Molly, “Would you stop talking and stand still a minute?” John gaped at you, scolding words and apologies already tumbling out of his mouth and Molly had stopped talking out of shock. You ignored John, using the edge of your sleeve to wipe the lipstick off of a very confused Molly’s lips. When you’d finished you pulled a tube of lipstick out of one of the pockets of your bag, giving her a reassuring smile as you went to color her lips with it, “Don’t worry it’s new…I’m sorry but I just couldn’t concentrate. I hate to see someone so pretty and smart wearing a color that doesn’t compliment their skin tone. It’s a shame in my opinion.” You finished with a grin and placed the capped tube in her hand, “Much better. Keep it. I insist. I’m a bit of a lipstick junkie so I have others and I’m convinced that it looks better on you than it ever would on me.” She floundered a bit but you just smiled and spun her so she could see her reflection and her hand went to hover over her lips as she slowly smiled and managed a thank you. John gave the back of your head a light slap, “Was it really bothering you that much? You do realize that was rude?” You pressed your hand over where his hand had made contact with your head and tried desperately to keep your emotions under control, ducking your head down as you mumbled, “Sorry John. I was just trying to help but I see now that it was rude.” John’s expression went from annoyed to concerned, he had expected you to give him a grin and a shove while you confidently defended your actions as you normally did. He stepped closer to you and you involuntarily flinched away causing him to frown. Sherlock cut off whatever he was about to say in response to your actions, impatiently stating, “It’s a vast improvement, Molly. Now you were saying?” You stepped over to examine the body and escape John as Molly started up again, your attention now on her words and not the offending lipstick. You didn’t know if Sherlock had done that to rescue you from having to answer John’s questions or if he was simply being impatient but either way the distraction was welcome and you were grateful. You focused on the body, noticing various things as Molly explained how the man died and some running theories. You tilted your head after a moment, quietly stating almost to yourself, “He was recovering from almost drowning when he was strangled.” Molly startled, “Yes. How did you know that?” You shrugged, eyes still scanning to corpse, “I used to read John’s old textbooks when I got bored. The pictures were useful,” you tilted your cheek up slightly to address Sherlock, “Could it be that the killer’s first attempt was a failure? Something interrupted him and the strangulation was his way of cleaning up his mess?”   “That would be a fair assumption,” Sherlock responded, giving you a proud half smile as you tilted your head to the other side before turning away from him and the body. You felt out of your element, sure you read about things but you never actually did anything with the information and honestly you’d always been more interested in the diagrams of human anatomy. Your fingers itched to draw so you could either think or lose yourself in the action, right now preferring the latter so you could block out the many events of the day that were crowding your mind. You could feel a sense of exhaustion settling in and tried to fight back a yawn as you slumped to press your forehead into John’s shoulder. He gave a relieved smile at the normal action, writing off your previous behavior as the effects of your inevitable exhaustion from the day and the work you'd done in your flat. He rubbed a comforting hand down your back, “If we’re done here, Sherlock, I think it’s time for us to head back to the flat.” You straightened, shaking your head, “No. I can get back on my own if you need to stay or go somewhere else.” “Let’s go. We were done here anyway,” Sherlock said flatly, moving toward the door. John smiled at Molly before following him, “Thank you, Molly. We’ll be seeing you soon I’m sure.” You hung back and offered her a grin, “It was nice meeting you. Really. I’m very sorry for before.” She grinned widely at you, “It’s alright. I was certainly nicer than the things Sherlock normally does. Did you just move to London? I could show you around sometime if you’d like. Everyone needs a friend in a new city.” You grinned, “I’d like that a lot. Those two are either too smart to be bothered or too terribly fretful to be any fun.” She laughed and you exchanged numbers on your way into the other room. It was good to know you could still make friends.

[dillydedalus]

january reading

why was this january at least 3 months long

unequal affections, lara s. ormiston (audio) this is jane austen fanfiction about an alternate version of the story where lizzy does accept darcy’s first proposal - their ensuing engagement, which (because lizzy doesn’t go off about how she feels about darc in this one) is full of unspoken conflicts and tensions & hella awks. the initial premise needed some suspension of disbelief but once i got over that i found it super enjoyable, pretty believable in terms of character interactions and interiority (darcy is a dick), funny & sweet. i don’t think i will necessarily start getting into JAFF now (tho goodreads rly thinks i should), but this was just. nice. wholesome. also now i want to reread p&p..... 3/5

lincoln in the bardo, george saunders (uni) ya know what i really liked this. this is about abraham lincoln mourning his young son willie during the civil war, not exactly a topic i’m particularly (at all) interested in, but the execution is so cool - it’s told partly thru fragments from historical records, books, letters (both real and imagined) and partly thru the voices of the many ghosts stuck in a kind of limbo in the graveyard, who are trying to get willie to move on, while they themselves desperately try to stay in limbo, bitter about what went wrong in their lives and in denial about their state. & it’s done really well, the polyphony and contradiction of the historical record (one chapter has a bunch of quotes about how ugly lincoln was & then the last is like ‘idk i thought he was kinda handsome’), and the ghosts are so sad & bitter & desperate & hopeful. 4/5

the steppe & other stories, anton chekhov (tr. from russian) bunch of short stories from 1880-1890s russia. to be honest, i found most of them pretty boring, although ‘the duel’ is pretty good, an interesting look at how sticking too closely to your worldview/ideology/morality will probably either make you a useless disaster person or a eugenicist douchebag. some of the other stories were okay as well, but overall: 2/5, i’mma stick with his plays

perfectly preventable deaths, deirdre sullivan  teenage ocd witch book! this is a pretty good YA witchy horror book about twins who move into their new stepdad’s castle (yeah he has a castle) in a weird irish village where girls have been going missing for decades. creepy magical-ish things start happening (of course) & our narrator isn’t sure whether her sister’s new age-inappropriate boyfriend is just creepy, or creepy. i love the concept of ocd witchery & the atmosphere is really good as well, but the pacing is off, with slow build-up & a climax that happens way too quickly. also like can someone please say the word ocd it’s not gonna kill ya. 3/5

the priory of the orange tree, samantha shannon gonna be controversial here & say... yeah this should have been a duology. give the world some room to breathe, give the characters some room to breathe (give me another book w/ a cover this spectacular). anyway, this is a bigass book about eastern vs western dragon lore, a holy queendom (go sabran of inys!!), dragonriders, lesbian sword mages, how religion & historiography marginalises women, and magical trees. & like, okay, i wrote a lil thing right after finishing it about how i had some quibbles with it but enjoyed it overall but you know what? the more i think about it/let it sit the more complaints i have and the more annoyed/disappointed i get. 1) i liked all the characters fine, but none of them feel like they have any depth - i feel like i could sum all of the main characters up in like 3-4 words, and while i was rooting for ead/sabran, even this, the most central relationship of the book felt... surface-level. like, there were some big emotional moments but generally all i felt was like ‘good for her’ or ‘that sucks i guess’, 2) this world & its mythology is very much inspired by eastern vs western dragonlore so i understand the need to ground the fantasy world with real-world parallels but the extent to which some of the countries are literally just fantasy versions of real countries was... frustrating? irritating?? this is especially grating as, while inys is very clearly fantasy!britain, there is a lot of cool world-building (religion, aristocracy, history/myth) to make it more than that, while fantasy!japan and fantasy!china are literally just ... ‘what if japan but with dragons’. i did like fantasy!netherlands because at least you don’t see that a lot. 3) so much of the plot is just people travelling to different locations to get and transport different items but most of the travelling is cut short by some magical animal/being turning up and just transporting them in a cutscene.. 4) considering that this is all about dragonlore the dragons sure aren’t as important in the end as the three macguffins of power. 5) i loved so much about kalyba but not where it led, that said i want a kalyba-hawthorn-nurtha backstory.   okay that’s it for now but like. idk. this had a lot of potential but the execution was just severely flawed. 2/5 

trust exercise, susan choi this was super hyped, especially for a game-changing twist of some kind, but has a rather low rating on goodreads (3.18!) so y’all know i was intrigued. i’m not going to give away the twist because it is genuinely really cool if not really all that original, but this is a really clever & cool book about theatre kids, teenage dramatics, constructing your own narrative and what that excludes, elides, changes, and most of all consent & abuse (some very triggering depictions of sex/sexual abuse here). i really liked this, and am considering buying a copy so i can reread it. 4/5

soldiers of salamis, javier cercas (tr. from spanish by anne mclean) very meta novel about a writer called javier cercas writing a book (tentatively called soldiers of salamis) about a (real) falangist poet who escaped a mass execution & survived in the forest for a while with a group of republican deserters. ‘cercas’ researches, speculates, despairs, talks to roberto bolano (who compliments his previous books lol), and finally tracks down the man who he believes/imagines/hopes to be the soldier who let said fascist poet go, leading him to consider who really should be remembered & written about. made me think about that one poem about reading ezra pount that ends w/ a veteran saying ‘if i knew a fascist was a great poet, i’d shoot him anyway.’ interesting book altho i far prefer his book anatomy of a moment, one of the weirdest & most fascinating nonfic books i’ve read. 3/5

the stopping places, damian le bas (audio) damian le bas comes from a settled british romani family and, feeling somewhat unsure about his place in & connection to the community, he decided to go on a roadtrip through britain (+france) in a van to seek out the atchin tans or stopping places, starting with the ones his great-grandmother remembers from her childhood before the family became settled. he combines the travelogue with insights into romani culture(s) (mainly british) and history, as well as his own family history. it’s really interesting & engaging (the history&culture more so than the travelogue) and le bas narrates the audiobook himself & sounds like a cool dude. 3.5/5

confessions of a bookseller, shaun bythell  bythell records a year of working as a second-hand bookseller, with an entry for every day. he talks about the impact of amazon, rude & weird customers (but also nice customers), his weird staff, and some of the books he’s reading. the look into bookselling in the age of amazon is pretty interesting but much of this is banal & repetitive, & if it wasn’t the perfect thing to read in little bits while at work i probably would have dnf’d it. 2/5

giacomo joyce, james..... joyce  super short story by my man jamesy joyce that never made it out of manuscript (literal). not much to say about this - it’s interesting to see jj play around with themes while still working on portrait & thinking bout ulysses & the prose is nice, but the whole english tutor feels attracted to his student is a bit... eh. 3/5

[oshyoideum]

EDIT/NOTE/WHATEVER: it���s actually repost of post from 2018 but it never showed in the searches so why the fuck not try again (literally copy-pasted it so)

Okay, so my first real work here on Tumblr, of course it had to be fanfic xD Upon inspiration from @actuallydeglace and her wonderful fanfic “Marrow” I wrote KimiSaku ‘cause who can stop me!? Welp.

I used one of @theradiointukyshead ‘s AUs.

Enjoy, I hope xD

It’s fucking long (4992 words)… could be longer but still long

AU: i come to get my laundry in the basement at like 3 a.m. and WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU WEARING ALL WHITE TO PRACTICE YOUR VIOLIN IN THAT DARK CORNER??

    Sakura was sitting alone in her dorm room munching (quite loudly) on her very tasty and very unhealthy chips while trying to focus on her notes. She was studying the material for the next test for few hours now and… what was the time? Shit, it’s almost three in the morning… I want to sleep… Sakura sniffed quietly after checking the time on her phone.

   The biggest test from anatomy was around the corner and the girl’s poor nerves were not helping her to prepare at all. In the past few days she was angry almost all the time, she wasn’t sleeping enough (three or four hours of precious sleep definitely were not doing her good) and due to lack of time her meals contained only of junk food and occasional fruit (bless Ino). On the contrary though she was very well prepared now studying only a few last topics so her misery hopefully won’t go to waste (It definitely won’t go to waste!  Sakura said to herself as one more negative thought crept into her mind. She was working so hard, she will definitely not only pass but will get a very good grade as well, there is no other way, is there? No.)

   After stuffing another fist of chips into her mouth, Sakura got up from her rather uncomfortable chair (but it had backrest so she wasn’t slouching! She promised herself to find at least one positive with everything she was hating in this tiring time) and did some stretching so she would be able to feel all of her limbs again. She glanced for a second on her small collection of empty cans of energy drinks and three empty as well mugs of coffee. Wow… I’m so lucky Ino went somewhere tonight ‘cause she’d definitely start lecturing me and that’s the last thing I need right now. She quickly started to get rid of the proof of her crime: crushed all cans and put them in the trash can, rest of the chips shoved in the little gap between wall and her bed where she put all of her ‘shape murderers’ as Ino liked to call junk food, she did nothing with the mugs yet but she will later wash them.

   Okay, so she almost cleaned the crime scene (aka her desk), that’s good. But she got this feeling that she forgot about something. She looked around the room searching for some sign and after a few minutes of staring at nothing in particular (losing focus again, are we?) she saw at the corner of her eye laundry basket that should be full of her dirty clothes but actually wasn’t. So that was the thing! Few hours ago she went to laundry room to do her laundry and she went back to her room so she wouldn’t waste any more of her precious time needed to study. And she forgot about it. Wow.

   She put on one of her baggy hoodies and some convers and sighing loudly took her basket in one hand and keys to the room in the other and dragged herself out of it. Like a responsible girl she is, she locked her dorm (why would she take keys if she wasn’t going to lock the door? Maybe self-defense but she has fists so kind of no). After few seconds of listening to some distant music probably from upstairs she finally started to walk. She felt her muscles ache from all the sitting in the recent times but she couldn’t even go to do some exercises at the gym because of lack of any free time. Eh, what a drag.

   When she reached the bottom floor she stopped in front of stairs which led to the basement where her destined point - laundry room - was. Who thought it would be a good idea to put laundry room in the basement!? Students don’t want to go to the basement at three in the morning! (Well, no one who actually does their laundry at normal time of day.) What if there are some monsters or even worse - what if there are some drunk people who will throw up on her fresh clean clothes!? Disaster!

   At some point of her internal complaining Sakura thought she heard something from the dark corridor below. But she must have misheard, right? There was literally no reason for anyone beside her to be down there. She knew she was the only one who did laundry in the evening that day and she was one hundred percent sure that none of her fellow students would go down there to get broom or something to clean at night. So she must have misheard. There was no other rational explanation. And she was a little high on the caffeine that was still in her body and overly tired after her passionate date with anatomy textbook.

 Yup, misheard.

   But, as she started to take steps to get down the mysterious sound occurred once again. There was very little possibility that maybe her ears finally started playing tricks on her after all the excited screams Naruto was producing every day or loud music Ino liked to turn on when she was dressing herself or really anything else.

   When the sound didn’t stop this time Sakura started to get nervous. Her heart rate increased and her hands started to get sweaty. After watching so many horror films with her friends her mind was able to create some pretty impressive scenarios of what might have been down there. She probably should just turn around and run to her very safe dorm to her very safe bed. But she was too exhausted to listen to her rational side and she needed those clothes! What would she wear to tomorrow lectures? She put almost everything she had in the washing machine so beside her actual attire consisting of sports shorts, old top and hoodie her only other piece of clothing was little black dress (very short and very backless). So she REALLY needed to get her ass down there, scare whatever there was, collect her things and run for her life! Okay, should work she decided.

   As she was taking more steps towards this cursed basement she realized that the sound was actually pretty nice. Was it violin? She listened closely and indeed, the mysterious sound was violin. Very nice violin actually, slow peaceful music was filling the staircase. It was very relaxing theme and Sakura decided she could listen to this beautiful notes all eternity if she have had the chance. It made her loose up a little and she even smiled at the thought of someone playing such masterpiece at three in the basement.

    Right, if there was sound there has to be a musician too! That realization made Sakura open her eyes widely and stare into the darkness. What if there was a ghost? She didn’t know how to deal with ghosts!

   I need clothes, there is nothing in there, that’s just hallucination Sakura started to repeat it like a mantra in her mind.

Okay, so I’m going down slowly. Nothing to worry about, I’m sure…

I bet there is a ghost!

Shut up! There isn’t a ghost! I’m just very tired!

Yeah, so tired that you just started talking to yourself.

Hmpf…

And you know what that means? Psychosis!

   Sakura growled low under her breath and pulled herself together. She just went quickly two steps at a time and jumped from a few which lasted. And then:

 “AAAHHH!”

   Sakura screamed at the top her lungs upon seeing a ghost. A GHOST! She stumbled backwards and fell on the stairs bruising her hip and elbow and everything! She just wanted to get up and get the hell out of there. In the brief second of courage she looked up and saw someone who looked equally as scared as she was (but this ‘someone’ wasn’t laying on the floor). This person was wearing a white shirt and also white pants and… didn’t have shoes. The only light that was illuminating was from open doors to the laundry room and it was very dim creepily white light.

   Between her sharp fast breathes Sakura looked at the pale face of ‘the ghost’ and found herself shocked. She knew this person! White, quite long hair were gathered into well-maintained man bun with a red hair tie. Under person’s eyes were dark a little reddish circles (does no one in this college sleep? Probably.) and these eyes, these beautiful eyes in bottle green color she could not describe enough to give them justice (where is all this poetry she read sometime when she needs it!?).

 “Kimimaro!?”

   The man didn’t looked so startled after realizing that screaming being was Sakura, small med student who sometimes talked with him about music and a lot of different things. And whom he actually really liked and always enjoyed her company.

    He put his violin down and walked over to the girl still lying half on the flat floor half on the stairs and offered her a hand she gladly accepted. He gently pulled her up and gave her her dropped laundry basket and keys.

 “Hello, Sakura.” Said Kimimaro with small polite nod.

 “What are you even doing here!? And with… with a violin!?” Sakura was still recovering from traumatizing event and was shaking a little while frantically gesticulating with her free hand.

   Knowing how to calm her (sometimes she’d came to him really angry and he learned a few little tricks) he took her small hand into his bigger one and started to gently draw small circles with his thumb. With his other hand he took a loose strand of her pink hair and brushed it behind her ear. For a moment he was stroking her cheek with his knuckles and kept doing so until her breathing started to normalize. That was it, his language of choice - touching and feeling and she seemed to like it too.

 “So, did you calm a little?”

   Sakura closed her eyes for a few second and then opened them with a sigh.

 “Yes, thank you.” She looked into his eyes only to see worry and uncertainty. Why was he worried? “What are you doing here hiding in the shadows like that?”

 “Well,” He let go of her hand and suddenly she felt very cold in this particular place even though she also felt nice tingle around her fingers and at the back of her hand and on the cheek. It was this kind of feeling that made her a little bit more happy. “Kabuto is studying in our dorm…”

 “Did he kick you out!? If he did I will kick his ass!” Sakura interrupted him before he had a chance to end his sentence.

 “No, no need to worry” He looked into her eyes with such gentleness and delicacy that she almost could feel her heart breaking but with the happiness. He touched her shoulder and then forehead. Under his soft long fingers she relaxed her furrowed brows. It was strange to her that this man, Kimimaro, was able to calm her down and put at ease better that her lifetime friend. “I just wanted to practice a little and did not want to disturb him.”

 “Okay… but why in the basement? Why at night?” she took a quick glimpse of his bare feet “And where are your shoes?”

   Suddenly Kimimaro looked kind of sheepish when he avoided Sakura’s eyes and rubbed the back of his neck.

 “Well, I couldn’t sleep and… I’ll show you.” He said while turning his back to the girl and walked towards the case of his violin. He took out a piece of paper and asked her to come closer where there was a little more light.

   She took the paper and started reading.

 “Dear Mr. Kaguya. We are looking for new talents, blah blah blah, you’re fine work may result in becoming one of the most renowned composers. Ha! Told you so.“ She looked up with the happy grin before continuing. “ Blah blah blah, and we are honored to inform that you have been chosen to play as one of the few young prodigies at our autumn concert at the opera! Oh my god, that’s wonderful!”

   Sakura let go of her basket and practically jumped on the completely unsuspecting man. She hugged him tightly around his neck trying not to crease the letter too much. After the first wave of shock Kimimaro reciprocated her hug almost as tight. His embrace was warm like the first sun in the spring after months of cold or like a cup of hot chocolate during said cold months of winter. He smelled like wood of which his violin has been made of and soap but what soap exactly she couldn’t tell.

   After a while she backed out a little and put her free hand on his cheek and moved it slowly to the side of his neck and finally shoulder.

 “I’m genuinely so proud of you. Even though I’m not in a position to be but you just… worked so hard and you love it and put so much of yourself in it… I’m really happy for you.”

 “Thank you.” He said with little content smile and released her from his embrace. “It… means a lot actually.” (Did he blushed a little or shadows and light were playing with her? She couldn’t tell.)

 “No problem. That’s what friends are for.” She flashed him her happy grin and collected her things from the floor. “So that’s why you couldn’t sleep. You must be very excited.”

 “Pretty much, yes.”

 “Wow, this is really awesome. I wish you the best, you know.” She stated with a soft smile and smirked. “But you still haven’t told me why you’re not wearing shoes and why exactly are you practicing in the basement.”

  She stared deeply straight into his eyes. Now he was definitely blushing and his embarrassment was so adorable it put Sakura into even better mood. (How was it possible when half an hour ago she was miserable? Maybe he was some kind of mystical creature who was bringing happiness, who knows.)

   She pointed on her basket. “You can tell me while I take my clothes, okay?”

   And not really waiting for him she entered quite big place with a lot of washing machines. (Good washing machines with dryers.) She placed basket on one on them and opened two machines she used and started taking her clothes out of one. Kimimaro placed his violin down next to Sakura’s container and stood next to her to help her. He was standing really close to her, she could feel heat of his body on her bare legs.

 “So…?” She nudged hum slightly.

 “I was playing here because this corridor has decent acoustics.”

 “Okay, so this is understandable even though I’m pretty sure there are some better places with good acoustics than basement.” She gave him a side look. “But nevermind… Shoes. Why you don’t wear shoes?

 “Ach…” He scratched his head while giving her a few shirts. “They are here” he pointed next to the door “but I took them off.”

 “I can see that. I’m not stupid, you know.”

 “I would never suggest such a thing”

 “I know… ugh, I’m just do tireeed.” She whined stuffing the last piece of clothing to her definitely too small basket. (How did she bring here all this in this stupid thing?). “I’ll drop the shoes topic, maybe you just felt like being barefoot, I don’t know.”

 “Maybe.” He let out a small chuckle. What a pretty sound she decided. She wanted to take her full basket but was stopped by pale warm palm on her hand.

 “Please, let me help.” She considered the offer for a second. She definitely could carry it back to her room but who was she to deny such a nice offer. She nodded only and waited until he put on his damned shoes and took the basket. She took her keys and his violin and they both exited laundry place. His shoulder brushed lightly against her as they were going up the stairs.

 “So… you going back to Kabuto? ‘Cause you know, you can sleep with me.”

   She processed words that came out of her mouth only when she saw surprised expression on Kimimaro’s face.

 “Oh fuck! That’s not what I meant!” Even though I can’t deny I would want to… I’D TAP THAT! “Sleep with me as in with me in my dorm! Ino went somewhere and she probably won’t come back until a lot later so there is one bed empty.”

 “Oh” My god, was he disappointed!? “It would be nice actually, Kabuto can be a little grumpybefore exams.” The understatement of the year.

 “Tell no more. I was studying with him twice and please no more! They say ‘three times a charm’ but not in this case, there won’t be a third time. No way ever! Nu-uh!”

  Oh, he chuckled again. Sakura could swear this was one of the best sounds she ever heard in her life and she heard a lot. She smiled at him and they walked to her room in pleasant silence disturbed only by distant music.

   Once inside the dorm Kimimaro set the basket on the floor while Sakura gently put his violin on a windowsill. She kicked her shoes of and made a gesture with her arm presenting the whole, not so big, place.

 “Welcome to my little kingdom where nerves get shattered.” She bowed theatrically “Make yourself at home.”

 “Thanks.” He said smiling. He walked over to her desk and looked and her textbook and dirty mugs. “I see you’ve been studying as well. That is why you were doing laundry so late?”

 “Yeah, big test soon. Anatomy, dreadful. I normally like it but in the last week I slept only twenty hours out of hundred sixty eight that are in the whole week. I know, I counted.”

 “It is not good for your health.” Oh, he was worried again. It was nice.

 “Yup. But what can I do? Gotta be a doctor so gotta study hard.” She said with a fake chirpiness in her voice as her arms slumped. Kimimaro put his hand reassuringly on Sakura’s back and rubbed for a while. He didn’t know what to say but he knew that she’d understand his little gesture.

   Sakura focused on warm spot on her back when his hand rested. She started to feel a little tingle in her insides which was… pleasant to her surprise. She wasn’t surprised of her obvious attraction but rather of feeling of connection if she could name it like that.

   She straightened her back and moved a little away from the man. She took off her hoodie and threw it on the chair.

 “I’m gonna take a shower. You can go sleep or read some book… or wait if you want to shower too. I’ll be back in a while.”

   She went to the bathroom and took her clothes off. She looked at her reflection in the mirror while having an internal battle with her shame, morals and want.

Do it.

It’s stupid. Stupid! I can’t.

Do. It. Make

Stop! Don’t you dare end this sentence.

Make your dreams come true…

But I’m not sure if it’s appropriate…

It isn’t. Just. Fucking. DO. IT!

ALL RIGHT! Stop talking!

I’m you so you’re the one talking.

 “Smartass.”

   She took a towel, wrapped herself in it and without much thought went out.

   Kimimaro sat on her bed with some book. Upon hearing the door open he looked up to see practically naked girl looking at him with fire in her eyes. It was unexpected even though he wanted her to look at him like that for some time now. He couldn’t help himself not to eye her toned legs a little but he quickly looked back at her face.

   Sakura was overall very confident but suddenly she felt uncertain. “Well…” Oh, to hell with that. “Would you maybe like to take a shower together? You know… to… to save the water!” To save the water!? It’s the worst excuse you could come up with. Yeah? Then tell me a better one! …fair enough.

   Okay, so this definitely wasn’t one of her proudest moments. She wasn’t as good in seducing as Ino! (If it even can count as seducing.) But she stood strong trying to look confident and at least a little sultry.

   Kimimaro stared at her blankly for a few seconds processing the situation. He knew Sakura could be straightforward but he’d never thought such a bold move was in her repertoire. So he just smirked (Sakura was sure that if her self-control would have been any less her knees would just give up by now upon seeing this beautiful sexy face with such an expression. Hot damn.) and played along.

 “Since saving the Earth is the most important I do not see why not to take up on your offer.”

   Sakura backed down to the bathroom and threw at him the same towel she was wrapped in. She went into the shower and turned the water on. Warm, transparent liquid started to flow with a pleasant hum. Pink hair stuck to her bare shoulders, neck and high on her back. She moved them away from her face.

   Short after she saw her shower curtain move and felt the presence of another body behind her. He stood back to back with her. She turned around and moved her left hand to touch his shoulder. She felt his slight shiver under fingertips. Her hand moved a little down to his shoulder blade and under his arm to rest where his heart should be. She hugged him from the back feeling his rapid heartbeat. Did it beat so fast for her? She certainly hoped so because her heart beat so fast for him too.

   He moved her hands away to turn and face her. He looked into her glistening green eyes, so similar to his but so different. Full of emotion, of passion and happiness and desire. He leaned down a little and at the same time she stood on her tiptoes resting her hands on his shoulders for better balance. Their noses were now touching, They could feel each other’s breathes.

   She was the first to break the eye contact between them. She looked for a brief second on his lips and covered the little distance to finally touch them. She kissed him gently first, it felt almost like touch of a feather or butterfly’s wing. His lips were very soft and oh so perfect. Like made just for her.

   When she broke it, he pushed her lightly so she’d lean against tiles.

 “Kimimaro…” she let out with a satisfied sigh when he kissed her again. But this kiss wasn’t gentle and careful. It was very strong, full of passion and hunger. It was dangerous like fire during drought and sweet as fairy floss.

   He gripped her thighs and lifted her up. She put her legs around his waist. They were so close that even a sheet of paper wouldn’t fit between them.

   Between their heated kisses she was able to blindly find the tap and turn the water off. Then she hooked her arms around his neck with her hands in his white hair.

   He secured her with one hand on her bottom and kept caressing her back with the other. He walked out of  the shower and into the room.

   Without tripping on anything he walked to her bed. As they fell on the mattress he secured himself with one hand to not collapse on her.

   He gazed upon female body beneath him. He took in all of her smooth skin with scars here and there. All of her little beauty mark. He took in all of her.

 “I thought you were tired.” He said with quirked eyebrow.

   She knew why he said that. He wanted to give her exit if she wasn’t ready. Even though she should be the one to do so as she was the one who lured him.

 “I’m not anymore.” She propped slightly on her elbows. “Do you want to…?

  Kimimaro leaned forward until his lips reached her ear close enough to touch and whispered:

 “Why would I not?”

   He then licked the spot on her neck where the pulse was and blew on it. It resulted in shiver down her spine.

   He began moving down slowly, leaving feather like kisses on her neck, collarbone, chest. When he came to her breast, he left a few more around her nipples. He drew the tip of his around one of the nips and blew. Her breather hitched in her throat due to that sensation. He did the same with the other one. He sucked and bit on skin next to it. She arched her back with soft moan.

   He moved to her stomach where some of the scars where and he kisses every single one of them looking not to miss any.

   When he got to the legs he started with ankles and kept going higher and higher. He was trailing the path with his fingers on which his lips appeared after.

   All of this was like worshipping. He chose his own Goddess and he worshipped her body like he worshipped her mind any other day.

   When he came to her thighs she pulled him back to her lips and mumbled between her heavy breaths: “Stop teasing…”

    She reached out to her nightstand, opened the drawer and took out a small plastic package. Then she sat on her knees and gently pushed Kimimaro so he would sit down leaning against the wall. She put the package between her lips and moved closer to him on all fours. She slowly moved up sitting between his legs.

 “You look so… tasty I could devour you.” She whispered into his ear.

   His breath quickened as his hand roamed across her body.

   She moved down to be on eye level with his hard standing member. He twitched in reaction to her gentle touch. When the shaft from the bottom to the tip one of Kimimaro’s hand found its place in her hair and a few not-so-silent groans left his throat. She kissed the tip licking off the precum and moved back only to be met with disappointed sound from the man.

   She chuckled and opened the little package. She took condom out and looking straight into her lover’s eyes she ducked down again and slowly put in on his member licking not yet wrapped parts.

   Without much of a warning she positioned herself above him and quickly lowered herself on him so he was all inside. It resulted in loud moan from her at the feeling of complete fullness and stretching and groan from him at the feeling of her tightness.

   She rested her head in the crook of his neck breathing heavily just like him. He put his strong arms around her hugging her tightly.

   After a while she slowly started to move up and down, up and down. Their breather hitched. Loud moans and groans filled the whole of the room. They were moaning into each other’s ears while moving in a perfect sync.

   They were one now. One body and one soul. This was their moment.

   Sakura started to move faster. Her thighs were starting to ache but she didn’t think about it. She was focused only on her and his release. Her mind was clouded full only of the sounds of them making love.

   He put one of his hands lower on Sakura’s ass to keep her steady. He kept whispering to her ear how beautiful she was.

   She kissed him passionately feeling orgasm building in her stomach. They were both moving frantically until Sakura moaned and screamed loudly into his lips.

 “Ahh, Kimi… Kimimaro!” Her whole body was shaking when he helped her to ride out her orgasm. Not long after he himself felt his sweet release grunting.

   They both panted heavily and he pressed his forehead to hers. They looked each other in the eyes and listened to their quickened heartbeats in the silence.

   She got off him and laid down waiting for him to come back. He laid down next to her and took one of her hands in his and trailed little patterns on her skin.

   Sakura turned to lay on her belly putting her crossed arm on his chest and resting her chin on them. She was half laying on him but he didn’t seem to mind.

 “So…” she started not really knowing what to say.

 “Would you like to go on a date with me?”

  She laughed at the odd, considering the situation, question.

 “We messed up the order, didn’t we?”

 “I suppose we did.”

 “I’d love to go on a date with you.” She responded with a grin.

 “Good.” God, his smile will be the death of her.

   Not so later on they both fell asleep.

   Ino opened the door to her dorm without knocking.

 “Sakura! You won’t believe what…” The blonde girl stopped shocked.

   Well, Sakura was where she ought to be but she was naked and with this boy she kept talking on for some time.

   Well, well, well… what have we here. Ino took out her phone and with one of her most sinister grins snapped a few (around twenty) pictures of sleeping couple. So the material for blackmailing has been collected, now she had to make sure the lovebirds would have peace.

   She took Sakura’s phone from her nightstand and turned off all of the alarms. Haruno will be so mad but one lecture won’t make her any less smart, will it?

   Ino took one last glance on her best friend’s bed, took some clothes to change and as silently as she could went out of the room.

Okay.

That was it. My first ever facfic written in English and my first ever smut (I’m like 99% sure if this was more ‘porn like’ smut I would do better).

I think it’s decent xD

[pseudocitrus]

more (a lot of shameless) musing writing/life/etc. this year under the cut (pls check tags if needed):

by the time the end of the year came....i think i started doing....pretty well. that is to say, even right now, i feel surprisingly mentally and emotionally healthy, i think. mostly.

it’s hard for me to say this decisively because i still have moments where i jerk up and suddenly panic about something that is, frankly, kind of silly, or at the very least generally unlikely. like some weeks ago at 3am i woke up and suddenly was unsure if a certain on twitter person (who i have never interacted with!! ever!!) was still following me, and the thought that they might not be was suddenly just, the most terrible thing. for the past couple days i’ve been slipping in again into anxiety attacks that i thought (siiiigh) i “finished” with. thoughts like “disease is so scary i’d rather die now than ever have to experience something really terrible and painful that drives everyone i love into debt and kills me anyway” still pounce up despite my best efforts and curated keyword muting. when i think these things, it’s easy for me to describe myself as not actually happy. something i’m chewing through is the idea that maybe this is an acceptable form of happiness after all — that is, feeling a majority of Totally Fine Feelings, and a minority of disease is so scary i’d rather die now than ever have to experience something really terrible and painful that drives everyone i love into debt and kills me anyway.

i’m really a “words” person, by which i mean a lot of my problems are about words, and so are a lot of my solutions. did i say the right thing? why haven’t they said anything — do they hate me? when i recognize my perspective getting skewed, i try to self-correct by piling through different lenses one by one, until i feel like i can see clearly again. in this way, tokyo ghoul has been a treasure for me, a chest of healing phrases. things like Even if it’s unstylish, live; or, I can’t wish for you to be happy…it’s so easy to become unhappy. I only wish for you to live — these are my magic spells. i cradle them and feel a little warmth, and even sometimes, a little sting in my own eyeballs AAH lmao. i can take a breath and suddenly it’s ok to not have 100% Totally Fine Feelings.

i’m accepting a little more that, similar to how you have to take a shower and eat food and exercise etc. every day and/or frequently, maybe an emotional/psychological well-being isn’t also something that you “level up” and then no longer need to worry about. it has needs that must be cared for. and just like anything else there are times when it gets sick and then especially needs to be cared for, rather than beaten into submission.

i’ve relied a lot on tokyo ghoul this year. some part of me, at the thought of it ending (whether this ends up happening soon or not) feels just~ a little~ terror, lmao. i’ve become really attached. a lot of what i do creatively is related to tokyo ghoul; a lot of the little things that make me happy on a daily or weekly basis is related to tokyo ghoul. i’ve tried other manga and anime series and, at least right now, even if i like them a lot (like the ancient magus bride, vnc!!) they don’t capture my heart as completely.

(frankly, maybe that’s ok. do i really have room for something else that will consume me as much as tg?)

if i try to analyze what’s led me to having what i consider to be a more healthy outlook, i guess i would say that something that’s made me feel more free and good is writing fic the way i have recently…just, the slightly built-out ~200 to ~500 word “headcanons” without much surrounding context, lol. coming up with titles and descriptions has always been a huge pain to me and it’s nice to not have to worry about it.

i talked a little bit about how i started to feel a little less desperate for notes this year, which was a personal problem of mine that i thought i’d have to struggle with forever. frankly, it’s entirely likely that those desires for attention and love (which i did not like relying on as much as i, personally, did) might come back one day, and, i’m trying to prepare myself for it.

if i think about any actions i took concretely to get to this current mindset, however, i’d say that, unexpectedly, writing the small headcanons really helped. they helped me write without me feeling like i’d invested a lot of time and energy into a Full Story whose reception would end up disappointing me in some dumb and irrational way.

i mean.....each headcanon bit still took about an hour or more on average haha. and i still checked for notes and felt really happy for any positive comment. i guess the important thing is that my overall mentality was different. i could relish the act of writing without feeling like i absolutely needed something else other than the writing to have my basic satisfaction met.

i don’t want to go over details, bc writing can be something for me where, the more i talk about it, the less i want to write. but, my mood also took a HUGE turn for the better in november, when i started trying to do nanowrimo. ///

i didn’t finish. i didn’t, technically, even “write” anything — i was super busy, so all i did was plot-outline. but the amount of psychological reward for doing just that much was incredible. i was able to admit to myself that the only thing that kept me from writing “this story” which i so desperately desired to write was plain fear, and giving myself permission to start, was like letting out a breath i’ve held for over a decade. i was afraid of not actually having a story and of not, after all these years of fanfic-writing, being able to actually come up with characters for myself. truthfully, i am still afraid of all these things. but now i’m afraid and have something to show for it other than my own private hopes and dreams, which — after so long — had become more of a poison than a light.

it was around this time that things happening in tokyo ghoul, which sometimes had the ability to drop me into panicked and/or sad and frustrated states, also stopped having such a huge effect on me. (which was good, for me, personally.) i’m still not done with the plot of this story...actually, i haven’t worked on it in a couple weeks lol, there’s been so much going on. but once again i’m starting to some dark thoughts sink their claws into me and now i feel equipped to think, oh........even though i don’t know what to do next in that story, even though i’m still afraid of writing it, even though i know it will be hard and my failure to come up with something might be “proof” that i’m not actually good at writing......the truth is actually that trying to write it anyway is what will make me feel better.

this year is also the year that i finally made some headway into forgiving myself for giving up drawing when my schooling started getting really difficult. for a long time i was frustrated with myself for not drawing — if only i’d used those years more — then i’d be so much better now than i am! i started the year trying to do more digital drawing but just couldn’t swallow my self-loathing long enough to finish anything, so i bought a daily journal thing and invested more in pencils and pens and paint and strangely, having the physical thing, drawing the same way i drew back before i “gave it up,” made it a little easier. (as i write this i feel really stupid, lmao. when i enjoyed drawing, i did it mostly on paper...of course returning to drawing on paper would feel better! idiot!!)

anyway. still. i made myself draw and sincerely, literally hated everything i drew in the first six months. one day the person i live with came home and saw me crying at my desk and was just like, “ah, yes....let me guess....you are a terrible drawer and that means you’re a terrible person,” and i,, just,,

i drew faces over and over and also allowed myself my enraged commentary. i copied. i did it over and over and over again. and finally — just now, literally just now, i’ve been drawing and....not hating it at least 50% of the time, lmao. with the daily journal it’s easy to look back into earlier months and feel furiously embarrassed by how terrible some of my old sketches look, and also feel strangely relieved. like.....ah, ok. so all of that effort. even if all i could do was cry in the short-term. ended up leading to something in the long-term after all.

anyway, i accept i’m not an amazing drawer. in my real life i feel surrounded by artists who look at my dumb scribbles and make comments on whatever weird anatomy i did that i had five seconds prior thought looked totally fine. all i want, at least for now, is to be able to draw more of the kinds of things i like, and this year i feel thankful i had the privilege and luck and energy to do more of that.

hmmm. anyway. that’s it i guess. this year had a lot of lows, not just for me personally but for like,, my entire country, lol. the kind of special helplessness and hopelessness i’ve felt this year is something i’ve never felt before. sometimes indulging in my own self-introspection feels unbearably selfish. how could you possibly be focusing on your dumb feelings and thoughts when there’s so many other important things going on?

even if it’s a selfish belief, i want to think that allowing myself to struggle in self-love, allowing myself to have space to exist with all my flaws and failures, is important self-defense in a world that feels increasingly like it wants to snuff me out. my small relatively trivial personal struggles this year have really taught me that my bad feelings are “ok” to feel and that i always always always have the power to react in my own way. my bad feelings, as much as i wish they just didn’t exist, have, this year, have helped me understand a lot more about the way that i actually want to live my life.

ANYWAY!! BIG SIGH!!!! here’s to 2018!!! :’)

[koiboioi]

September 23, 2020 | Los Angeles, CA 11:57pm

Wow I actually started this blog post before midnight.  Kudos to me lol.  Slept in today but managed to wake up around 9 and started to study at about 1030 probably.  But I got a lot of studying done!  Started my fourth course out of eight I think?  So that’s been going well despite missing a day yesterday.

I ate one of the meals I prepped again for lunch today--it was the pesto chicken dish with sun dried tomatoes, cherry tomatoes, and broccoli.  It’s so good.  I’m definitely going to make that again sometime.

I don’t even remember officially “clocking out” of studying.  Oh right--I remember now.  I asked S if he wanted to take a walk with me before it got dark.  So we walked a few blocks.  It was really nice and not many people were out.  I don’t think I sweat at all--if anything I was just starting to perspire which usually happens a lot sooner and it really bugs me.  But the sun had pretty much set but the sky was still a pretty purplish color.  It was arguably even better than when the sun is full on out because the sky has been so smoggy looking these days and the resulting sun comes out a bit washed out and dry if that makes sense.  Although I still like walking in the mornings so that will still be a thing!

Once I got home I exercised in the bathroom and then took a quick shower.  I changed and immediately thought to myself: I’m going to watch some grey’s anatomy and eat dinner.  So I made some frozen fettuccine alfredo (JL was supposed to get me fettuccine pasta with no sauce but he misinterpreted lol) and turned on the tv!  I watched the last three episodes of season 12 and it was such a nice season finale compared to the previous ones in terms of me not being unbelievably stressed by the show lol.  

S came out and we watched a couple episodes of the beginning of season 3 of Breaking Bad too.  That’s getting pretty good and I like that I’m seeing some character development.  

I guess that’s pretty much it.  Nothing too exciting happens with my own personal life, which is probably for the better.  Not like what’s going on in the world right now.  But we can’t lose hope.  I know there’s a light at the end of the tunnel, I’m just not sure where, but it’s there.  

[halfabreath]

Always Halfway to Go, Part III

Part I. Part II. The Tag. Read it on Ao3. 

Ever since Bitty moved in Sunday afternoons in the Haus have been sacred. Guaranteed brunch is the ultimate means of Haus bonding and Ransom knows that no matter how stressed out he is about his upcoming anatomy test that he still has to go downstairs and show his face. He’d hoped that getting up early to look at his study guide would help relax him enough to eat without guilt but it had only set him off instead.

Ransom’s just extracted himself from under his bed, where he’s been hiding for the past hour, and is halfway down the steps when he hears the commotion at the front door.

“Oh, good morning! Come in!” Bitty’s words carry through the Haus easily, bright and friendly.

“I really shouldn’t, Bittle.” Ransom stumbles on the steps when he recognizes Adam’s deep voice. He grabs onto the railing to steady himself, taking a moment to prepare. Adam is here, in the Haus.

“Do you have somewhere to be?” Bitty presses, using the no-nonsense tone he employs with the team.

“No, but I - “ Adam tries to protest, falling directly into Bitty’s trap.

“Then come in! I’d be remiss in my Southern Hospitality if I ever let someone turn down food.” Despite the buoyancy in Bitty’s voice there’s still no room for argument. When Ransom continues down the steps the scene comes into view: Bitty has the door thrown open and Adam is on the other side, shoulders curled in with his hands tucked in his pockets. Bitty might be a half foot shorter than Adam is but Ransom can tell he’s going to win this battle. As unprepared as Ransom had been to see Adam, he can’t leave him there looking so blatantly uncomfortable.

Ransom jumps the final few steps and lands right beside Bitty, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Bitty, I don’t wanna freak you out but I think I smell something burning.” He says, and Bitty bolts towards the kitchen with a worried yelp. Adam’s shoulders come down from around his ears. “You really should come in. It’s not going to be weird, I promise.” Ransom says before Adam can run back to his car.

“I don’t know, I’d have felt so weird if a random coach-like figure dropped in on one of my team breakfasts.” Adam frowns and crosses his arms, fingers tapping nervously along his bicep. Ransom can’t help but track the movement, and if his eyes linger on the shifting muscles, well. He’s only human, and it’s a nice bicep.

“Yeah, that would be strange, but you’re not a random guy. Besides, you dropped in on Hazeapalooza and it was fun, right?” Ransom says. He shifts his weight, moving to the side so he’s not blocking the threshold.

Adam worries his bottom lip with his teeth. It’s cute, even though he’s bigger, broader, and more bearded than Ransom will ever be. “Yeah, I’m just - “

Ransom cuts him off. “Seriously, bro, if you don’t come eat with us they’ll be disappointed.” It’s true - Adam’s almost a mythic figure, an actual professional hockey player who’s suddenly dropped into their lives. Ransom thinks they don’t know the half of it. "Besides,” he continues, waving Adam in. “Brunch is like, the least formal and most chill meal. Plus, Bitty made cinnamon rolls.”

“Fine, but only because I have to drop off tape.” Adam sounds resigned at best but Ransom knows he’ll feel more comfortable after he sees how much they all like having him around.

When Ransom and Holster step into the kitchen they’re greeted with a chorus of good mornings and one goddamn, look at these beauts. Ransom pushes Holster towards the seat next to Lardo and drops into the one right next to him. Separate conversations crop up as Jack asks him about his test schedule and he hears Lardo quietly talking to Holster about his weekend on his other side. Bitty and Shitty are engaged in a contest to see who can create the most aesthetically pleasing frosting pattern over their cinnamon roll.

It’s a gentle chaos. They talk with their mouths full and spill their coffee but soon everyone’s leaning back in their chairs, filled with dough, sugar, and spices.

Ransom’s just taken a picture of Bitty’s perfect cinnamon roll, because he always wins the food styling contests, and he’s adjusting the filter levels when Jack pipes up beside him. “Which, uh, thing are you putting that on? Instergram? Or is that the one hundred word limit thing?” Jack asks, mouth set in a confused frown. Shitty rolls his eyes fondly and Lardo smiles down at her coffee, but Adam and Bitty both look over at Jack in shock. Bitty begins a long, rambling tangent about the virtues of Twitter when a deeper voice cuts through.

“You don’t know what Instagram is?” Adam asks in horrified amazement. The team groans, having already been down this path a thousand times. “Jack, Betty White has an Instagram.”

Jack blinks. “Who’s that? Does she go here?” He turns to Ransom, which makes sense given that he’s the one charged with reminding Jack of who he knows and doesn’t know. Ransom, though, is distracted by the series of blink and you miss it expressions flittering over Adam’s face. There’s the shock, of course, then the wonderment that comes when he’s forced to contemplate just how much pop culture Jack doesn’t know, then Adam even looks angry for a hot second. He opens his mouth and closes it several times, trying to make sense of the situation he’s found himself in. Ransom pats him on the back; they’ve all been there.

“I need to sit down.” Holster finally says.

“You’re already sitting.” Jack helpfully points out in his cat-got-the-cream chirping voice. Holster levels him with a flat look, one Ransom’s seen him shoot at reporters asking stupid questions during post-game interviews.

“I need to sit again, Zimmermann.” Holster snaps, but there’s a lightness to it. It’s a nuanced annoyance, with a little bit of fondness and a whole lot of snark. Ransom loves it. Shitty cuts in with an anecdote about how Jack thought Kim Kardashian was one of the cheerleaders their freshman year. Ransom watches Holster’s expressions shift in bursts of disbelief and laughter. He’s one of them now.

“I’m fucked, I’m fucked, I’m so fucking fucked!”

The cry is slightly muffled by the thin walls of the Haus, but Adam can still make out every desperate syllable from his spot at the kitchen table. He and Jack have been going over tape for the last hour, occasionally debating drills and conditioning exercises but Justin’s cry has him staring up at the ceiling in concern. Jack, though, still has his eyes trained on the screen of his laptop, and Adam knows he’s not the most personable guy but he hadn’t expected him to be that cold. Jack’s nonchalance is the only reason Adam hasn’t bolted out of his chair and scrambled up the stairs, bad knee be damned.

“Are you gonna?” He asks, nodding his head in the general direction of the stairs. They’re the only ones in the house besides Justin and whatever’s going on sounds like it’s serious.

Jack just shakes his head, finally tearing his eyes away from the footage of Bitty’s assist at their last home game. “No, he doesn’t like anyone to see him when he studies. I tried, during his freshman year, but having someone there makes him more anxious.”

“I’m not freaked out, I’m anxious, I have anxiety.”

Justin’s words from their discussion after the first practice of the preseason ring in Adam’s ears and while he believes that Jack knows best, leaving Justin alone doesn’t sit well with him as they keep talking. He’s distracted, constantly glancing back and forth between the doorway and the screen until Jack closes his laptop with a sigh.

“Class,” he explains succinctly, giving Adam a quick farewell nod, and then he’s out the door. Adam’s alone in the Haus and he can’t help himself from going to check on his…what word should he use? They’ve decided to be friends when no one’s around, and as Adam walks through the Haus it’s painfully clear they’re alone. He takes his time on the steps, following through on the motions like his physical therapist told him to, and to his surprise he’s able to clear the first floor with no pain at all. He knocks on the attic door, a warning, before opening it slowly. He knows it’s probably creepy, hearing the door creak open and then uneven footsteps slowly coming up the stairs, but he can’t rush this.

When he arrives at the top of the steps he thinks that Justin has left. There’s no sign of him but his backpack is on the bed and there are books strewn across the floor, and just when Adam’s about to go back downstairs he catches a flash of movement from under the desk. He rounds the corner and sure enough, all six feet and two inches of Justin’s muscular frame is curled up under his desk. His flexibility is impressive but frankly worrying because that can’t be comfortable for him, and he’s not moving at all besides the shivers that jolt through his body intermittently. Holster gently raps his knuckles on the top of the desk, like he’s knocking on a door, and Justin doesn’t acknowledge him at all.

Adam has no fucking clue what to do. Justin clearly doesn’t want to be touched or bothered, but Adam can’t leave him here alone. Slowly, carefully, he eases himself down until he’s sitting across from Justin.

“Hey, uh, there isn’t enough room in the living room to do my stretches, so I’m just going to do them here if that’s all right?” Justin doesn’t speak but his eyes flicker over and Adam takes that as a good sign. He slowly works through all of his floor stretches, trying to take up as much time as possible. His excuse is flimsy, but every time he glances under the desk Justin’s shoulders seems a little less tense, and by the time Adam has finished he’s spread out as much as he can in the tiny space.

“You should do the figure four stretch.” Justin says suddenly. His voice is tight and strained but at least he’s speaking. Adam nods and moves into the familiar position. It looks strange and it feels less than comfortable but when he relaxes back and sits normally he actually feels pretty good.

“Thanks, man.” Adam stretches his legs out in front of him, carefully reaching forward to touch his toes now that his quads are loose.

Justin rolls out from under the desk and lays down, spreading out for the first time in God knows how long. Adam hesitates for a moment, then lays down next to him, staring up at the wooden ceiling.  

“I have an anatomy test tomorrow. I’m…Not great with tests.” Justin says, voice hoarse. When Adam looks over his brows are knitted together, his full lips pulled down in a pained frown. His muscles must be aching from the stretch after being so tense.

Adam bites his lip, then fills the silence. “I, uh. I heard you yelling.” He admits, eyes tracing over Justin’s pinched profile.

Justin doesn’t seem surprised. “What did I say?” He asks softly, resigned.

“You just said you were fucked? Like a lot?” Adam winces, hating how his voice rises in an unsure question. The last time he’d seen Justin so stressed he’d instinctively known what to do, what to say. Now, though, with their strange history and weight of the pull he feels towards the other man, he’s not sure how to help.

Justin sighs, covering his face with his hands. “Yeah, that sounds like me.” He sounds embarrassed and exhausted. Adam moves over in small, minuscule stages, shifting until their arms are pressed together. Justin’s hands fall to his sides, and Adam has to fight the urge to lace their fingers together. Justin’s quiet for a long moment before he speaks again. “It’s hard to find a place to study. I don’t like to be by myself because, well.” Justin waves his hand in the vague direction of the desk. “But I don’t like to be in public because,” he waves at the desk again. “The library’s too quiet, the kitchen’s too distracting - plus I’ll get fat from all the pie I’ll eat - and I can’t go to a coffee shop if I’m going to yell about getting fucked.”

“Come study at my place.” The words are out of his mouth before his better judgement can kick in. Justin’s looking over at him in surprise, which yeah, makes sense given how strict he’s been, but he can’t bear the thought of Justin spending another minute alone under his tiny desk. “I mean it.”

“I don’t know -”

“it’s perfect. You won’t be by yourself but you won’t be in public, my neighbors are loud as fuck so there’s always background noise, I won’t distract you because I’ll be studying too and I can’t cook for shit so there’s not going to be anything to eat, anyway.” Adam explains, addressing each of Justin’s concerns one by one. The solution is so clear to him now.

“What about the yelling? Won’t it weird your neighbors out?” Justin asks, sitting up. Adam sits up, too, turning to face  him. His leg is still stuck out awkwardly to the side and Justin’s curled up on his knees, but he looks thoughtful instead of terrified, and Adam can see that he’s almost convinced him.

“They hear weirder shit when I binge watch The Real Housewives.” Adam shrugs, nonchalant. It’s not a lie or an exaggeration of any kind. Those ladies are in some shit.

“What about…” Justin vaguely gestures between them. It’s astonishing how the slightest flick of his wrist can encapsulate all that’s been left unsaid.

Adam shrugs, about to mumble an excuse about how coaches are supposed to help student athletes thrive before deciding against it. This isn’t for Oluransi, #11, the core of his defensive line. This is for Justin, his friend. It’s good for you to be close to them, Murray had said. “Offer stands. You have my number - just text when you need a place to study.” He heaves himself up and offers Justin a hand, waving it in his face until he takes it and pulls himself up. “Seriously, anytime.”

“Thanks.” Justin says, almost shy. Adam’s suddenly aware that they’re still holding hands, and he gently pulls his away. “So…” Justin continues, expression shifting into a sly grin. “Like, how often do you watch The Real Housewives?”

Four days later Ransom finds himself tucked under the kitchen table at two thirty in the morning, eating a hot pocket he’d dug out from the very back of the freezer. Every once in awhile the ceiling creaks; Bitty’s still awake and if Ransom had any sense at all he’d go upstairs and sit on the clean floor of Bitty’s nice smelling room but instead he lingers beneath the table, sitting directly on the sticky patch that apparently was formed during a kegster Johnson’s sophomore year. He takes another bite of the hot pocket. It’s still cool in the middle but he eats it anyway, unable to loosen the grip he has on the table leg.

It’s a low point, that’s for damn sure, and midterms aren’t for another three weeks. He’s not going to make it to second semester if he keeps this up. Justin’s told himself that he needs to find a healthy way of dealing with his thing a million times, but now, tonight, with the top of his head pressed against the grimy bottom of the kitchen table and chilly marinara sauce coating his fingertips, Justin knows he has to make a change. Luckily, Adam’s already given him an opportunity, one he knows now he shouldn’t, should, no, shouldn’t, wait, should pass up. Justin sighs; it’s time to make a list.

He forces himself up to wash the sauce off his hands at the kitchen sink, wincing when his shorts stick to the linoleum floor. Justin immediately runs up to the attic to take them off. After he brushes the tomato aftertaste away and washes his face he curls up in bed with his phone and makes a new note. It’s painfully clear he has to do something, but is taking Adam up on his offer the right thing?

PROS:

I like him

He immediately cuts and copies it to the CONS column he creates below. He tries again.

PROS:

he knows how to help (citation: A- on anatomy test)

my GPA will thank me (i luv u bb)

no more screaming in the library (everyone wins)

I’ll survive fall semester (probably)

CONS:

I like him (fuck)

I’m not allowed to like him (double fuck)

this will make me like him more (triple combo fuck)

He stares down at his list, and the data speaks for itself. Four pros to three cons? The Pros have it. He closes the note and texts Adam.

Me: can i study at ur place 2morrow after practice

He winces when he sees the timestamp. Adam doesn’t reply before he falls asleep, but when he wakes up the next morning he finds a new message (and seventy seven Instagram notifications, but his outfit of the day yesterday was stellar and he regrets nothing).

Adam [Honey Pot Emoji][Arm Emoji][Sparkle Emoji]: Sure, meet me by my car after.

Hours later, freshly showered after a long practice, Justin finds himself loitering in the parking lot next to Adam’s car as he waits for the other man to emerge. He worries the strap of his backpack between his fingers, twisting the fabric into tight rolls only to release it and begin again.

“How’d you know which car is mine?” Asks a deep voice just behind his shoulder. When he turns Adam’s standing on the other side of the car, a small smile on his face. He looks so good when he smiles.

Justin shrugs, matching Adam’s expression. “Buffalo plates,” he explains, opening the passenger side door to climb in. Adam’s apartment isn’t far from campus, and they pull in front of his building in minutes. It’s a classic Samwell apartment building, one of the many renovated town homes dotted around campus.

Adam’s on the first floor, and within moments Justin’s in his space. There’s painted over crown molding and the original hardwood floors creak beneath his feet. It somehow seems cozy and sparse at the same time. There’s a soft looking couch with blankets and a sweatshirt thrown over the back but just behind it is a mostly empty bookshelf. He recognizes some of the books - they’re all by sitcom writers or SNL celebrities - and there’s pile of pucks haphazardly stacked on the top shelf. He can’t make out the writing scrawled along the white tape that’s wrapped around the edges but he instantly recognizes them as Adam’s game mementos. The desk on the opposite wall is completely devoid of clutter, as is the coffee table. Meanwhile, the kitchen counters are crowded from daily use - a box of teabags is still open on the counter next to an honest to God kettle and there are dishes in the sink. It’s not that Adam’s neat, Justin realizes. He just doesn’t have many possessions. Adam gives him a quick tour that ends with him clearing a stack of mail and some assorted cups from the kitchen table as Justin sinks into one of the chairs and pulls out his textbook.

When he finally finishes the problem set an hour and a half later, Adam’s nowhere to be found. The apartment is quiet but for the occasional creaking of Adam’s upstairs neighbors moving around and the soft music that’s wafting over from Adam’s open laptop, still positioned across from him. There’s an empty bottle of water by his elbow he doesn’t remember drinking, but when he swallows his throat isn’t as dry as it usually is after a study session. He throws it in the recycling bin and stands, wincing when the movement tugs on his sore muscles. Adam had put the defensemen through the ringer that afternoon, pushing them through drill after drill with no remorse. It had been a relief, actually, to focus on anything besides the stress of school. He’d managed to sweat out the last bit of tension clinging to his back and neck and by the time practice had finished he’d felt almost like he hadn’t cowered under a table for the better part of an hour the night before.

Justin wanders through the apartment, pausing to glance at the stack of pucks on the bookshelf. #4, 1ST NHL GOAL, DETROIT, one reads. Justin turns away, feeling like he’s intruding on some private part of Adam’s life even though he’s seen the goal footage before. He turns down the hall, searching for the bathroom. Adam had said it was at the end of the hall to the right? Left? He’d been on the cusp of Study Mode during the tour earlier and hadn’t been paying that much attention. Justin picks one of the doors and turns the knob, brow furrowing in confusion when he steps inside.

It’s not a bathroom, that’s for sure. It’s probably meant to be an office or second bedroom, but it’s clear that Adam’s just using it for storage. A piano peeks out from the darkest shadows at the back of the room. There are cardboard boxes and large plastic containers everywhere, a thin layer of dust covering them. Only one box is open, and Justin can see a pop of Schooners blue and green peeking through the brown flaps of the box.

It’s none of his business. Adam’s lived here four months and still hasn’t unpacked, but it’s none of his business. Justin slips back into the hall and tries the other door, relieved to find the bathroom on the other side. He doesn’t intentionally snoop, but he can’t help but notice the frankly ridiculous amount of tooth-care products Adam has - he’s got three different widths of floss and at least four brands of toothpaste.

The kettle, the piano, the floss. Justin’s gotten to know more about Adam in the past two hours than he had in years of post game interviews and he desperately wants to know more.

When Justin steps back into the hall he hears the sound of the front door opening and closing. Plastic bags rustle as the lock turns, and when he arrives back in the open living room Adam’s there with carryout.

“Hey, sorry, I didn’t think you’d mind if I left, especially since I brought food.” He explains sheepishly, holding up the plastic bags like an offering.

“Nah, it’s cool. I’m fucking starving because someone made me do a bag skate at practice today.” Ransom says with mock annoyance, already beginning to clear the table.

Adam laughs and Justin can’t help joining in. “Your coach sounds like a dick. Reminds me of my water aerobics instructor.” He chirps. Justin rolls his eyes. He’s not that bad. He just knows what Adam is capable of.

“Really?” Justin asks, raising an eyebrow. He’s smiling, though, so it probably isn’t as effective as it should be. Adam just nods and sets the bags on the table.

“Definitely. This guy doesn’t let me get away with anything.” He says, handing Justin a container of fried rice. They trade chirps as they eventually migrate to the couch with beer and their food, carefully positioned on opposite ends as they watch the second half of a basketball game. Justin lingers until the final buzzer sounds and he officially doesn’t have an excuse to stay any longer.

Justin slings his backpack over his shoulder and follows Adam to the door, taking one step outside before turning around.  He’s unsure of how to say goodbye. For the first time that evening Justin feels like he’s on a date. He wants to step back inside and kiss the taste of beer off Adam’s lips - it’s not a new feeling, certainly, but the past few hours hadn’t felt like a date. Studying, greasy takeout, and watching basketball is what friends do, but this, the way they’re looking at each other, the pull he feels towards Adam, this feels like a date.

“Keep your teammates out of trouble this weekend.” Adam’s leaning against the door frame, white t-shirt stretched over his broad chest.

“I always do.” Justin shoots back.

Adam laughs, rich and deep. “That’s a lie.”

“Yeah.” Justin shrugs, smiling ruefully. He adjusts the strap on his backpack that’s twisted around, tugging on it idly. Adam reaches out, slipping his fingers under the fabric to straighten it out for him.

“Get back safe, Ransom.” He says fondly. It’s the first time Holster’s used his nickname unprompted, when it’s just them. Ransom beams up at him, something warm and bright unfurling in his chest.

“I will, Holster.” Ransom says. He thinks back to his CONS list. This will make me like him more, he’d written. As he walks back to the Haus he adds it to the PROS column.

Justin straps on his gear with tight, explosive movements, tugging the synthetic material with far more force than necessary. He’s been in a foul mood all day, ever since Adam stood him up for their regular meeting before water aerobics. He’d been worried sick when Adam hadn’t shown up to class, so distracted that he’d almost ended the routine before the cool-down stretches in his haste to find his friend. He’d even run over to Adam’s apartment and knocked on the door, lingering until the lost possible moment before he had to rush back to campus for class. He’d arrived late anyway, and to top it all off he’d received a team-wide e-mail from Adam containing the week’s practice schedule. An e-mail’s not a bad thing, in and of itself, but if Adam had the time and resources to send an e-mail then he had the time and resources to text Justin and let him know he’s okay.

He slams his helmet on and makes his way to the rink, letting his stick clang against the equipment and detritus left in the halls by his teammates. Adam’s already on the ice, talking to Jack before practice begins, but Justin bursts onto the ice and does a few quick laps, trying to burn off his anger before he has to speak to Adam in front of his teammates. Everyone knows they get along - Ransom is slowly becoming RansomandHolster - but he won’t be able to explain why he’s so angry.

Luckily, Justin doesn’t have to speak to Adam until the second hour of practice when the lines have separated. He’s standing next to Adam, watching Nursey and Dex do drills with Ollie and Wicks when he breaks.

“You didn’t come this morning.” Justin says suddenly. It’s the first thing he’s said to Adam all day, and the words are tight and angry.

Adam doesn’t react. He stands still with his arms crossed in front of his chest, looking out over the team as they skate. “I know.” He finally says, but he doesn’t look away.

Justin squeezes his stick tightly. “I went to your apartment.” He turns and Adam finally glances over at him, a quick flicker of blue before he turns his gaze back on the other defensemen.

He takes a deep breath. Justin waits for him to speak, mouth set in a grim line. “I know.” Adam exhales, letting out the breath in a quick huff.

Something boils in Justin’s gut. It’s too vulnerable to be anger and burns too hot to be anxiety and he realizes it’s disappointment and hurt melted together in a sticky, bubbling mess. When he was knocking on Adam’s door, worried sick that he’d fallen in the shower, Adam had been inside waiting for him to leave. Adam had let him wait, Adam hadn’t let him in, and Adam doesn’t seem to care about either of those things. “Then why didn’t you let me in?” Justin whispers harshly, demanding an answer. They don’t have much time but Justin doesn’t know when they’ll speak again, since Adam’s apparently content with abandoning him.

A muscle in Adam’s jaw twitches; he must be grinding his teeth. Good. “I couldn’t.” He ducks his head, offering no explanation.

Justin scoffs. “But you could take the time to send us a redundant fucking e-mail? C’mon, Adam.”

“I’m sorry.” It’s the softest Adam’s voice has ever been, the syllables so timid and tumultuous Justin can barely hear the words over the din of practice. When he glances over Adam’s staring down at the ice and for the first time that morning Justin actually looks at him. His beard is longer, bushier, unkempt. There are bags big enough to carry equipment in under his eyes, and when he adjusts his baseball cap Justin can see that his hair is unwashed and greasy. I couldn’t. It’s obvious he’s not doing well, now that Justin is finally looking, and he doesn’t understand how everyone around them is doing practice as usual when Adam’s so clearly in pain. He doesn’t understand how he hadn’t seen it and he swallows down the guilt before swinging his stick to gently bump it against Adam’s shoe. The disappointment and hurt cool quickly, transforming into sharp worry.

“Next time, text me.” He says, giving Adam a small smile when he looks up in surprise. “Not just that you won’t be there, but so I can help. I’ll sit outside your door and study until you can let me in.” He’d through it would at least make Adam smile, but he simply nods, apparently resigned to more days just like this one.

I couldn’t.

The words stay with him after he skates away for drills and conditioning, as he showers and changes after practice, when he’s sitting in his Public Health class hours later. He racks his memory, trying to figure out exactly when Adam had taken a turn. Two weeks ago he’d had Justin in hysterics before class with his impersonation of Linda. On the bus during their last roadie he’d watched Adam’s shoulders shake as he laughed quietly at an episode of Parks and Rec. Before practice last week Adam had mentioned going into Boston and planned on seeing where an episode of 30 Rock had been filmed before his appointment with a specialist.

The realization jolts him awake, out of the daze his professors’ droning voice always sends him into. The appointment must not have gone well and now Adam’s depressed because of it. It makes total sense and now he knows exactly what to do. He opens Excel and creates a new workbook: Adam’s Recovery and Road to Eventual Happiness Masterplan.

He can already fill in some of the categories: Frog Kick Mobility, sitcoms re-watched, Aerobic Endurance, Stride on Ice Speed, but he knows he’ll have to ask Adam directly about everything else. He feels confident in his progress after class, and it’s pure luck that has him bumping into his friend in front of Founders later that afternoon.

“Hey!” His voice sounds weird, too cheery, but Adam doesn’t seem to notice. He barely even looks up, actually, his hat still pulled down over his eyes.

“Hey,” Adam echoes, sounding absolutely exhausted. He manages to give Justin a small smile, but it comes off as more of a half-grimace. Justin can’t ask him directly about how he is when he’s clearly doing so poorly.

Justin bumps their shoulders together gently, making sure he doesn’t actually hit Adam too hard. He sways anyway, off balance until Justin reaches out to steady him. Adam doesn’t react. “I’m going to Annie’s; wanna come?” Adam looks like he’s about to protest, but Justin takes a few steps ahead of him to block his path. “I didn’t get to see you this morning.”

“I don’t know why you’d want to see me.” Justin can barely hear the mumbled string of syllables but he stands his ground.

“Dude, Holster, please. I’ll even buy your gross leaf water.” He bargains. Using Adam’s nickname is a gamble. It usually makes him duck his head, embarrassed, but Justin always manages to catch exactly when his eyes light up. Sometimes, though, it sends him backpedalling back into the carefully constructed professional zone he’s set up for himself. Today, it makes Adam’s shoulders droop as he gives in. It’s worse than the backpedalling.

“Fine.” Adam sighs in agreement. Justin moves and they walk side by side to Annie’s, the backs of their hands brushing occasionally. He wonders what would be so bad about taking Adam’s hand. Statistically speaking, there are very low odds of any negative consequences. Hall and Murray are both off campus and the team isn’t anywhere in sight. It’s all Justin can think about when they walk into Annie’s and when Adam holds the door for him. They’re standing in line, pressed together in the small shop, when Justin takes a chance. He trains his eyes on Adam’s face and carefully laces their fingers together.

Adam doesn’t react, at first, but after a long moment he squeezes his eyes shut, inhaling shakily, and tightens his grip on Justin’s hand. His fingertips are calloused but his palm is broad and the heat from his fingers seeps into Justin’s. They wait in line for a long time, their coats and bags hiding their clasped hands, saying nothing. Adam only lets go after they’ve ordered and paid, releasing Justin’s hand just before he turns away to find a table. He selects one in the corner and has one leg propped on an extra chair by the time Justin arrives with their drinks.

“Thanks,” Adam says, smiling for the first time that day. It’s small, just the slightest curve of Adam’s lips, but it’s real. Justin drops his bag into the chair across from him and settles beside him, his knees brushing against Adam’s good leg under the table. It feels intimate and he wants to take Adam’s hand again but he knows it’s an objectively bad idea. He hadn’t calculated the consequences of holding hands two separate times.

“Anytime,” he says, and means it. They sip their drinks in silence before he leans in and breaks it. “So how was Boston? Did you see where Tina Fey yelled at a tour guide?” Adam chuckles, low and throaty, and it’s the best thing Justin’s heard all day (and he found out he got a 94% on a test, so).

“Tracy Morgan, and yeah, I did. I even got to see Vichy - ” He cuts himself off with a laugh when he sees Justin’s confused expression. “Antoine Kerlovich, he played with me in Seattle but was traded to the Bruins right before the deadline last season.” Adam clarifies, and the new data makes Justin’s head spin. Maybe it wasn’t the appointment at all, but seeing an old friend? Being confronted with someone who still has what he’d lost? Before his train of thought can spiral too far, Adam’s leaning back in his chair with a soft smile ghosting over his lips. “It was good to see him. He’s trying to get me to visit him in St. Petersburg when he goes home, because his ‘grandmama makes best food, Holtzy, you like and eat and get big and strong like me.’” He’s actually grinning when he slips into the dramatic Russian accent, and Justin laughs with him, knowing that Adam’s got at least six inches and forty pounds on his former teammate. He quickly reverts back to his original hypothesis - visiting Kerlovich clearly put Adam in a better mood, and Justin can’t keep from asking his next question.

“And the specialist? Good news?” Adam’s face twists, and Justin’s about to call the whole thing off before he replies.

“Yeah, actually.” Adam picks at the lid of his cup, fidgeting with the plastic rim. His big hands dwarf the cardboard container but his movements are delicate and contained.

“Yeah?” Justin echoes. That’s the last thing he expected to hear. The data doesn’t support his hypothesis at all but the conclusion is the same: Adam is hurting, and Justin’s going to fix it.

“I’m, uh, doing really well. I have above average mobility. I’ll even be able to skate as soon as my physical therapist clears me.” Although Holster’s saying good things, his face has fallen yet again. Justin wants to take his hand again, to pull him in and hold him tight enough to banish that expression from his features forever, but they’re in public and not even together and all he can do lean in and hope his presence is somewhat comforting.

“You don’t look like a guy with above average mobility.” He says slowly. Adam looks up at him in surprise, like he can’t believe someone’s noticed he’s not himself. Justin aches because it’s not entirely unfounded; he’d only realized earlier that morning when Adam’s been back from Boston for at least four days. He spends so much of his time making sure that he doesn’t stare at Adam that he’d missed the signs right in front of his face.

“I feel like shit, Justin. I’m in pain, I can’t do any of the things I used to do and I’m supposed to think I’m doing great? This isn’t what great is supposed to feel like.” Adam’s voice his hollow, punched-out and exhausted. His shoulders are drooping towards the table and someone as large as he is shouldn’t look fragile, but he does.

“It’s going to get better.” Justin says weakly.

Adam gives him a flat look, too tired to be fully annoyed with his platitude. “Is it? No matter what I do or how much I improve I’m never going to get back to where I was. I’m going to plateau at some point and it’ll be all downhill from there.“

Justin doesn’t know what to say. There isn’t a formula for this, a professor didn’t tell him that he’d have to know what to do in this situation. He can’t ask Excel what to say to make his friend feel better. He glances around the room - no one he knows is there, and everyone from the team is usually in class right now - and cups his hand over Adam’s. Adam squeezes his eyes shut, just like before, but this time he pulls his hand away. He stands, moving faster than Justin’s ever seen him.

“I have to go.” Adam takes his tea and weaves through the tables. It takes Justin a second to process and then he’s up, grabbing his coffee as he follows as quickly as he can without accidentally knocking someone over. He catches up to Adam in seconds and takes him by the shoulder. Adam tries to shrug him off half-heartedly but Justin just tightens his grip. They’re alone in the quad, the space empty as usual during popular class times. They square off, both holding their Annie’s cups, mouths set in thin lines.

“I can’t let you help me with this.” Adam’s broad shoulders are hunched, drawn inward. Justin wants to push them back into place, wants to feel his muscles bunch and jump under his hands, wants the warmth of Adam’s skin to seep through his clothes and onto his palms and then he wants to shake some sense into this asshole.

Justin takes a step to close the gap between them, then another when Adam automatically moves backwards. “You can’t stop me.” He says, and it sounds menacing as fuck but he’s just trying to help.

Adam blinks, taken aback. “What?” He asks, brows narrowing. Justin advances again, determined to make Adam understand that he’s not going to back down easily.

“How are you going to stop me? I told you this morning. If you don’t let me in, I’ll wait. I’ll make sure you go to water aerobics. I’ll keep track of your workouts and we’ll make sure you get better. I’ll turn the full force of my anxiety fueled organizational skills on you, dude. I’ll fucking do it.” He punctuates the words by jabbing his finger into Adam’s chest, trying not to think about the hard muscle he finds there.

“Justin,” Adam says, a warning. He bats Justin’s hand away.

“You said we were friends. This is how I treat my friends.” Justin’s voice breaks but he doesn’t turn away. He holds Adam gaze and catches the motion of his hands jerking towards him, like Adam wants to reach out but decides against it at the last minute. He makes the decision for the both of them, stretching out his arm until his hand settles on Adam’s chest. Adam doesn’t move. Justin takes a small step forward and speaks into the hushed space between them.

“I’m going to help because I’ll go crazy if I don’t. I’ll fucking lose it. I need this and you need me and we both need us.” Justin knows he sounds desperate, but he can’t bring himself to care. He knows they look strange, huddled together in the quad, but he can’t bring himself to care about that, either. He cares about Adam, he realizes, the thought crystallizing with startling clarity. He’s been dealing with his crush for months now and Adam’s somehow become the closest friend he’s ever had, but he hadn’t understood the depth of his feelings until this second. It’s not a crush on his favorite player anymore; it’s something new, something small and little bit terrifying and wonderful and real and he can’t do a fucking thing about it.

Adam’s gazing down at him, looking more worn than Justin’s ever seen him. Justin’s hand rises and falls as Adam takes a deep breath and slowly lets it go. “There can’t be an us, not when I want to coach and you want to play. It’s not just that I could get fired, Justin.” At the sound of his name Justin’s hand closes around the fabric of Adam’s pullover, tightening into a fist. Their eyes are still locked but Adam raises his hand and brushes his fingers over the delicate tendons and sinews in Justin’s wrist. His fingers are still warm despite the fall chill and Justin loosens his grip, slumping forward. “I can’t,” Adam continues, slipping his hand under Justin’s to twine their fingers together again. “I can’t stand the thought of someone thinking that you’re first line because of how I feel about you. I don’t want your accomplishments to be fucked up because I’m involved, and I - we both need this team. I’m not going to let someone take hockey away from you.”

It’s not just about the sport, Justin knows. It’s not the skates or the stick or even the rink. It’s the team, the friendships, the community that they both would be lost without. Justin’s had Samwell Men’s Hockey for years but Adam’s only recently found them, and he can’t stomach the thought of Adam losing them so quickly. They both need the team.

Justin sucks in a breath; the New England fall air is cool in his lungs. It’s comforting, and it would feel like home if the air carried a sharper chill. “Whatever you’re doing, Adam, it’s not working. Can you at least think about it?” He asks softly, and Adam ducks his head. They’re so close, now, foreheads almost touching now that the two inches separating them have vanished.

“I’ll think about it.” Adam says, and Justin’s shoulders fall slack in relief. It’s not a yes but it’s not a no and that’s all Justin needs.

“All right.” He says, and Adam carefully untangles their fingers before turning to walk away. Justin watches him walk away, back straight against the strong wind, steps sure even on the wet grass. The distance between them multiplies again and again but Justin’s chest swells with hope.

He’ll think about it.

It’s Friday afternoon and Adam’s spent most of the day in a thick fog. He’d had an appointment with his physical therapist that morning, and he’d heard the news he’d been waiting for since June: he can finally skate again.

Instead of being relieved he’d been terrified and he’d wandered back to his apartment in a daze that had taken him hours to shake off. Now, though, he has to face the task he’s been putting off since he first moved to Samwell. He has an hour booked at Faber tomorrow morning but he doesn’t know where his skates are, other than the fact that they’re somewhere in the boxes he hasn’t been able to face yet.

Adam takes a fortifying breath and opens the door, gripping the handle far tighter than necessary. The room is brighter than he’d expected, light streaming in from the windows across from him. It’s a nice room; he should really use it for more than procrastination. Adam leaves the door open behind him - it feels important to have an escape route - and wanders over to the only open box.

He’d attempted to unpack everything once he’d graduated to walking without a cane a few weeks after he’d moved in but one look at the familiar jersey carefully folded at the top of the first box he’d opened had sent him reeling. He’d gone straight to bed, only leaving a day and half later to drag himself to a physical therapy appointment.

Today, he’s going to do everything he can to prevent that same outcome. He has the Hairspray soundtrack playing from his laptop, a ten hour playlist of his favorite episodes of various tv shows queued up just in case, and he knows for a fact his mother is going to call him tomorrow morning in case he winds up in bed for another few days. All he has to do is find the box with his skates. Simple enough.

Three hours later Adam’s sprawled on the hardwood floors, plastic lids and balls of clear packing tape strewn around him. The majority of the boxes have been opened, the contents piled around his prone form. He’s watching Tracy Jordan describe his hilariously traumatic past for the second time in a row, hoping that watching it again will be the kick in the ass he needs to at least sit up. His phone has been buzzing consistently for the past thirty minutes but rolling over to grab it seems like a gargantuan task, one he’s not prepared to face anytime soon.

“I once saw a baby give another baby a tattoo,” He quotes, still tracking along with the episode even though his eyes are closed. He lays there, quoting the rest of the episode on and off until there’s a sudden banging sound coming from the other side of his apartment. The shock of the sudden sound is enough to jolt him into a sitting position. It’s the door, he realizes suddenly, and it’s only the mental image of Justin standing on the other side that pulls him to his feet.

The knocking continues as he drags himself down the hall, breaking into familiar rhythmic bursts by the time he reaches the living room. When he finally reaches the door he’s had to suffer through four shave-and-a-haircuts but he manages to pull the door open before another can begin. He steps back in surprise when he sees who’s on the other side of the door.

Beth’s drawn up to her full height of five feet and four inches and she’s got a cardboard coffee cup in each hand. There’s a red spot on her forehead, and Adam realizes she’d been literally banging her head against the door instead of knocking with her hand. She glares up at him as she sweeps into the apartment, brushing past him easily. Beth hands him the two cups and toes off her shoes and by the time he realizes what he’s holding she’s on the other side of the room.

“What do I always say, Adam?” She asks, voice brusque. Beth walks around his apartment, inspecting each and every item in his living room. Adam lingers by the open door, trying to make sense of what’s going on.

“Gosh, Tabitha looks great today?” He tries.

“Not that, the other thing.” She stop in front of his bookshelf, running her fingertips over the titles to examine them quickly. She pulls one book out, then another, and the next thing Adam knows she’s rearranging the titles by subject and author. Adam uses his shoulder to close the door as he thinks.

“Do no harm, but take no shit?” He says before setting the cups down on his kitchen table. Beth nods and plucks his copy of Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? (and Other Concerns) from the shelf, flipping through the pages idly before tucking it into her purse.

“There it is. This is me taking no shit.” She points at him with one hand, picking up one of his game pucks in the other. Beth examines it for a moment before setting it back, and quickly arranges the rest of the pucks into a stacked pyramid.

“Did someone give you shit?” Adam asks, no closer to making heads or tails of Beth’s cryptic hints as he watches her arrange his memories into a more aesthetically pleasing form.

“You did. You stood me up!” Beth points at him and he takes a step back, worried for his safety despite the fact that she’s sixty three and fifteen feet away from him.

“Beth, we didn’t have plans to meet today,” He says slowly, worried for the first time that she’s misplaced some information. She turns to face him, hands on her hips.

“Don’t you dare use that ‘I’m talking to an old lady’ voice on me, Birkholtz.” She snaps, and crosses the room much faster than he’d ever thought possible. Water aerobics is seriously working for her. “I’m sixty three years younger than you’ll ever be. You stood me up emotionally, and I will not have it.”

“I’m really, really lost, and I’m having the shittiest day, so can you please explain everything from the beginning? Slowly?” He pleads, sinking into Justin’s chair. Well - the chair he always uses when he comes over to study. It’s just a chair.

Beth eyes him warily. “I saw you and Justin on the quad yesterday. They occasionally let the librarians leave the library, you know.” His face falls and he gestures to the seat across from him, and takes a long sip of his tea in preparation.

The entire story pours out of him. He tells her everything, from seeing Justin at the first practice of the year to trying to find his skates earlier that morning, months of tension and pining and awkwardness and belonging all spilling out in a long, unruly narrative. He tries to explain gaining a team and what that means to him and spends far, far too much time describing Justin’s first goal of the season but he manages to tell her everything before he finishes his cup of tea. It’s cold by the time he takes his last sip and he drops the cup down on the table with a sigh, slouching in his chair. Beth’s been mostly silent, aside from appropriate laughter or oohing and ahhing, and she’s had both her hands wrapped around his since he explained Hazeapalooza.

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” Beth says, giving his hand a firm squeeze. “We’re going to hug for a very, very long time. Then I’m going to find your skates and you’re going to ask Justin to help you when you practice tomorrow. It’s okay to let him help you.” Adam opens his mouth to protest, mostly out of habit, but she raises one unimpressed eyebrow and he stops in his tracks.

“I’ll find my phone.” He agrees, and when they stand he has to hunch over so her arms can wrap around his shoulders but she rubs his back and holds him tight and he feels better than he has in days.

Justin’s in the dining hall when his phone buzzes in his pocket. He digs for it with one hand, the other occupied with a chicken tender, expecting a text from Bitty about Betsy’s slow decline or a snap from Wicky but his eyebrows raise in surprise when he sees the familiar string of emojis. He drops the tender and wipes the grease off his fingers before unlocking his phone.

Adam [Honey Pot Emoji][Arm Emoji][Sparkle Emoji]: I need a water aerobics tutor but I don’t have Tabitha’s number. Know anyone who can help? Me: i might Adam [Honey Pot Emoji][Arm Emoji][Sparkle Emoji]: Cool, thanks. Adam [Honey Pot Emoji][Arm Emoji][Sparkle Emoji]: P.S. It’s technically on ice instead of in water. But they’re the same thing because #science. Adam [Honey Pot Emoji][Arm Emoji][Sparkle Emoji]: P.P.S. It’s also not so much “aerobics” as “skating” but whatever. Me: ur cleared to skate?? Adam [Honey Pot Emoji][Arm Emoji][Sparkle Emoji]: Yeah.

Justin’s about to respond when the little ellipses pops up; Adam’s typing. He waits but the three little dots flash up at him, appearing and disappearing in their coded cycle for what feels like hours until -

Adam [Honey Pot Emoji][Arm Emoji][Sparkle Emoji]: Will you help me? Me: of course Adam [Honey Pot Emoji][Arm Emoji][Sparkle Emoji]: Faber, 8:30, tomorrow morning. Me: see u then Me: u do kno that ice and water have differences tho right. they have different molecular structures and shit Adam [Honey Pot Emoji][Arm Emoji][Sparkle Emoji]:  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Me: why are u like this

They text on and off throughout the rest of the evening. Justin’s not sure why Adam’s suddenly onboard but he’s not going to fight it. He’s watched Adam’s carefully constructed professional boundaries come down in stages and at this pace, maybe someday soon they’ll -

Justin shakes the thought away. Adam needs someone to make sure he doesn’t fall and hurt himself again, not a fan-turned-water aerobics instructor-turned-friend who’s already 63.2397% in love with him.

It feels good to admit it to himself, even if it’s just something he mumbles to the empty bunk above him.

The next morning Justin meets Adam on the bench after running into Bitty and Jack in the locker room. He hadn’t realized they were still doing those checking practices but they were both smiling and Bitty hasn’t goat-fainted since early in the season. Justin can see the progress in the way Bitty sings under his breath as he puts his pads away and the soft upwards curve of Jack’s lips.

He takes a seat next to Adam, who’s bent over as he tightens his laces. Justin pretends not to notice his shaking hands.

“Pretty good morning for ice aerobics, don’t you think?” He asks, tone light as he sways gently to bump their shoulders together. Adam makes a little half-laugh, more of a quick burst of air than anything else.

“Good as any,” Adam replies, finally sitting up. He rubs his hand over his knee, a nervous habit Justin’s come to recognize. Justin pats his shoulder and stands, clearing the distance to the ice in one step. He glides a short distance and turns, then turns again, just getting accustomed to the feeling of ice beneath his blades. When he glances back at the bench Adam’s watching him. He’s smiling but he looks – not quite sad and not quite hopeful. Melancholic, Justin’s standardized test vocabulary reservoir supplies.

“Hey, man. You’ll be doing this in no time.” Justin knows his phrasing is a little off, but it’s worth it to see Adam’s eyebrows rise in surprise before he smiles. The expression is still tight around the edges and fades altogether when Adam stands and makes his way to the ice, but Justin’s proud he managed to relax Adam for at least a moment. He skates back over to the boards and offers Adam both his hands, his back facing the rink. Adam takes his hands in a too-tight grip and steps onto the ice, limbs stiff with tension. They glide back, both of them staring at Adam’s feet, until Justin stops them.

“How’s it feel?” Justin asks, absently running his thumbs along Adam’s knuckles in an attempt to relax him; his grip on Justin’s hands is painfully tight.

“Terrifying.” Adam says automatically. He bends his knees experimentally, eyebrows knitted together in a look of intense concentration. “Knee’s fine, though.” He adds. He lets out a long, relieved sigh and finally tears his eyes away from his feet. The anchors of his lips rise in a tiny, hopeful smile and Justin’s 63.237% rounds up to an even 65.000%.

It’s a long, painstaking hour. It takes Adam a while to get out of his own head and Justin’s on edge from start to finish, determined to keep him safe. There are a few close calls - Adam’s momentum carries him further than he expects more than once and he ends up in Justin’s arms - but halfway through the hour Adam finally begins to relax. Justin can see that it’s not his body that’s holding him back anymore, and he’ll keep as close as he can until Adam’s mind catches up.

They’re practicing stopping and Justin’s pressed up against Adam’s back, hands firmly on his hips to make sure he’s steady. Adam’s leading but Justin’s gently guiding him, helping his muscles remember what to do. They’ve been going back and forth, sending up small bursts of ice as they turn their skates to stop, when Adam turns suddenly, rotating in Justin’s arms. They’re pressed close together, chests touching, and Justin couldn’t look away if he tried.

“Hour’s up,” Adam says, cheeks pink above his neatly trimmed beard. His eyes are startlingly blue on the ice.

“Yeah,” Justin agrees, breathless. The immeasurable distance that always looms between them shrinks, disappearing with every breath.

Adam places a hand on his chest, mirroring exactly how they’d stood in the quad earlier that week. Instead of a fall wind and wet grass there’s an artificial breeze and hard ice but the distance between them shrinks again. Adam’s ducking his head, blue eyes level with Justin’s brown. The corners of Adam’s mouth twitch and then he’s suddenly moving backwards, having pushed himself back with the hand on Justin’s chest. The small smile become a full blown grin as he glides away and eventually turns to skate back to the bench without any assistance. Justin laughs, pride and joy bubbling up so fiercely it has to escape the confines of his ribcage in an uninhibited burst. The sound echoes around Faber, bouncing off the walls and ceiling until it fades, slipping beneath the hum of the rink.

65.000% jumps up to 66.000%, then 70.000%, then 74.000%, rising steadily with each beat of his heart. Later that evening, hours after they’d trudged off the ice, Justin can still feel the warm weight of Adam’s hand over his heart.

[evilsnowswan]

Summary: [Rumbelle Mermaid!AU] based on this prompt by repeatinglitanies: “In a world where people are aware of the existence of mermaids, Belle is a mermaid who lives in the world’s largest aquarium along with other sea creatures. She enjoys looking at the little humans who come to visit, especially a floofy haired boy who comes every week with his father….” An injured Belle is captured and brought to Gold and Milah’s aquarium. Gold is a marine biologist dedicated to protecting the creatures there, Milah wants to turn a profit, and their son has his own ideas about how to befriend a mermaid.

Rating: G/Teen Link to full story: [Read on AO3] Previous Chapters: [Coverart][Chapter 1][Chapter 2][Chapter 3][Chapter 4][Chapter 5][Chapter 6][Chapter 7][Chapter 8][Chapter 9][Chapter 10][Chapter 11]

Current Chapter: 12/? Chapter Summary: A new development

This is a short one, but it needed to stand on its own. ;)

Chapter 12

Dolphin Assisted Therapy proved to be a great success. Not only did her sessions with Chipper improve Indigo’s strength and agility, they also helped buoy her mood and lifted her spirits. She was more alert and cooperative, eagerly awaiting her daily trip to the outside pool each morning.

Gold had exchanged her stretcher for a wheelbarrow. It made the ride easier, and he didn’t need Miss Lucas or anyone else to assist them to get going. Indigo could easily lower herself down into the barrow from the pool hoist, and, as the barrow provided enough support for his bad ankle when he walked as well, he could push her the entire way to the pool without his cane.

Ever since therapy sessions had started, they had adapted Indigo’s schedule and her wardrobe accordingly. Her pale skin was sensitive, so she always wore a bathrobe when in transit and, after initial protest, would allow sunscreen to be applied to her face, ears, neck, torso, and arms. He used the strongest lotion - suitable for surfers and swimmers - that didn’t come off the second skin met water, and always applied copious amounts - which left a white sticky film on her, but sufficiently protected Indigo from getting sunburn for about at least half an hour.

After the first few trips, their gear had grown to not only include sunscreen, Indigo’s cup, and the flashcards, but also a selection of pool toys and a pair of orange floaties, and Gold wondered if, at the rate they were going, he might need a changing bag soon.

Today, he and Indigo had spent a wonderfully cool and calm morning in the medical wing, eating breakfast and doing physio, before he decided it was time to head out into the late summer heat of the grounds again.

Just when he was about to get the dolphin card, however, and put it up on the board, the phone rang; and when he returned to Indigo in her holding pool a little while later, Gold’s mood had shifted.

“That, sweetheart, was the nice doctor,” he told her, picking up her empty cup from the side of the pool and carrying it over to the sink to rinse. “Apparently, you need swimming lessons.”

She looked at him quizzically.

He took a brush to the inside of the cup, shook his head, and scrubbed. “And there I was thinking… never mind.”

A loud splashing noise had him turn, and he couldn’t help but laugh at Indigo, who, seemingly tired of waiting, fussed with the pool ladder, trying to figure out a way to use it.

“And what, little Miss Impatient, are you doing? Hmm? If you don’t mind me asking.”

She didn’t mind. In fact, she minded so little that she completely ignored him.

Pink tongue peeping out between her lips and brows furrowed in concentration, she used her arms to hoist herself up and climbed the narrow steps one by one, travelling up and out of the water backwards on her bum; nearly losing her balance and toppling over in the attempt to maneuver her heavy tail.

Again, she reminded him of Bae; Bae as a wee one, tackling a flight of stairs on his nappy-padded backside; but Indigo was neither a child - nor was she supposed to leave the holding pool on her own. What if she got stuck somewhere in the lab with no one around to help? What if she hurt herself or didn't make it back into the water on time? He couldn’t risk any more injuries. Or the life threatening dehydration.

“Now, wait just one minute!”

Lying on her back on the slippery tiles, Indigo grinned up at him as he leaned over her, droplets of water clinging to her dark eyelashes and glossy lips. Winded after the unsuitable exercise, her cheeks were colored and her chest rose and fell rapidly. Even so, she managed to look rather pleased with herself.

“And what’s this supposed to be, hmm?” He put his hands on his hips; told her ‘no’ in sign language, using the fingers on his right hand.

But fixing her with his sternest, most disapproving gaze had absolutely no effect. Indigo just laughed her charming quiet little laugh. It made him ridiculously aware of how pretty her face was: a hint of dimples, a cute buttoned nose - even when scrunched in amusement - and big round eyes so deep, for the first time in his life, he felt a fear of drowning.

Indigo stuck her tongue out at him, the moment passed, and the knot in his belly unravelled. He followed her outstretched arm and pointing finger to the magnet board.

There was no laminated picture card there, but Indigo made an unmistakable flowing motion in the air with her hands - mermaid and dolphin? - huffed soundlessly, and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Ah, I see.” Gold chortled. “Your Grace deems it high time for her lunchtime stroll in the dolphin pool, is that it? Well, I’m sorry, but that will have to wait just a little bit longer….”

He nodded towards the holding pool, waited.

She narrowed her eyes, glared back unblinking, and shook her head once but with decision.

“Please, sweetheart. Be a good little merm-”

Indigo rolled over onto her belly and, wriggling her tail from side to side on the floor like a snake or lizard might, propelled herself forward with such an unexpected swiftness that it caught him completely off guard.

Gold sucked his teeth and cussed under his breath. “No. No, no. Absolutely not.” Hurrying to block her path, he crouched down with a grimace and held her back by the shoulders. “That’s exactly what the doctor said not to do.”

He scrambled to sign his concern and disapproval - somehow, clumsily, and also, unnecessarily, as Indigo seemed to understand just fine. She just didn't agree with him.

“I’m sorry. Argh… look. How do I… let me try and explain, at least?”

She blinked up at him. Pouted.

The thing was, he had no idea how to explain anything to her; how to get her on the same page.

Truth be told, he wasn’t sure he had grasped the issue in its entirety himself just yet, the unpleasant conversation with the veterinarian still fresh in his mind and swirling around his brain in never ending circles without leaving the slightest trace of meaning behind.

Until this morning; until only a matter of maybe twenty minutes ago, in fact, everything had seemed to be going perfectly fine; seemed to be going according to plan. He had felt hopeful. Indigo was recovering, rebuilding and regaining strength and confidence. Looking at her now, on the floor of the med wing, her tail swishing cat-like across the white tiles, all he could do was to avert his eyes and give a sigh, pulling a plastic chair closer and sitting down on it.

He put his palms together and copied her movements with his hands, shaking his head firmly. “You need to stop doing that,” he told her. “It feels easier… ay? I get it.” He ran a hand over his mouth. “But it’s going to hurt you, sweetheart.”

Had there been any chance of helping them both understand better, he would have pulled up her latest x-rays and shown them to her on the large projector screen on the wall.

According to Dr Whale, there was a bulge now where there shouldn’t have been; enlarged muscles in the wrong places pulling on her vertebrae and causing damage to it, endangering her spinal cord - and thus, her life.

What exactly had he said on the phone again?

“See this bulge right there? It’s from swimming. She’s just like a dolphin, man. Spinal cord's exactly like ours, right? It's controlling everything. It's controlling her breathing, her heartbeat, movement. You get the picture. Irreversible damage to that and-”

At this point, the man had made an obscene noise and the corresponding gesture had entered Gold’s mind unbidden, so he had turned his face and held the receiver away from his ear in disgust, but it had already been burned into his memory; and the message was crystal clear. He could still hear it ringing in his ears.

“So you're saying swimming like that's gonna kill her?” he had asked, already knowing the answer but hoping for a different one.

“That’s exactly right.” The weird glee in Whale’s voice had made Gold shudder. Slightly unorthodox, but brilliant vet that he was, Dr Whale had always had a rather morbid outlook on, and attitude towards, life, which - given his excellent work performance - they generously overlooked and usually put down to professional curiosity. The man just liked to cut things open and study them. That was all.

But, for as long as Gold lived, he would not get his hands on a mermaid corpse to dissect. Not in this lifetime or the next. Whale would get to Indigo over Gold’s own dead body only.

“Sorry, boss,” Whale had added after an uncomfortable pause. “Her… anatomy… it’s… well, fascinating.”

“Anything we can do, doc?”

They had ended the call on a less than enthusiastic suggestion from Whale to give Indigo some exercises to try to improve her swimming; to correct her posture mistakes before the pattern got fixed in her body and became permanent. Only, he had seemed at a loss about how to best go about doing it, claiming that, with all due respect, live fish training and studies was more of Golds domain than his. He would, however, ask around his circles, though. See if any of his many acquaintances would come up with something to help them. Until then, Gold and Indigo were on their own.

Gold pointed at Indigo’s twitching tail. “Up and down. It is meant to flex up and down. It's not supposed to go side to side.”

Indigo cocked her head and knitted her brow. Studying his hands, her eyes darted back and forth between them and his lips while he spoke and gestured.

“You know that, right? Oh… what do we do, love? What do we do?”

Indigo at least seemed to have an answer to that. Her face set and lips pursed, she pointed first at the board, then made her hands swim again, and then nodded towards the large wall clock.

She couldn’t tell the time, could she? Yes, she knew how to count, but surely, her concept of time was nothing like a human’s?

“Outside, yes.” Dismayed, Gold dragged a hand across his face. “You want to see Chipper. Aye. I understand.”

He sat and thought for a moment.

No use burying one's head in the sand, was there? He was no marine-life vet, no college-certified marine biologist, and he didn’t have a trainer’s eye, but Gold had one thing going for him: his gut feeling. When push came to shove, his instincts had yet to fail him, and right now, they were telling him to get some air and a clearer picture to tackle the problem from the best possible angle.

“Okay.” He got up and walked around her to get the wheelbarrow out of parking - they ‘parked’ it beneath one of the long desks. “Outside it is then.” He gestured toward the holding pool and pool hoist. “M’lady, if you please?”

Indigo’s face lit up.

[scootoaster]

Your bones do more than you give them credit for

Dem bones do plenty. (DepositPhoto/)

For February, we’re focusing on the body parts that shape us, oxygenate us, and power us as we take long walks on the beach. Bony bonafide bones. These skeletal building blocks inspire curiosity and spark fear in different folks—we hope our stories, covering everything from surgeries and supplements to good old-fashioned boning, will only do the first. Once you’ve thoroughly blasted your mind with bone facts, check out our previous themed months: muscle and fat.

Spooky, scary: Halloween has given skeletons a bad rap. (It’s also given you a really inaccurate idea of what your skeleton looks like, but that’s another story.) A healthy set of bones is nothing to be afraid of—in fact, it’s essential to keeping your body running smoothly, and not just because it holds all your squishier bits upright.

Although bones look static when preserved in a museum or modeled in a classroom, bone in your body is just as alive as your lungs, liver, or kidneys. It’s made up of hard, heavy outside tissue, known as “compact tissue”, which surrounds spongy “cancellous” tissue and liquidey bone marrow. The whole system is fed by a network of veins and arteries that carry in oxygen and energy and carry out waste and the substances produced in the bones. Surrounding the compact bone is the periosteum, a fibrous membrane that helps repair and grow the bones. The only places not covered by the periosteum are where cartilage surrounds the bone, as in joints, or where ligaments and tendons attach, connecting the bone to muscles. It’s a complicated system that isn’t really captured by the dried-out compact and cancellous tissue that remains in a dead skeleton.

Over the course of your life, your bones will fuse together, endure trauma, change shape, and keep you moving—all while their tissue is constantly remodeled and replaced. Bone is a “living organ,” says Luiz Bertassoni, an associate professor of dentistry and biomedical engineering at Oregon Health and Science University. “Like any other living organ, you have a humongous amount of interactions and complexity that goes into keeping it alive and functioning well.”

What does bone do?

Until pretty recently, what scientists knew about skeletons came from gross anatomy, says science writer Riley Black, author of Skeleton Keys: The Secret Life of Bone. (That’s anatomy we can observe with our eyes, not anatomy that’s disgusting, though your results may vary.) Historically, bone’s functions in protecting vital organs and holding people up were well-known, and its relationships to things like the muscles—to which bone connects—were also recognized.

Galen of Pergamon, a Greek doctor who lived during the first century, wrote that bones “sustain and support the other elements of the body as a foundation, for everything is secured and attached to the bones.” He wasn’t totally wrong in this—although bones can’t move in their own right, the skeletal system is an essential part of human movement, because it provides the anchor against which muscles, ligaments, and tendons can work their push-pull magic.

But there’s a lot going on with bones that you can’t see just by cutting open a cadaver. In addition to providing structure and physical protection, bone “also regulates a wide variety of biological phenomena in the body,” says Bertassoni. “Everything is actually embedded within the hard tissue that you see.”

Our understanding of the skeleton’s many roles has expanded a lot thanks to evolving imaging technologies, Black says. They allowed scientists over the past 125 years to see inside living bodies and watch bone in action. The first glimpse at living bones in situ came in 1895, when X-ray inventor Wilhelm Rontgen took a picture of his wife Anna Bertha Ludwig’s hand bones. (History did not record what Ludwig thought about seeing her own hand, complete with wedding ring.)

It’s thought that the reason humans and other animals evolved internal bones in the first place is related to protection, a theory that’s bolstered by recent research into bone function. Some of your bones (think skull and ribs, for example) still act to encase your soft bits. But your bones also protect the squishy marrow inside of them, which is essential for producing blood. Bone marrow contains special stem cells that churn out both red and white blood cells, which bring oxygen to all of your body’s tissues and fight off sickening microbial invaders. We’ve known about this function since the 1950s.

This part of bone also stores minerals until your body needs them–namely calcium and phosphate. Your muscles and nerves need these minerals to function, but only in very specific quantities. Bone, which stores about 99 percent of the calcium in your body and about 85 percent of the phosphorus, acts as a “bank” from which the rest of you can withdraw these resources when needed.

Research over the past two decades has revealed another surprising role that bone plays: creating and regulating the hormone osteocalcin. A study from 2019 suggests that among its other roles, osteocalcin sparks your fight-or-flight instinct—which makes some sense, if you consider that bones have a big role in your body’s ability to fight or run away.

Osteocalcin, which is the only hormone bone is known to produce, is released by the bones in situations of acute stress. It’s responsible for “turning off” the parasympathetic nervous system, the one we use when things are all copacetic. Then, adrenaline and cortisol (also what I named my fists) step in to get you psyched up for a fight or a flight.

A complicated relationship

When you’re born, you have almost 300 bones, and many of them are still made out of cartilage. This rubbery tissue, which remains an essential part of the skeletal system into adulthood as padding for your joints, makes newborn babies nice and flexible, something they need if they’re going to spend months curled up in a womb and make their way out into the world through a tight birth canal. There are a few exceptions, such as the skull—although even that is made up of multiple pieces at birth, which fuse together in the first few years of life.

As you grow, your bones harden and some of them fuse together. By early adulthood (think about 18 for girls and about 20 for boys), your bone count is down to 206, which is the number of bones you’ll carry with you for the rest of your life. But the system continues to change, in a process called “remodeling.” In this process, small amounts of your existing hard bone are removed and replaced with new bone. “Remodeling repairs the damage to the skeleton that can result from repeated stressed by replacing small cracks or deformities in areas of cell damage,” the National Institute of Health writes. This process also recycles old bone, which can be dangerously brittle, processing the minerals it contains so they can be used by other parts of the body that need them. You pretty much have a new and different skeleton every 10 years because of all this maintenance.

Unique bones

How does your body know what shape your bones should take? Your genes govern the growth and maintenance of your skeleton, just like they do every part of your anatomy. But that skeleton can also be “greatly affected” by what you do, the NIH writes. Studies have found that people who do high-impact exercise or have physical jobs have different bone shapes from the average person, dictated by the kind of physical activity they do. Bone strength is also related to how much physical activity someone gets–as with muscle, the NIH cautions, bones can get weaker if they’re not used enough. Seen this way, the skeleton you end up with is “really a living time capsule of your life and what you’ve been through,” says Black.

There’s a lot more to learn about bones, and new technologies—like the “bone in a dish” Bertassoni and his colleagues developed—are helping researchers do so. This model of bone, which is grown out of the same kinds of cells, replicates the way the hard material is structured and how it plays host to other soft materials, like nerves and blood vessels. In time, the researchers hope it can be used in bone grafts as well as in research.

In building the material, the OHSU researcher says he’s become fascinated by bone’s structure. Look inside, he says, and you’ll see thousands of microscopic structures—tiny holes that allow materials to enter and leave—delicately spaced out to disperse the forces bone is subjected to even as it performs many other functions. The result is “nothing short of a work of art,” he says.

[livingthe24framelife]

The Rise of Sunset Shimmer: Part 2

It was a beautiful morning. Most people would’ve taken the opportunity to go outside. Sunset was not one of those people. 

But the longer she stayed indoors, the more she could hear Celestia’s voice in her head. “Go outside, it’s a wonderful day. Talk to somepony.” Sunset had always hated it when the princess made her go out. As the day wore on, however, her former teacher’s voice seemed to get louder and louder. Sunset was starting to get annoyed. Not being able to take the voice any longer, she gave in and headed out into the streets. There wasn’t anyplace in perticular Sunset wanted to go to, so instead she just figured a nice stroll through town would suffice. Besides, to her, walking was a good workout for her legs and it gave her time to think about everything that had happened lately. It had been a few weeks since first arriving and Sunset was starting to feel more comfortable in her new life and skin. She learned how to dress and take baths in the human way, which gave her the chance to see what the rest of her new body looked like (and had practically traumatized her) and started to get a feel for how humans acted. Although she still lived at the motel, she had gotten a job as a waitress at a Japanese-themed restaurant located in a nearby mall. Sunset had vaguely remembered hearing about Japan from a book on world countries she'd got from the library. Seeing the culture up close was something she thought was quite interesting. Her wish was to get enough cash to buy her own place. Soon afterwards she had made enough money to not only get “sleeping clothes” or pajamas as they were called, but she also was able to buy a used phone via the local thrift store. The next day was spent trying to learn how to use it, which was not easy for someone who didn't even know technology like this existed. But as she had done before, Sunset persevered and finally got the basics down. Once she'd learned how to use a phone, the first thing she did with it was to look up anatomy. Sunset wanted to learn about the human body so she'd know the proper vocabulary. After that she used it to get answers to every question she had about this new world. Soon it got to a point where Sunset saw herself as an expert on human life. A feat she was quite proud of. 

“If Celestia could see me now..” she thought with a tiny smirk on her face.

A couple minutes into her stroll, Sunset started to feel tired. Soon she found herself sitting on a park bench by the school. She just wanted to sit back and relax for a little bit. To pass the time she took out the notepad she'd brought with her and began to doodle. Like walking, she saw doing this as an exercise for her hands and fingers. Even though her motor skills had improved in leaps and bounds since her first night as a human she still felt like working on it a bit more. Her artworks weren't masterpieces by any means, but they weren't bad either. She sketched out drawings of the scenery of her new home and creatures from her old one as well. Like the sirens, which a book she just borrowed had reminded her of. The Little Mermaid. It was an interesting read. Short but interesting. Sunset found that she identified with the main character. At least the becoming human part. However, she considered the mermaid lucky. It's one thing to just get legs. It's a whole other thing when you get a completely new body to boot. The one thing Sunset wasn't keen about was the ending. “What kind of story ends on such a sad note like that?” she pondered. Drawing photos of sirens caused Sunset to recall how her mother would read her a new folk tale, myth or legend to her every night before bed. Suddenly she stopped moving the pen.

Her mother...

It wasn't until then that Sunset noticed that she hadn't given her parents a single thought for...who knows how long. Long before she left the pony world, that was certain. They’d become strangers to her ever since she moved to Canterlot to go to the school for unicorns. Sure, she'd written a response to a letter or two at first, but as time went on, she became more engrossed in her studies. Especially after becoming Celestia’s protege. Sunset’s train of thought was impeded by the sound of a bell going off. Her head perked up as she saw kids leaving the high school. Teens in boatloads were either hopping on buses or just interacting with each other around the campus grounds. As Sunset watched, an idea formed in her mind. Back in Equestria, she would've been considered an adult. But in this world she looked to be exactly the same age as those students. If she wanted to truly assimilate into human society, the best way to go about it would be to go to school. Eager to get started Sunset got off the bench and headed to the motel to put her plan into action. 

Sunset was regretting this plan. Well, almost. It had been a day since she had gotten her idea to become a student at Canterlot High. She had to go to the library again to get the application form since her motel room didn't come with a printer. Now she was sitting in the school office along with none other than Princess Celestia. Or rather, her human counterpart Principal Celestia. Sunset had just about had a heart attack when she first saw her former teacher. Instead of racing out of the room and never coming near that school again, she just tried to play it cool. One other thing that made Sunset’s jaw almost hit the floor was that not only was Celestia at the school, but Princess Luna-or in this world Vice Principal Luna-was there too. Sunset had seen her out in the main office talking with a secretary. She remembered hearing about Luna from Celestia. How she felt so guilty over everything that happened between them. The whole story made Sunset feel bad for the princess. Now she couldn't care less. If she was honest with herself, the more Sunset sat there looking at Celestia the more her shock turned to anger. If she had her way, she'd use magic to freeze that woman in place and rant about how much she hated her. Counterpart or not. 

“Well Sunset, it seems like everything’s in order.” Celestia said looking over the form. Sunset internally breathed a sigh of relief. Forging her parents’ signatures had worked. Turns out Celestia was as foolish in this world as she was in the other one. “One question though.” The principal wondered out loud. "Why are your parents not here?” Sunset panicked. “Think of an answer, think of an answer!” she yelled to her brain. And suddenly, she had one. “I come from a town that's pretty far away from here. My parents heard about how good this school was and they figured that I'm old enough to live on my own.” Sunset explained. She nervously waited for a response. "Very well then.” Celestia said, breaking the silence. "You'll start two days from now.” Minutes later Sunset was outside the school trying to get a grip on her bearings and process what just happened. “Okay Sunset you can do this. If you're lucky you won't see her too much and everything will be fine. Just like with your magic, sacrifices have to be made.” Her mind now at ease, Sunset started to walk home preparing herself for her first day at a human school. 

That evening, Sunset was sitting up in bed staring at her notebook. The page she was on concerned a to-do list. Some boxes had been checked, others weren't. She had a gut feeling that couldn't be explained, a sense that there was another reason she wanted to go to school. Something more than just “so she could be like a human.” Something that had to do with her plan to become powerful. Frustrated, Sunset groaned and put away the notebook. Perhaps watching tv would help her relax. She flicked through the channels, not really paying attention. Suddenly Sunset stopped. She'd found something. It was a film called Mean Girls. Looking on, she found herself drawn to the character of Regina George. That girl had everything Sunset had dreamt of for so long. Respect. Others fearing her. Power. Sunset quickly turned off the tv. She didn't care about the movie anymore. She'd found inspiration. Grabbing the notebook, she turned to her list. Right under Get into Canterlot High she wrote: 

Rule the school. 

Sunset slyly grinned. She finally had a plan, and now couldn't wait for her first day in class. Because just like Regina, she was going to make the world burn.

                                                 End of Part 2

[healthnotion]

How to Build a Home Gym on the Cheap

Let me replay you the typical situation you find yourself in every time you go to your commercial gym. You wake up or get home from the office, change into your workout clothes, pack all of the stuff you need (supplements, shoes, protein shaker, etc.) into your gym bag and head out the door. You jump into your car, and, like many living in a crowded urban environment, hit traffic a couple minutes into your commute. You sit, waiting for cars to dissipate so you can accomplish the grand goal you’ve set for yourself of working out. 30 minutes, 4 near collisions, and 2 mental breakdowns later, you arrive at your destination. You warm up while waiting for the guy doing bicep curls in the one and only squat rack in the 20,000 sq. ft. facility studded with endless lines of treadmills and ellipticals. You finally sneak into the rack, perform your squats while fending off that one guy who gives you form advice while proselytizing the benefits of yoga over weightlifting. Finally, you’re done with your session (two hours later) and drive 30 minutes home to eat.

Does that sound familiar?

Now, let me share with you what a typical training session looks like for me and thousands of others who have freed ourselves from the gym membership rat race.

I throw on some shorts — sweatpants and hoodie if it’s cold; no shirt if it’s warm — and head out into my garage. I walk over to my stereo system and put on some soft tunes to get me in the right mindset during my warm-up. Squats are on the menu, so I rack my bar (the bar only I and my friends use that is superior to every bar at the gym I used to pay $70/month to attend) and begin incrementally increasing the load. I’m at my top set, so I turn on some Dave Mustaine, twist the volume knob to 11, and go to work. Around an hour later I conclude the assault on my body, walk 10 feet inside my house to the most anabolic machine in the known universe — the refrigerator — make a protein shake, and reflect on the hard work accomplished.

After reading that, you’re likely thinking to yourself, “Man! That sounds nice, but . . .” “But.” The most detrimental word to any man’s mission. “But I don’t have the money.”

I’m here to help you with that. Today I’ll show you how to build a home gym on a budget, and how it’s easier to afford than you think. By the time we’re done, you’ll be wondering why you didn’t make the switch sooner.

How to Build a Home Gym for Under $1,000: The Effective, But Budget-Friendly Equipment We Recommend Starting With

Without a doubt, a home gym can be expensive to build. In fact, I’ve seen people spend upwards of $50,000 to install a fully decked-out gym in their garage. But, just because some folks decide to spend that much on working out at home, doesn’t mean it’s either necessary or a good idea.

The reality is that it’s possible to create an effective home gym for under $1,000.

You really only need a few essential pieces of equipment to get started. We suggest the following, pretty much regardless of your goal; whether you’re looking to lose weight or gain muscle, you can see success using these items:

Olympic barbell

Squat rack with a pull-up bar

Weight plates (rubber or iron depending on your budget)

Flat bench

Jump rope

There are hundreds of additional pieces of equipment we could recommend, but only after these basics are met.

When it comes to obtaining these foundational pieces of home gym equipment on a budget, you’ll want to buy things that are both effective and provide a variety of different uses. Purchasing on a budget, however, does not mean that you buy cheaply made equipment. Cheaply made equipment will cause less satisfaction, less use, more likelihood for injury, a lower resale value, and a greater chance of having to purchase replacements. Thankfully, due to there being more gym equipment (largely due to the growing garage gym community) being purchased now than at any other time in history, you can get incredibly good equipment at great prices.

Below we break down our specific brand/product recommendations that meet this requirement for being both quality-made and budget-friendly:

Olympic Barbell

The Olympic barbell is the piece of equipment that we recommend being the highest quality piece of equipment in your gym. You will likely use the barbell more than any other piece of equipment, and there are big differences, both in the performance and durability, between a high-quality barbell and the cheap rods of steel that some manufacturers label as barbells.

The barbell we recommend for most people, especially those who focus on the squat, deadlift, bench, and overhead press is the Ohio Power Bar from Rogue Fitness. The OPB features a 29MM, 205K PSI tensile strength shaft with aggressive knurling, a center knurl, powerlifting knurl marks, and a bronze bushing rotation system all for under $300 (as of this writing). All of the aforementioned specifications may sound like gibberish (you can learn more about barbell anatomy and terminology here), but just know that it’s a barbell that can take just about anything you can throw at it, is made in the USA, and comes with a lifetime warranty; this is a barbell that you’ll be able to use your whole life, and maybe even pass down to your grandkids.

If you’d like a bar that is a bit cheaper and features a thinner shaft as well as no center knurl (feels better for front squats and overhead press due to the knurl not scraping your chin) then we suggest the FringeSport Wonder Bar V2. The Wonder Bar V2 is a great, imported barbell that can be purchased and shipped to your door for under $200. The Wonder Bar has a high tensile strength steel, medium-aggressive knurl, bronze bushing rotation system, and a lifetime warranty.

Squat Rack with a Pull-Up Bar Attached

The squat rack is the centerpiece of nearly every home gym. It’s the place where you’ll squat, press, do pull-ups, and a myriad of other exercises. A good squat rack will allow you to feel safe during use, lasts an extremely long time, and, as your bank account increases, will offer various attachments to increase its versatility. Thankfully, most squat racks on the market today can handle whatever weight you can lift now, plus whatever you plan on lifting in the future. Because of this, we don’t feel the need to recommend as high a level of quality as we do for a barbell.

The squat rack we recommend to most people on a budget is the PR-1100 Home Gym Power Rack from Rep Fitness. The PR-1100 features a footprint of 48” x 47.5” with a height of 84”. It has a max weight capacity of 1,000 LB (more than everyone reading this would likely ever dream of lifting), comes with a multi-grip pull-up bar, and has optional attachments like a lat pulldown and dip handles. In addition to the functional elements of the rack, it also comes in an optional red or blue powder coat version that would look good in any home gym. Although you can spend much more on a squat rack, if you’re on a budget, this is a great option that will last you many years, has good resale value, and is priced extremely competitively at under $250.

If you want a squat rack that is sturdier, features thicker steel, and offers a few different attachments, then we suggest either the Rogue R-3 Power Rack or Rep PR-3000 Power Rack.

Weight Plates

Since you now have a barbell and a place to hang the barbell, it’s only logical that you buy things to hang on the barbell. Weight plates come in various sizes, colors, and materials, but for most people, your best bet is to find some iron Olympic plates second-hand, through Craigslist, Facebook Marketplace, yard sales, etc.

If you can’t find a set of weight plates worth the asking price, then there are a few budget-priced options you can order new online. For new iron plates on a budget, we suggest the CAP Barbell Olympic 2-Inch Weight Plates. They’re cheap, accurately sized, weigh close to what they state, and are readily available. Most iron weight plates are cast-iron and come from similar factories overseas, so there is little need for the average home gym owner to spend much more than what the CAP Barbell Plates are priced at.

If you plan to do any Olympic lifts like the snatch or clean and jerk, then we suggest getting bumper plates. Bumper plates can get expensive quick, so we suggest buying just enough to meet your needs for the Olympic lifts and having iron plates for the rest. The best bumper plates we would recommend for those on a budget are the FringeSport Black Bumper Plates. These are made from virgin rubber, have a precise weight accuracy, won’t mess up your foundation or barbell, and can be had for about as affordable a price as bumper plates can.

Flat Bench

Although most people associate a flat bench solely with the bench press, with enough creativity, it can actually end up being a very versatile piece of equipment. I’ve used my flat bench for everything from box squats, box jumps, rows, split squats, and more. A quality flat bench will provide a solid platform, be about 17” from the ground, and have a firm foam pad.

The flat bench we’d recommend for those on a budget is the AmazonBasics Flat Weight Bench. We tested its durability and despite its low price tag (under $50 as of this writing) it stood up to just about everything we threw at it. The AmazonBasics Bench is stable, has a decent vinyl covering, and best of all, won’t break the bank.

Jump Rope

The last piece of equipment we’d recommend for those looking to start a budget home gym is a jump rope. This may sound kind of silly to those that haven’t used a jump rope since elementary school, but a jump rope is a killer conditioning and coordination device that can be used for both long and short duration intervals. In addition to running, sprinting, and jumping, the simple jump rope will provide you with a way to warm up and increase your stamina and endurance.

You can find a jump rope just about anywhere, but if you want to order a cheap jump rope online, something like the Garage Fit PVC Jump Rope works great for most people. We’d suggest avoiding a speed rope and sticking to the thicker PVC ropes as they’re more versatile and easier to learn how to use.

Once you’ve gotten our recommended essentials in place, you can begin expanding your gear selection by adding things like adjustable dumbbells, kettlebells, plyo-boxes, and other pieces of equipment that pique your interest. You may also want to grab a couple horse stall mats from your local farm supply store to protect your foundation.

The suggestion we most often make regarding adding new items to your gym is to start with the essentials, and then set a goal, such as working out four days a week for three months in a row; once you achieve this goal, reward yourself with a new equipment purchase. This increases the likelihood of you completing the goal and gives you a reward that will motivate you to keep up the exercise habit!

The Surprising Affordability of a Home Gym

Here’s how the cost of our recommendations above (using all the cheapest options, and an average number of weight plates needed to start) would shake out (prices are rounded up):

FringeSport Wonder Bar V2: $200

PR-1100 Home Gym Power Rack from Rep Fitness: $240

AmazonBasics Flat Weight Bench: $50

CAP Barbell Olympic 2-Inch Weight Plates: $350

Garage Fit PVC Jump Rope: $8

Total cost: ~$850

As you can see, it’s possible to build a quality, highly effective home gym for less than $1,000. And you can do it for even less if you buy the above equipment used.

While $1,000 might still seem like a lot if you’re looking at that nut altogether, compare that cost to paying for a membership at a commercial gym.

The average cost of a gym membership is $58 a month. (Yes, $10/month gyms exist, but they don’t have power racks — just Smith machines — and are thus far from ideal for effective workouts.)

This means that if you’re currently paying $58 a month for a gym membership, and cancel it to start a home gym, the money you would have spent on monthly dues will have paid off the investment in a little over a year. And after that time, you’ll start saving money month after month.

And that’s just the money a home gym will save you on the membership cost alone. There are other ways that ditching your monthly dues for a home gym will save you money as well.

According to a survey by MyProtein, Americans aged 18 to 65 years old spend an average of $155/month on their health and fitness. This number includes not only gym membership fees, but supplements, clothing and accessories used at the gym, meal plans, and personal trainers.

These are all things that can be avoided when working out at home. Beyond skipping the membership fee, you can wear whatever clothes you’d like because only you and your friends will be the ones in your gym; you don’t need as many supplements because you’re close enough to your fridge that you can eat real food; and the nutrition and training advice you’d receive from a trainer can be replaced by either an online programming/coaching company for much less, or entirely replaced by the large amount of free content online. Not to mention you’ll also be saving on the gas it used to take to drive to the gym!

Hold onto the money you save, or use it to reinvest in adding equipment to your personal gym; even if you go the latter route, you needn’t spend any more than you used to on belonging to a commercial gym.

To sum up: Building a home gym can be done on the cheap, and be more within your reach than you might have thought; within just a couple of years (months for some) worth of what you’re already spending on a gym membership, you can have a home gym that will provide you with both better workouts and greater satisfaction. And the benefits don’t even stop there; by working out at home, you’ll also have more time to do things you’d like, will set a great example for your family, and can have friends work out with you whenever you please, without ever having to worry about running out of guest passes.

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Coop runs Garage Gym Reviews, a website dedicated to helping people start their own home gym though in-depth equipment reviews. In addition to their website, Garage Gym Reviews can be found on YouTube and Instagram.

Related Resources

How to Turn Your Garage Into a Home Gym

The Pros and Cons of Garage vs. Commercial Gyms

How to Build a Weightlifting Platform

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