#frozen shoulder exercise

[roshni99]

जब से फ्रोजन शोल्डर से परेशान हैं? डॉ. खुशबू मत्तू लाएंगी आपके लिए विशेष व्यायाम टिप्स, जो की स्टिफनेस को कम करने और आपकी मोबिलिटी को पुनः प्राप्त करने में मदद करेंगे! 💪✨ 🔍 फ्रोजन शोल्डर एक्सरसाइज़ क्यों? फ्रोजन शोल्डर आपकी दिनचर्या को प्रभावित कर सकता है। डॉ. खुशबू मत्तू के विशेषज्ञ व्यायाम से आपको आराम, लचीलापन और शक्ति वापस करने में मदद मिलेगी। 👩‍⚕️ डॉ. खुशबू मत्तू से मिलिए: वर्षों के अनुभव के साथ, डॉ. खुशबू मत्तू एक प्रमुख फिजिओथेरेपिस्ट हैं जो आंगनवाद के माध्यम से जीवन को सुधारने के लिए समर्पित हैं। उनके सुझाव आपको दर्दमुक्त, सक्रिय जीवन की ओर मार्गदर्शन कर सकते हैं। 🌈 अपने कंट्रोल में लें शोल्डर स्वास्थ्य! 👉 *देखें और सीखें*: डॉ. खुशबू मत्तू के अनन्य व्यायाम शिक्षण का लाभ उठाएं। 📚 *खुद को शिक्षित करें*: फ्रोजन शोल्डर के पीछे विज्ञान को समझें और सार्वभौमिक स्वास्थ्य सुझावों की खोज करें। 🔄 *ज्ञान को बाँटें*: दूसरों को बढ़ावा देकर समृद्धि की ओर बढ़ें। हम शोल्डर के स्वास्थ्य की समृद्धि का समुदाय बना सकते हैं! 🔥 कॉल टू एक्शन: फ्रोजन शोल्डर की सीमाओं से मुक्त होने के लिए तैयार हैं? अब ही डॉ. खुशबू मत्तू के आंदोलन में शामिल हों! 📌 उनके पृष्ठ को नियमित रूप से संपर्क करें: khushboomattoo@raphacure.com 🚀 अभ्यासों में समाहित हों और शोल्डर के मुक्ति की ओर अपनी यात्रा शुरू करें! 💡 **जो इसकी आवश्यकता है, उसे टैग करें! मिलकर, चलिए हम फ्रोजन शोल्डर से मुक्त होकर और गति और शक्ति के जीवन का स्वागत करें। 💪 #शोल्डरस्वास्थ्य #DrMattooकेसाथस्वतंत्रता #शोल्डरमुक्ति" 🌟"व्यावसायिक समर्थन और आवश्यक साधनों के लिए हमारे मोबाइल ऐप को डाउनलोड करें: 📲 Android: http://bit.ly/3JACQOb 🍏 Apple: https://apple.co/3I0QKbe हमारी वेबसाइट: www.raphacure.com यहां से ऐप डाउनलोड करें और अपने व्यावसायिक और स्वास्थ्य आवश्यकताओं का समर्थन प्राप्त करें। एक सुरक्षित और सुचना-पूर्ण अनुभव के लिए हमारे ऐप का उपयोग करें।" frozen shoulder exercises,frozen shoulder treatment,frozen shoulder exercises at home,frozen shoulder exercise,frozen shoulder physiotherapy,shoulder frozen treatment,shoulder pain relief exercises,frozen shoulder recovery,how to treat frozen shoulder,sukoon physical therapy,dr varun wasil,frozen shoulder pain relief,shoulder pain relief,shoulder mobilization techniques,frozen shoulder stretches,swami ramdev,baba ramdev,ramdev,yog guru,yog,yoga

[afternoonblues]

i'm not being completely cruel. yes, i know it may seem like i'm being one but. no. my mother needs to understand that her frozen shoulder cannot stay that way forever unless and until she starts doing some exercises or physical therapy. i understand her leg pain. old age, spine injury. all that usual jazz. but frozen shoulder? now i've had my fair share of that too along with neck becoming so stiff every once in a while from sleeping in a wrong way that it has brought me to tears but i've done exercises to heal myself up. she's just not doing it. she thinks if i keep on massaging her shoulders, her hands and both of her legs, then it will eventually recover.

it will not. it's been months.

and, i've told her multiple times i cannot keep on massaging her every single night. she will not understand my mental capacity right now and i don't expect her too, but to do this shit every night since god knows when for years? i am done. so tonight, no, actually since the morning when she was in a pretty good mood, i've been telling her that i will not be massaging her hand tonight unless and until she starts doing some of those very very very simple exercises (even the neurologist had told her to do the same! when we went in march for her bell's palsy check-up, from which she recovered very quick). she had thought i was joking and that if she lovingly nags me little, i will cave in.

i didn't cave in because i'm a person who knows my limit and how to keep my word. i've massaged her legs, just the way i do, every single night but i have not touched her arms. she has been coaxing me a lot, fake cries and all that, saying how she will not be able to sleep if i don't massage her arms. she is acting like such a child, it's ridiculous. she is almost gaslighting me too by saying some other things and tbh i don't care. i have told her no matter what happens tonight, i am not doing this. i'm doing this for her own good so that SHE can recover NOT ME. she may stay mad at me for as long as she wants, i will stand my ground.

[monkeymeghan]

I think my physical therapist is trying to kill me. 😂 Seriously, though she’s really happy with all of the progress that I’ve made. She’s added a ton of new, more difficult, things for me this week. I just got home and I am completely wiped out. But I know it’s necessary work to get my range of motion back and to get rid of the pain.

[movefreephysio]

Mat and Reformer Pilates Physiotherapy Singapore: Which Is Right for You?

Title Effective Activity Results for Common Injuries and Pain Conditions in Singapore 

 If you're experiencing pain or discomfort or recovering from an injury. If you are experiencing pain. In Singapore,  numerous individuals turn to activity to manage conditions ranging from sports injuries to habitual pain. With the right treatment plan, cases can recapture strength, improve mobility, and reduce pain significantly. Let’s explore how activity can help with several common conditions. 

 Recover Stronger with Bounce Back with Confidence After an ACL Tear 

 An ACL( anterior cruciate ligament) injury can be debilitating, especially for those who lead active cultures. Whether the injury occurred during sports or an unforeseen twist of the knee, timely intervention is pivotal. ACL rehabilitation physiotherapy in Singapore is designed to guide cases through a structured recovery program, restoring strength and stability to the knee. It frequently includes targeted exercises, balance training, and gradational return-to-sport protocols. A personalized approach ensures the Best outcomes and reduces the risk of re-injury. 

 Relieve Discomfort with Effective Solutions for Everyday Neck Strain 

 Neck pain is a common complaint, especially among those with sedentary jobs or poor posture habits. It can lead to stiffness, tension headaches, and a reduced range of motion. Physiotherapy treatment for neck pain in Singapore addresses the root causes by combining primer remedy, posture correction, and strengthening exercises. Therapists also offer ergonomic advice to help with issues. With harmonious remedy,  numerous cases witness significant improvements in both comfort and function. 

 Ease Your Discomfort by Restoring Strength and Flexibility to Your Elbow Elbow pain can be caused by repetitious strain, inflammation, or unforeseen injury. Whether it’s due to work or recreational conditioning, changing the right treatment early is key. Elbow pain physiotherapy in Singapore focuses on reducing inflammation, restoring inflexibility, and strengthening surrounding muscles. ways may include soft towel release,  common rallies, and remedial exercises. Early activity helps speed up recovery and minimize time-out. 

 Targeted Recovery with Relief for Repetitive Strain Injuries in the Arm Tennis elbow isn't just a problem for athletes. Anyone performing repetitious arm or wrist movements can develop this painful condition. The symptoms include tenderheartedness around the outside of the elbow and difficulty gripping or lifting objects. Physiotherapy for tennis elbow in Singapore generally includes specific strengthening exercises, homemade remedies, and modalities like ultrasound or taping. A gradational and structured recovery plan can help reduce symptoms and prevent a rush. 

 Improve Shoulder Mobility with Improved Shoulder Movement with Gentle Therapy 

 Frozen shoulder, or adhesive capsulitis, can oppressively limit shoulder movement and cause habitual pain. It frequently progresses slowly and can last for months if not treated duly. Frozen shoulder physiotherapy in Singapore focuses on restoring range of motion and reducing pain through targeted exercises and homemade  remedy. Therapists may also use heat, stretching, and strength training to support recovery. With harmonious treatment, cases frequently regain near-normal shoulder function over time. 

 Stay Active with Support Your Joints for an Active Lifestyle

 Knee pain affects people of all ages and can be caused by injuries, overuse, or conditions like arthritis. It can interfere with walking, climbing stairs, and enjoying everyday activities. Knee pain Physiotherapy in Singapore aims to reduce discomfort and strengthen the muscles that support the knee joint. Treatment may include acclimatized exercise programs, gait retraining, and common rallies. With proper care, cases can improve stability and reduce reliance on specific surgical interventions. 

 Final studies 

 Activity is a proven and effective treatment for various musculoskeletal issues. Whether you are dealing with an injury, recovering from surgery, or managing habitual pain, a professional Physio Clinic in Singapore can design a plan that meets your requirements and expectations. In Singapore, activity conventions offer advanced methods and personalized care to help you recover quickly and safely. 

 Still, don’t stay with the pain to make it worse. If you’re struggling with any of the conditions mentioned above. Seek professional help and take the first step toward a pain-free, active life.

Visit Us: https://movefreephysio.com.sg/conditions/elbow-injuries/

[rajmangalhospital]

Understanding Frozen Shoulder: Its Impact on Daily Life and Activities

Shoulder pain treatment in Baner

Frozen shoulder, medically termed adhesive capsulitis, is a debilitating condition characterized by stiffness, pain, and limited range of motion in the shoulder joint. While it might sound like a minor inconvenience, those who suffer from it understand the profound impact it can have on daily life and activities. In this blog, we delve into the intricacies of frozen shoulder, exploring its causes, symptoms, diagnosis, and most importantly, how it disrupts various aspects of daily life. Shoulder pain treatment in Baner

What is a Frozen Shoulder?

A frozen shoulder occurs when the connective tissue surrounding the shoulder joint becomes thickened and tight. This leads to restricted movement and severe pain. While the exact cause is often unknown, certain factors such as injury, surgery, diabetes, or prolonged immobility can increase the risk of developing this condition.

Symptoms of Frozen Shoulder:

The symptoms of a frozen shoulder typically develop gradually, progressing through three distinct stages:

Freezing Stage: In this initial stage, any movement of the shoulder causes pain, and the range of motion gradually becomes limited. Shoulder pain treatment in Baner Frozen Stage: The shoulder stiffness worsens, and the pain may decrease, but the range of motion remains severely restricted. Thawing Stage: During this final stage, the range of motion begins to improve, albeit slowly, and the pain gradually subsides. Shoulder pain treatment in Baner

Impact on Daily Life and Activities:

1. Difficulty with Basic Tasks: Simple activities like getting dressed, reaching for objects on high shelves or even combing one’s hair become arduous tasks. The limited range of motion and persistent pain make these everyday activities a source of frustration and discomfort. Shoulder pain treatment in Baner

Impaired Work Performance:

For individuals whose professions require manual labor or frequent use of their arms, a frozen shoulder can significantly impede work performance. Tasks that involve lifting, carrying, or reaching may become impossible or extremely painful, leading to decreased productivity and potential absenteeism. Shoulder pain treatment in Baner

Disrupted Sleep:

The pain and discomfort associated with a frozen shoulder often worsen at night, making it difficult to find a comfortable sleeping position. Sleep disturbances can further exacerbate fatigue and mood disturbances, impacting overall quality of life. Shoulder pain treatment in Baner

Social Limitations:

Engaging in social activities that involve physical movements, such as sports or dancing, may no longer be feasible for those with frozen shoulders. The fear of exacerbating pain or causing further injury can lead to social withdrawal and feelings of isolation. Shoulder pain treatment in Baner

Emotional Toll:

Living with chronic pain and physical limitations can take a significant emotional toll on individuals with frozen shoulder. Feelings of frustration, helplessness, and depression are common as they struggle to perform even the most basic tasks of daily living.

Coping Strategies:

While coping with a frozen shoulder can be challenging, some strategies can help individuals manage their symptoms and improve their quality of life:

Physical Therapy: Gentle stretching and strengthening exercises prescribed by a physical therapist can help improve flexibility and range of motion in the shoulder joint.

Pain Management: Over-the-counter pain relievers or prescription medications may be recommended to alleviate discomfort associated with a frozen shoulder. Shoulder pain treatment in Baner

Heat and Cold Therapy: Applying heat or cold packs to the affected shoulder can help reduce inflammation and relieve pain.

Activity Modification: Adjusting daily activities to minimize strain on the shoulder joint can help prevent exacerbation of symptoms. Shoulder pain treatment in Baner

Supportive Devices: Using assistive devices such as slings or braces can provide additional support to the shoulder joint and alleviate discomfort.

Seeking Professional Help:

It’s essential for individuals experiencing symptoms of a frozen shoulder to seek prompt medical attention. A healthcare provider can perform a thorough evaluation, make an accurate diagnosis, and develop an individualized treatment plan tailored to the patient’s specific needs. Shoulder pain treatment in Baner

Conclusion:

Frozen shoulder is not just a physical ailment; it’s a condition that can profoundly impact every aspect of daily life. From simple tasks to social interactions, its effects ripple through various facets of existence, causing pain, frustration, and emotional distress. However, with proper management and support, individuals can navigate through the challenges posed by the frozen shoulder and reclaim their quality of life. Remember, seeking professional help and adopting coping strategies are crucial steps toward alleviating the burden of this debilitating condition.

[doctorenzoyeh]

Title: How to Use a Cane to Stretch Your Shoulder

Today I want to show you 3 Simple exercises using a dowel (a stick) to stretch your shoulder. You could also use a cane, a broomstick, a mop, or even an umbrella.

[chenfleur]

melting again

pairing. yang jungwon x y/n ⇝ ft older brother!jake

genre. family by choice au, that one scene from ep 13, fluff, secret relationship

word count. 1.2k

author's note. this drama ended last week and now there is a gaping hole in my chest. i'm trying to get back into writing after a few months and i forgot how hard it is (headinhands) happy december! i hope this month is kind to everyone ♡

masterlist

You’re not exactly sure how long you’ve spent sitting in the fourth floor’s common area, shifting around to find a more comfortable dip in the armchair, uncrossing your legs when the bottom one falls asleep just to cross it over the other. The condensation of your iced coffee dripping down your wrist is a prickly sensation—it demands your attention that, up until now, had been completely focused on burning holes through Yang Jungwon and Jake Sim’s apartment door. 

When the rivulet ends as a small, wet blotch on the sleeve of your blouse, your patience snaps.

There’s a resounding slam of sole against tile as you march up to the door, fingers fumbling with the keypad. “Assholes,” you curse under your breath, impatiently punching in the code you already know by heart. “I reminded them twice yesterday that we’d be having breakfast at Dad’s…”

The door unlocks with a click and a little jingle. Hastily twisting the door handle, you exercise your self-given (and very justified, you’d argue) right to barge into their apartment as if it were your own. 

“Guys!” You slip off your shoes, kicking them to the side. “Where the hell are—”

The obnoxious wave of alcohol that hits your nose makes you stop in your tracks, extinguishing your fuse by forcing you to take in the state of their apartment.

See, your expectations for two twenty-something men living together weren’t high to begin with, but this seemed excessive. The place looks like the morning after a college party, but the fact that you know it was only the two of them last night is what makes it unreasonable.

Random clusters of soju bottles, crumpled beer cans, and half-torn chip bags are strewn all over the place—and there, in all their flushed-face glory, were Jungwon and Jake. Both severely passed out on opposite ends of the couch.

You roll your eyes so hard, they’re practically in the back of your head.

“Jake. Sim. Wake. Up,” you grit out, punctuating each word with a smack to his limp arm. “Seriously, wake up. Did you forget we’re eating with Dad today? Huh?”

Your older brother only groans in his sleep, moving away from your swatting hand and settling back against the couch. There’s a siren in your head urging you to punch him, but you silence it with an irritated sigh.

Then, your eyes fall onto Jungwon. They soften.

Setting your things down, you round the coffee table, kneeling down next to the couch. Your brain is determined to stay annoyed with him for not being ready to leave, but your hand is gentler than you’d hoped for as you shake his shoulder. 

“Jungwon,” you murmur. “Come on, just wake up.”

Not a part of him moves, not even in acknowledgement. A deep sigh leaves your lips as you slowly push yourself up by your knees, about to turn away—but fingers wrap around your wrist, latching on. 

A surprised yelp escapes you as Jungwon tugs you down onto the couch. You fall into place, into the spaces where his body hadn’t already taken up. A sputtered protest is about to leave your lips, one about him being awake the whole time and ignoring you, but it dies on its way out when you feel his arms wrap around your waist. 

Frozen, you blink. It amuses him, based on the way the corners of his lips quirk up ever so slightly. The tip of his nose is cold when it brushes against yours.

“You look pretty,” he mumbles sleepily.

Ten years apart wasn’t enough time for your eyes to learn to handle the sight of Yang Jungwon. They were still so overwhelmed by him—darting everywhere, trying to process his eyes, nose, lips. Trying to process the parts of him that had changed, like his cheeks that are less round than they were when he left for Seoul.

And maybe the fact that the only version of him you remember and truly know is the one from high school—that you had watched him grow up, but not in a way that your insecurity told you actually mattered—is what causes you to fixate on certain things.

Like how his less round cheeks still carry that lingering, rosy tint that you remember. That you try to hold onto.

You strain yourself to harden your gaze. It fails miserably.

“Jungwon, what are you doing?” you whisper urgently. “Jake is right there—”

“He’s asleep,” Jungwon murmurs in response. “Out cold.”

Gaze flitting over to the coffee table, he regards you with a raised brow. “Iced coffee? In winter?”

You glare at him. “What does the temperature of my drinks have to do with the season?”

One of his hands leaves your waist to gently flick your nose, returning to its original post when you open your mouth in protest. “Stupid girl. No wonder you get sick so easily.”

Scoffing, you grumble, “You should go back to Seoul. Piece of shit.” 

You know it’s an empty threat. A miserably thin veil, trying to keep him from looking too closely at the fragment of your heart that physically shakes with fear at the thought of losing him again. Of unknowingly handing him over to a city that doesn’t welcome him. To people who hurt him.

So after the words leave your lips, you curl a little tighter into him. Trying to get his warmth to swallow you and rejuvenate the parts of you that have been aching dully since the day he’d left.

Jungwon watches you through half-lidded eyes the entire time that you’re silent. He carefully takes in the way your fingers grip the fabric of his shirt.

His first instinct is to pry, but he decides that you probably don’t want his first instinct.

“Kiss,” he murmurs instead.

The request catches you off guard, snapping you out of your bleak thoughts. “No,” you purse your lips, trying to push down the small smile that threatens to surface. “No. You’re drunk and you smell.”

“I kiss you when you’re stinky and you won’t do the same?”

“What are you even talking about? I’m never stinky, unlike you right now.”

Jungwon only chuckles, and in the blink of an eye, his lips are on yours in a fleeting kiss. When he pulls away, he’s looking at you again, a pretty smile on his lips at how caught off guard you look.

“You— you can’t just do that—” 

“Says who?” He tilts his head at you with a soft click of his tongue. “Apparently I have a girlfriend who doesn’t know the concept of free will.”

Girlfriend. The idea still makes your head spin. 

You glance over your shoulder to check that Jake is still dead to the world before coming back to Jungwon. “Come on,” you whisper, hand coming up to rest on his hair, twirling a small piece between your fingers. “We’re gonna be late. My dad will get worried and start blowing up my phone again.”

Nodding against the pillow, Jungwon’s cat-like eyes flutter closed again. “Okay.” 

A pause. “Love you.”

Spinning, spinning, spinning.

“Mm,” a coherent part of you manages to hum back. Your lips press a quick, soft kiss to the corner of his eye, not before taking one more precautionary glance at Jake. 

“Love you, Won.”

[neuvilette-tea-party]

˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎ Il faut être deux... Part 1 ❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Steb x F!reader

You get home, excited to visit the Montains like you are sure Steb does each year for his leave! But when you discover your lover, you realize you're going to climb something different...

Tags: Some fish anatomy quirks, established relationship, heavy making out, pining, sexual tension, caresses, mating season (yeah, I'm going that route, sue me!), Steb is selectively non-verbal and that never prevented him from asking/respecting consent, lovey-dovey

Request open for Best boy Steb <3

You sigh entering your little house, unclipping your helmet. You throw the house keys in the bowl and put your helmet next to Steb’s who did not move an inch the entire day. 

You plan your leaves whenever you feel like it, but Steb goes like clockwork and always takes two weeks of leave at the same time of year. Everyone at the barracks knows that those two weeks are his and he will not leave them to anyone else no matter their arguments or urgencies.  

He goes completely no-contact and vanishes without a single trace. 

What does he do during those two weeks? Beats you! He does not speak, and especially not about that. The first year under his tutelage you got to his home for a friendly chat, trying to break the ice with your mentor, but you found his house completely locked, shutters closed and mail piling up in the mailbox. 

Your best guess is that he goes to the mountain to bathe in the rivers and lacs of fresh, pure water to soothe his scales bruised by the water of Piltover soiled with chemicals. 

But now that you live together, you will discover his little secret! You have already put some clothes discreetly on the side for packing. When you got home a minute ago, the shudders of the second floor were already closed, just an inch ajar to let pass a thin ray of sun for you to finish packaging this evening and then swiftly jump into a train, to the Mountains you go! 

You turn your head as you open your boots, hearing piano music from the living room. Steb must be playing.  

You smile to yourself, taking off your boots. You love listening to Steb’s music, you could spend hours doing nothing but listening and watching him play his electronic piano. You always wanted to learn music and Steb patiently teaches you short simple melodies that you play on repeat until you can’t bear a single more note. 

Steb doesn’t mind it, he appreciates the waves and vibrations of music with his sensible Vastaya ears, apparently, it feels pretty close to sounds underwater for him, helping him relax after a long day.   

“Hi, Steb!” You chant entering the living room as you take off your harness holster, “I managed to take one week’s leave matching yours!” You announce your little surprise. 

You stagger as you hear Steb slams his hands on the key brutally. You turn to him to see him, his back turned to you, frozen still, shirtless, his large shoulder moving up and down like after an intended exercise. 

“Steb?” You ask gently, cautiously approaching the Aquatic Vastaya.  

You frown. What the...? 

You get closer, squinting. 

Is that...? 

“Oh my goodness, Steb! Are you all right?!” You shout. 

You grab his shoulder to make him turn towards you. Red scales all over! Steb’s deep green stripes are now invaded with a deep red shade, the same for the tip of his fins and ears. You’re no aquatic Vastaya expert, but a sudden change of scale color patterns cannot be a good sign. 

Steb looks at you with eyes rounded in surprise, cheek rosy, and with a feverish gaze. 

“Are you sick?! Since when?! Did you go to the hospital?! Did you visit a physician?!” You drown him questions as he slowly gets up, grabbing your hand in his. 

You detail his chest, covered in sweat and new red scales, parasitizing his lovely green stripes. His chest rises up and down deeply and when you raise your gaze to look into his ocean eyes, you discover them febrile and dark. 

“Oh Steb... Are you all right?” You beg.  

Steb details you, remaining silent, slightly disheveled, his cheek fins waving repeatedly. His gaze lowers slightly to your lips and he licks his teeth. He raises your hand to his mouth and reverently kisses your fingertips and your palm, closing his eyes as a purr starts resonating in his chest. 

“...Steb? I am worried for you!” You insist, voice cracking in fear for your lover. 

Color change so swiftly is surely the prelude to a blood disease or even an organ failure... You know he pushes himself so much! Never allows others to see when he is tired or in pain, preferring to suck it up for his team’s benefit, but now it catches up with him! 

You try to resonate with him but he looks... out of here, like in some sort of daze. 

His large hand sneaks around your lower back and pulls you close to him, pressing his forehead against yours, purring deeply. You try to control your breath as he only blinks with his third eyelids,  his attention solely on you. 

He starts to cradle you, swaying your hips together gently, intertwining your fingers together. He brushes the tips of your noses together as he slowly dances with you in your small living room. 

“Steb... Is that an illness?” You ask, recovering your calm to think logically. 

He slowly shakes his head, blue eyes dead focused in your eyes. 

“Should I be worried?” His eyes lower down to a corner as he thinks, before returning to yours and shrug, his purr deepening. 

You gulp and nod, rationalising the situation. 

“Can I know what this is all about now?” You put your hand on his pec, strangely warm to the touch and vibrating with the purr. 

He takes a fistful of your hair and kisses your forehead, squeezing your hand in his. He lowers himself to kiss the tip of your nose tenderly and he releases your hair to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing your lower lips fondly, parting them just a bit. 

This is his usual move to ask for a kiss.  

Patiently waiting for your consent, devouring you with his blue eyes. 

You gulp, feeling his heartbeat against your palm, beating rapidly but steadily in his ribcage. 

He releases your cheek to take your chin between two fingers, still playing with your lower lip, and tilts your head as he brushes your nose tips together again, his lips hovering tantalizingly over yours, teasing you as you think he will close the gap several time, feeling his breath on your lips. 

But he remains patient. 

Simply toying with you, but never trespassing the limit without a clear ‘Yes’. 

His eyes are dark, a storm rages on inside of them, but an emotion pierces the fog. 

Imploration 

Despair 

Begging... 

You never saw him in such a state... 

You weakly nod once and close your eyes. Maybe acceding to his demand will relieve him a bit... 

He releases your hand to circle your hips and press them hard against his loins as you feel the ghost of his lips on yours.  

As to taste the water he leaves a single, trembling peck on your lips. 

Then another 

And another 

And one more  

Soon enough he is devouring your lips, giving demanding kisses, licking your lips to earn access. You open your mouth for him and his tongue enters, hugging and dancing with yours like a first time. 

He kisses you deep like he never did before, robbing you both of your oxygen. He bites down your lip with a growl as he pushes you until the back of your knees hits the sofa, unbalancing you and you fall with a yelp of surprise. 

Steb follows you easily, never letting go of your lips, you feel his weight pining you down the sofa, keeping you caged under him as his hands explore your back freely.  

You grab his side, his shoulders, his arms, his cheeks... You have no idea what to do with yourself when he treats you in such a way... 

You try to breathe in those demanding attentions while he lets escape a deep, rumbling sound between a purr and a growl, coming from the very depths of his chest. You start feeling dizzy, you have never been kissed like that by anyone, especially by Steb who prefers delicate touches and soft little attentions as he is a tender soul himself... 

Your ears are full of your gasps and pants and his subtle growl, your nose is invaded by his natural salty musk, getting straight into your head and making your heart palpitate even harder! His ears shake, and all his fins are coursed by a shudder, making him hiss. 

You take an immense breath when he finally lets go of your lips, a string of saliva connecting you together. He observes you panting, caressing your cheek with his knuckles so delicately. He reverently kisses your forehead once more before kissing your temple, your cheek, your jaw, your neck, and then taking a big lap with the flat of his long tongue on the entire length of your exposed throat. 

You lower your gaze as you feel Steb pulling on your jacket. He is looking at you while fiddling with the buttons, awaiting your go. 

You feel a fire in your cheeks and one starting between your legs. He never was so forward and demanding. Steb likes to take things slow for both of your comfort. 

He likes taking his time, appreciating each little step of the way...  

You just started exploring each other’s body after moving in together and if at first you felt frustrated it took so long to move things on, you started to get used to it, and even appreciated his method, reveling in the simple little things with delight. 

And now he is the one being impatient, confusing you in your newfound pace! 

The thought of stopping everything to get a straightforward answer crosses your mind, but you only have to dive into the agitated waters of his eyes to know. 

He had to hide from everyone in the dark each year, dealing with that storm all alone, without the warmth of a lover or a friendly shoulder that could understand his turmoil without judging him.  

Him always so composed, irreproachable, so well put together... 

What would they say if they ever saw him in such a state? Like an animal? 

They already have so little respect for non-humans... 

You cup his cheek tenderly, tracing the quivering gills on his jaws with the tip of your fingers and all his fins and ears tremble terribly instantly as he grits his teeth. You do it again and he exhales deeply, brushing his cheek In your hand with a relieved expression. Instinctively, you bite down the tip of his ear, licking the frills teasingly and you feel his grip tightening around you with a deep rumble, threatening to tear your clothes apart entirely. 

You release his ear, your hand cupping his cheek lowering down to the gills on his throat, and start caressing them as he captures your lips again, opening your jacket’s button expertly with one hand, your tongues entangled in a sensual embrace. 

He opens your jacket rapidly and opens your blouse a bit, just enough to create a cleavage that he tenderly kisses, before pressing his ear to your sternum and closing his eyes. 

Savoring your heartbeat while hugging you tight. 

You circle his shoulders and kiss the top if his head, diving your nose in his green strands.  

Steb did not close the shudder of the first floor, letting the sun’s rays bathing the living room illuminate his large back, making his red scales shine like they were real flames. You admire his powerful muscles rolling under his skin, creating waves of light on his scales, hypnotizing you entirely. 

He is absolutely stunning with theses shiny shades of red and green. 

You caress his hair as he deeply inhales, nudging his face between your bosoms, listening to the melody of your heart as you feel his finger digging into your flesh. He rolls his shoulders, agitated but evidently trying to control himself the best he can. 

You close your legs to hug him tight inadvertently putting pressure on his groin, which you now realize is really warm despite his pants and considerably swollen, making him hiss in response, his cheek scales shaking in tandem with the sound. 

Everything comes to a halt as Steb curls into your embrace, tightening his grip on you while you press your smaller body against his on the small sofa of your home. 

For a fleeting instant, both of your hearts beat at the same rhythm, like a single being. 

“I love you, Steb...” You confess, inhaling his salty scent deep into your lungs as you caress the top of his beautiful head, “You are my everything.” 

His purr peaks to higher notes at your words and he spins his head to reverently kiss your sternum again, soft pecks like butterfly wings, going higher and higher until he reaches the crook of your neck and he bites down the sensitive skin, nibbling it between his teeth, sucking on it, making you gasp. 

He parts from you, brushing his lovebite you feel flourishing on your skin. A chance you are on leave, you would have difficulties explaining this one to your colleagues. 

Steb tightly smiles, satisfied with what he sees on your delicate skin. You purse your lips and lunge forward to bite down his own neck, paying him back in his own coins. He lets out an audible gasp of surprise and a long moan as you suck the crook of his neck, holding the back of your head to keep you there. 

You part from him spitting little scales off your tongues, trying to scrub them off with your fingers, prompting him to chuckle, thoroughly amused by your demeanor, as he loudly purrs. You look up at him, leaning domineeringly over you, but his eyes spill love and adoration. 

”Mon amour...” He whispers like a secret, for your ears only. 

You nudge your noses 

But the storm still rages on in his ocean eyes... and between your legs. 

He looks into your eyes as one of his hands takes a handful of your thigh, slowly slipping under the fabric of your skirt, asking a silent, fated question  

You circle his shoulders and hips, locking him in your embrace and peck his nose, and extra sensible part of his face, like all aquatic Vastaya, and his purr skips a bit, like a hiccup. 

“Take me to our bedroom, Steb...” 

He reverently kisses your lips and lifts you up from the sofa, easily carrying you up the stairs toward your bed, both hearts palpitating in anticipation... 

[roshni99]

इस रोमांचक दूसरे हिस्से में, डॉ. खुशबू मत्तू के साथ कंधों की मोबिलिटी के दुनिया में डूबें! इस विशेषज्ञ व्यायाम टिप्स से फ्रोजन शोल्डर की समस्या को दूर करें और लचीलापन और बल को बढ़ाने के लिए डिज़ाइन किए गए व्यायाम योजना का पता लगाएं। इसमें से उन चर्चात्मक व्यायामों का अन्वेषण करें जो फ्रोजन शोल्डर को प्रभावी ढीला करने के लिए तैयार किए गए हैं। इस अवसर को न छोड़ें, गति के साथ चलने की स्वतंत्रता को पुनः प्राप्त करने और बिना दर्द के जीने की दिशा में इस यात्रा में हमारे साथ शामिल हों! 💪✨ #स्वास्थ्यऔरकल्याण #विशेषज्ञसलाह 💡 **जो इसकी आवश्यकता है, उसे टैग करें! मिलकर, चलिए हम फ्रोजन शोल्डर से मुक्त होकर और गति और शक्ति के जीवन का स्वागत करें। 💪 #शोल्डरस्वास्थ्य #DrMattooकेसाथस्वतंत्रता #शोल्डरमुक्ति" 🌟"व्यावसायिक समर्थन और आवश्यक साधनों के लिए हमारे मोबाइल ऐप को डाउनलोड करें: 📲 Android: http://bit.ly/3JACQOb 🍏 Apple: https://apple.co/3I0QKbe हमारी वेबसाइट: www.raphacure.com यहां से ऐप डाउनलोड करें और अपने व्यावसायिक और स्वास्थ्य आवश्यकताओं का समर्थन प्राप्त करें। एक सुरक्षित और सुचना-पूर्ण अनुभव के लिए हमारे ऐप का उपयोग करें।" frozen shoulder exercises,frozen shoulder treatment,frozen shoulder exercises at home,frozen shoulder exercise,frozen shoulder physiotherapy,shoulder frozen treatment,shoulder pain relief exercises,frozen shoulder recovery,how to treat frozen shoulder,sukoon physical therapy,dr varun wasil,frozen shoulder pain relief,shoulder pain relief,shoulder mobilization techniques,frozen shoulder stretches,swami ramdev,baba ramdev,ramdev,yog guru,yog,yoga

[joshslater]

Resizing

Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

"Care to make it more interesting?" the guy said. We were both about the same age, size, and build. Me, a ginger electronics engineer student dedicated to exercise for years, and recently getting serious with bodybuilding, and he, a Latino who obviously didn't skip gym or his meal plan too often. I guess that was why he'd asked me to spot for him at the barbell. He returned the favor and I felt the need to use the same weight as him and do his reps plus one. That led into testosterone fueled adventure hunt through the gym where we one-upped each other on various equipment and exercises. No one else was in there at this hour. Very mature behavior conducive to optimal results, not. We'd likely regret this the rest of the week.

"Interesting how?" We were standing under the pull-up bars.

"Most pull-ups win muscle and size."

"Isn't that always the prize?" I asked.

"I suppose it is. Chin must come above the bar and then the head fully below it for it to count. Are you in?" He held out his hand. I shook it.

"I'm game," and took a small jump up to the bar and started without any hesitation. I could feel fatigue from what we had done previously, but I tuned it out best as I could. He was counting. I came past eight pretty smoothly, but then I started to struggle. I would have hoped to at least would be past twelve by that point. By thirteen I had to really push it to get number fourteen above the bar, but then I had to give up. I felt a bit disappointed, as I normally can go past fifteen, but he should be just as tired as I.

"Strong going," he congratulated and slapped my shoulder. Then he leaped to the bar, also trying to show off, and began. While it didn't look easy for him, I couldn't see him struggling too bad either, rhythmically going up and down, perhaps slowly getting closer to the agreed limit above the bar. "Ten. Eleven. Twelve." His pace didn't falter. "Thirteen. Fourteen." He made a little smirk. "Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen." That last one wasn't perhaps a legal pull-up, but I had already lost. Perhaps he felt it too, so he dropped down to the floor.

"Fuck, I'm tired," he said, no need to pretend anymore. "Well, at least I won. I shall claim my prize," and he grabbed my hand again. Suddenly I was in agony. It felt like the dull day-after-soreness after a particularly grueling gym session, but there was more to it. It felt like I couldn't move anymore, at least not much. I wasn't frozen in place, but my body refused to detach from him, refused from stepping away. I was hot. I could feel droplets of sweat running down my body, and my eyes were watering up, making the entire room hard to see. But I could see that everything was somehow shifting.

Once he let go I felt unsteady, my body still in flames and sore as hell. His face however wasn't in front of me anymore. Instead I stared right into his chest. I looked down at my body. Years worth of work was gone. It was still an athletic body, but all definition in arms and legs were gone. Pecs and shoulders like any track and field student. "What the hell did you do!" I shouted.

"Muscle and size," he said calmly and flexed his now much larger arm. He looked down at me. "Don't worry. Girls like short boys with abs. Boys too I guess."

"Fuck you! Turn me back!"

"Or what? You're going to tell someone a guy you don't know stole your height at the gym?"

He had a point there. If I hadn't just seen it happen it would be completely unbelievable to me too.

"Just be the bigger man," he said and walked towards the showers.

[demonic0angel]

Heyyyy

Look I know I keep asking for Dick x Dan, and I swear I try to restrain myself, but there’s just so little out there, and every time you write them, I devour it like a starving woman at a feast.

Sooo… if you ever feel like blessing the world (and me) with more, just know I will be here, waiting, possibly vibrating with excitement and ready to eat it up the second you drop it. No pressure, of course—but also, please?

(Nah, I love Bad Humor and I appreciate your asks and replies XD)

Dick smiled as he waddled inside of the Far Frozen's medical bay. Once inside and warmed up, he immediately shed his various jackets as one of the beings there greeted him.

"Are you here for His Highness?"

Dick smiled and nodded. The other being gave him a smile of bared teeth before they said, "I shall bring you to Frostbite. Please follow me."

Dick was eventually led into another room, where he finally found who he was looking for. Dick beamed and called out, "Dan! How are you?"

The moment Dan saw him, tears flooded his eyes and then he started sobbing and whimpering. He tried to mumble something but was unable to. Alarmed, Dick crossed the room and checked over him. Dan looked normal, so what was wrong?

Dick immediately switched tactics and cooed, "Aww, Danny, what's wrong? Can you talk? Does it hurt? Did the procedure go badly?"

Frostbite was the one who answered, "The procedure went well. I believe he is emotional and a tad out of it from the amount of anesthesia we had to use to subdue him in the end."

Dick grinned, gently hugging Dan's head. Dan cuddled against his stomach, still sobbing and whimpering words, wrapping both arms around him. "Awww! Are all four of them out?"

Frostbite nodded seriously. "Yes. All four of His Highness' wisdom teeth have been removed."

Dick struggled not to laugh as he looked at Dan's loopy self. At some point, everyone had realized that because Dan was so isolated at 14 years old and onwards, that he hadn't gotten his wisdom teeth removed. He had picked up a fight at the idea, but Dick was able to convince him to get Frostbite to do the procedure for him.

Hopefully, he wouldn't be angry enough to go on a rampage after this. Dick shook his head at the thought but was a little happy that he got to witness such a cute, whiny version of Dan.

He gingerly pulled Dan to his feet. Dan wobbled and then burst into another wave of tears, leaning over him and clinging on like an octopus. Dick rubbed his cheek against his head with a delighted coo as Dan cried into his shoulder before he helped him move along.

"I'll bring him home now. Thank you for taking care of him, Frostbite!" Dan made an audible growling noise at this.

"Of course! He should heal very quickly from the surgery due to his ghostly nature, but he may be sore and irritable for a few days after the procedure! For the first day, make sure that he doesn't get dry socket and no vigorous exercise!"

Frostbite reached over but before he could even do anything, Dan swiped at him with his claws. He growled lowly, glaring at him with teary, accusing eyes like Frostbite had personally done him wrong. Dick cooed again, almost squealing.

So cute! Dan being so pouty was a treat that he hadn't realized he needed!

Dick grinned and hugged Dan, ensuring that he wouldn't attack anyone else. "I'll take care of him. Thank you again!"

As they slowly moved to the vehicle that Dick used to get to the Far Frozen, he kissed the top of Dan's head as he helped him move his sluggish legs. Dan gave a small purr, squeezing his arms around him.

Dick felt his heart swell at the sight of him, vulnerable and endearing.

"Don't worry, Danny, I'll take care of you until you get back to normal, okay? C'mon, Alfred made soup for you at the Manor."

[tacobacoyeet]

operation: just kiss already | jake peralta x reader

a/n: thank you for the request @glennussy! did you know that not only are you responsible for my first suits fic, you're also resposible for my first brooklyn nine-nine fic? how cool is that?! here's a short, silly little thing.

warnings: nothing really, but i tried to capture the cadence of an episode of brooklyn nine-nine with this, so it's not my usual writing style.

The bullpen was quiet.

Suspiciously quiet.

Which should’ve tipped you off, but you were too busy arguing with Jake over the objectively superior Die Hard sequel. (It was the third one. Obviously.)

“No way,” Jake was saying, leaning so far back in his chair that it teetered on two legs. “Die Hard 2 has snow. Explosions. A villain who looks like the guy who sells hot tubs at the mall. It’s festive and explosive.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s derivative and soulless. John McClane deserves better. Die Hard with a Vengeance has buddy cop magic. It has riddles. It has Samuel L. Jackson.”

Jake gasped. “You only like that one because of the riddles.”

“Correct. And also because it’s better in every possible way.”

He grinned at you, all teeth and ridiculous enthusiasm. “You’re so wrong, and it’s adorable.”

Unbeknownst to either of you, Rosa had entered the bullpen mid-debate. She stood frozen for a second, eyes narrowed as she watched Jake scoot his chair closer to yours under the guise of making a point. You were both laughing now—loudly, obnoxiously, obliviously.

She turned on her heel, marched into the briefing room, and slammed the door open. Amy looked up from her planner.

“They’re flirting again,” Rosa said. “Loudly. About Die Hard.”

Amy let out a strangled noise and flung her highlighter across the room. “That’s the third time this week!”

“I can’t take it anymore,” Boyle said, his voice cracking with emotion. “It’s like watching two golden retrievers discover love but never actually go for the tennis ball.”

Terry looked up from his yogurt. “They need a push.”

“No,” Holt said firmly from the doorway. “What they need is therapy. But I’ll settle for a strategic intervention.”

Rosa raised an eyebrow. “Sir?”

He sighed. “Mandatory team-building. Effective immediately.”

Amy clapped her hands. “I’ll make the schedule.”

“Operation: Just Kiss Already is a go,” Terry muttered.

Boyle was already crying.

-----

The next morning, you walked into the precinct, coffee in hand and zero suspicion in your heart. Jake appeared beside you like a particularly handsome ghost.

"Morning, partner," he said, stealing a sip of your drink without asking. You let him, as always.

“Morning, parasite.”

“Aw. You say the sweetest things.”

You were halfway through bickering over who would win in a fight between Bruce Willis and a sentient vending machine when Amy called out: “Everyone to the briefing room!”

Jake perked up. “Ooh, emergency? Murder? Vending machine uprising?”

“Worse,” Rosa muttered, brushing past. “Icebreakers.”

You shot Jake a look. “Should we run?”

“Too late.”

Inside the briefing room, Holt stood with a large poster behind him that read: TEAM-BUILDING WEEK: PRECINCT UNITY AND COHESION.

Boyle had decorated it with glitter pens.

Jake leaned toward you and whispered, “That poster feels like a trap.”

“You feel like a trap,” you muttered back.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Welcome,” Holt said, deadpan. “This week will consist of a series of exercises meant to bolster teamwork and deepen interpersonal bonds. Participation is mandatory. Complaining is futile.”

Terry stepped forward, clapping once. “We’re starting with a classic: Trust Falls.”

Jake groaned audibly. “Oh no. No, no, no. I have very little trust and a lot of fall-related trauma.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Amy chirped, already pairing everyone up. “You’re with Y/N.”

Jake turned to you, giving a mock-solemn nod. “If I die, avenge me.”

“Noted.”

You stood behind him, arms out. He looked over his shoulder suspiciously.

“You’re not gonna let me hit the ground just to prove a point, right?”

“Depends. Do you admit Die Hard 3 is superior?”

He gasped. “You would let me die.”

But he let himself fall anyway—and you caught him.

Jake blinked up at you from your arms. “Huh. I didn’t die. That’s kind of romantic.”

You laughed. “Don’t push it, Peralta.”

Across the room, Amy wrote something down in her binder and underlined it three times.

Boyle wiped away a tear. “They’re so beautiful.”

-----

The next activity was announced during lunch.

“Desert Island Scenarios,” Terry declared, holding up a laminated packet. “Each pair will be given a list of items and a survival scenario. Work together to decide what to keep, what to ditch, and how you’d make it off the island. It’s about problem-solving and cooperation.”

Jake immediately raised his hand. “Are we allowed to weaponize coconuts?”

“No,” Amy said flatly.

“Fine. Then I call dibs on building our shelter.” He nudged you. “You good with palm fronds?”

You smirked. “As long as I’m not the one weaving them.”

The two of you were given a scenario card that read: Shipwrecked on an uninhabited island. No rescue expected for two weeks.

Jake read aloud: “You may choose only five of the following ten items: a hatchet, a tarp, a fishing net, waterproof matches, a flare gun, a pot, a deck of cards, duct tape, a mirror, or a radio with no batteries.”

You both immediately said, “Matches.”

Jake beamed. “We’re so in sync.”

You rolled your eyes. “Calm down, coconut buddy.”

By the end of the exercise, you had drawn a map of your imaginary island, built a fantasy hut, and decided you’d survive by fishing, drinking boiled rainwater, and arguing over who got the hammock.

Jake looked disturbingly pleased with himself.

“Honestly?” he said, stretching his arms over his head. “I think we’d make a pretty great apocalypse duo.”

You didn’t say anything.

But you didn’t look away either.

Across the room, Rosa whispered, “They’re doomed.”

Boyle sobbed quietly into his lunch.

-----

“Next up,” Amy announced the following day, with barely restrained glee, “is the Compliment Gauntlet!”

Jake looked alarmed. “That sounds suspiciously emotional.”

“That’s because it is,” Amy said. “Each person will be tethered wrist-to-wrist to a partner while offering increasingly specific compliments. The rope only comes off when both people have given a compliment that makes the other physically blush.”

You stared at her. “What kind of twisted Hallmark-bootcamp is this?”

“Justice,” Rosa muttered. “Sweet, calculated justice.”

Jake grinned. “Well, looks like we’re stuck with each other. Again.”

“I’m starting to think that’s intentional.”

“You think?” he said, already extending his wrist toward you. “I’m shocked, truly.”

The rope was tied. Amy set a timer. “Begin.”

Jake smirked. “You have the best taste in snacks and the most expressive eye rolls I’ve ever seen.”

You blinked. “You remembered my snack order?”

“Down to the exact number of gummy bears.”

Your cheeks warmed. Damn it.

“Your hair looks really good today,” you said quickly, deflecting.

He tilted his head. “That’s cute, but not enough. We both know it.”

You exhaled. “You’re the most annoyingly observant, big-hearted disaster of a detective I’ve ever met, and it drives me insane in a way that’s... weirdly endearing.”

Jake blinked.

The tips of his ears turned red.

The rope fell to the ground with a dramatic snap.

Boyle audibly gasped.

Amy fist-pumped. “YES!"

Rosa nodded, satisfied. “Finally.”

Jake looked down at the rope, then at you. “So… we blushed.”

You stared back. “We did.”

His grin grew slow and dumb. “That means we’re... great at this.”

“You’re impossible.”

“Yet here you are.”

-----

The final activity arrived with all the subtlety of a bombshell.

“Tonight’s exercise,” Amy announced, trying not to visibly vibrate with excitement, “is called ‘The Trust Maze.’”

Jake squinted. “Is this about corn mazes? Because I got lost in one as a kid and accidentally joined another family.”

“No,” Amy said. “This is a communication challenge. One person wears a blindfold. The other gives verbal directions to guide them through an obstacle course set up in the evidence room. Minimal lighting. Maximum confusion. The only way out is teamwork.”

Jake turned to you, grinning. “So basically, I stumble around in the dark while you yell at me?”

“Pretty much,” you replied. “Sounds like a Tuesday.”

Boyle handed Jake a blindfold. “Godspeed, buddy.”

Moments later, Jake was standing at the starting line of a makeshift maze made of overturned chairs, file boxes, and caution tape, blindfold secured. The lights were dimmed.

“You ready, Y/N?” Terry called from the corner, stopwatch in hand.

“As I’ll ever be,” you muttered, stepping beside the tape.

“Go!”

“Okay,” you called. “Take two steps forward. No—your other forward. Right.”

Jake flailed and corrected himself. “You need to define directions better!”

“Maybe if you didn’t walk like a baby deer on ice!”

Laughter echoed from the bullpen.

“Turn left! Now duck—DUCK!”

Jake dropped to a crouch as a mop handle swung above his head.

“Holy crap,” he breathed. “You’re actually trying to kill me.”

“Only if you keep making Die Hard 2 references.”

He stumbled forward again, miraculously avoiding a stack of boxes. “You know, this would be a lot more romantic if I weren’t sweating profusely and fearing death.”

You hesitated for half a second, voice quieter now. “Romantic?”

Jake stopped. “Wait, did I say that out loud?”

You didn’t answer. He tugged the blindfold up just enough to peek at you.

The room fell quiet.

“I mean,” he started, his voice suddenly more genuine than it had been all week, “this whole thing’s kind of ridiculous, right? Everyone trying to make us figure out what we apparently can’t?”

You looked at him, soft and stunned. “You think we’re that oblivious?”

Jake smiled sheepishly. “I don’t know. Maybe. But I also know I like arguing with you. I like drinking your coffee. I like... the way you always catch me.”

Your heart was hammering.

“I like you,” he said. “A lot.”

You took a slow step forward until you were right in front of him. “Then maybe,” you murmured, reaching up to pull the blindfold fully off, “you should stop letting everyone else tell you when to do something about it.”

Jake’s breath hitched.

And then you kissed him.

The entire bullpen erupted.

“FINALLY!” Boyle screamed.

Amy high-fived Rosa. Holt closed his office door with a muttered, “About time.”

Terry just grinned and marked something off on a clipboard.

Jake pulled back slightly, dazed. “So... uh... do we win team-building week?”

You grinned. “We just might’ve broken the scoreboard.”

[lightseoul]

This is amazing!!! #29 please 🥹

ngl, this one was a bit challenging to write! i had an initial vision, realized it didn't work, then the story just ended up taking this course. in any case, i hope y'all still like this one! thank you for playing <3

(this is lightseoul's 2k milestone event ft. bakugou katsuki! to play, view the numbered list of prompts here, then simply send an ask with your chosen number and i'll whip something up!)

29. "I NEED THIS TO WORK." (1.5k)

you’d chalk it up to gravity—the palpable heaviness that accompanies each step you take up the staircase leading to the building’s roof deck.

and maybe your lack of exercise, too? you can’t remember the last time you had a proper, challenging workout that really pushed you to your limits, hence your shitty-ass cardiac health.

deep inside, however, you know you’re just using the earth’s downward pull and your questionable physical fitness as shabby excuses more than anything.

case in point: you feel the sudden, visceral urge to retreat when you finally reach the landing and see the poor man who’s about to be at the very center of your truth bomb’s explosion.

to your credit, though, you don’t turn a 180 and start the trudge back down to the house party mina’s busy hosting at the moment. instead, you just stand there staring at the aforementioned poor man who’s turned against you, leaning on the tall railings and most likely admiring the view of musutafu’s city skyline.

when you first noticed him slowly retreating from the conversations that were unfolding back in mina’s loft, you didn’t know whether to feel appeased or nauseous. you knew him well enough to be privy to the fact that he didn’t really enjoy parties, so he would usually step out and get some air when he could.

this was the exact moment during which you planned to attack. at least, that was the idea when you were crafting your ultimate confession scheme a few weeks ago when you first got mina’s invite.

but now, shit is getting too real, and you don’t know if you can do this anymore.

you unknowingly tighten your grip on your phone, an important component of this entire, borderline laughable plot to declare the feelings you’ve been keeping in for god knows how long, before finally deciding that no, you can’t do it tonight.

but any plans of yours to back out and quietly tiptoe out of the area practically fly out the window the millisecond you make the decision.

because, of course, #7 pro-hero dynamight has excellent environmental awareness.

he utters something that comes out more as a demanding statement than a question, and you find yourself frozen in your tracks as if you’re in a slapstick comedy.

busted.

when you don’t say anything for a few more beats, bakugou looks over his shoulder, his infamous scowl now etched across his unfairly handsome features.

“—i said, how long are you gonna keep standing there, dumbass?”

fighting the urge to roll your eyes and maybe laugh at yourself because of course you’d end up falling for the guy who calls you demeaning nicknames, you take a shaky inhale.

here goes fucking nothing.

as nonchalantly as you could, you shrug, before slowly making your way towards the spot beside the man.

you feel his eyes boring holes into the side of your face as you mirror him and lean on the railings, finding yourself unable to meet his gaze and opting to just stare at the skyscraper ahead of you instead.

“what,” he asks—no, demands—again in that haughty tone.

you finally will yourself to look at him, and when you do you have to intentionally school your face into a neutral expression despite the somersault your stomach does at the sight.

“what do you mean what?”

“you’ve got something to say,” he huffs, studying you intently. “spit it out.”

you stop yourself from gulping in nervousness and potentially giving yourself away just in the nick of time.

“what,” you counter, voice surprisingly even for someone whose nerves are shot. “can’t a girl just want the company of her best friend?”

you’re stalling, and you’re frustratingly aware of it.

bakugou only lets out a ‘pfft’ in response, turning to fully regard you. “i know that face, idiot. that face you make when you’re itching to say something. the one that makes you look constipated.”

you don’t even think twice about it, you move to smack the guy who’s now barking a laugh. he tries to dodge it, but you miraculously manage to clip him by his forearm.

he swats you away after you land a hit, and you try to fight the smile that’s threatening to take over your mouth despite his teasing comment.

“you better work on those reflexes, dynamight.”

without missing a beat, bakugou shoots you a look. “don’t even go there.”

at that, you throw your hands up in playful surrender, knowing better than to challenge the man to anything, particularly concerning his physical capabilities.

neither of you says anything after that—a comfortable silence enveloping the two of you—and you’re acutely aware of the familiar feeling of anxiety creeping back up.

however, in a rare moment of utmost clarity, it suddenly dawns on you that you probably won’t come across an opportunity as perfect as this again. at least not anytime soon.

so you take it.

“…katsuki?”

the pro-hero only grunts in acknowledgment, but you readily take it as a sign to continue.

your voice is wobbly when you ask: “y’know how much i value your friendship, right?”

you chance a glance at the man, whose eyebrows are now furrowed. he’s looking gagged, so you quickly follow it up with: “that question’s rhetorical, so keep your mouth shut.”

you look away before you can see his reaction, taking another shaky inhale as you continue.

“—i’m assuming you do, what with how annoyingly perceptive you are, so you must understand that this thing that i’m about to do is very high stakes for me, and i need this to work. otherwise…”

you trail off, not willing to verbalize the humiliation and heartbreak you’re going to feel if this doesn’t work out.

“otherwise, what?” bakugou asks, voice uncharacteristically soft. so soft, that you’re forced to meet his gaze, which is starting to look like it’s searching for something hidden amidst your features.

you quickly break eye contact before you fully crumble under the scrutiny of his stare. “you know, what? i’m just gonna go for it. you’ll figure it out.”

with that, you pull up your phone, swiftly unlocking it and navigating to your ancient, shared message thread, before pasting the link you’ve copied beforehand to the chatbox and ultimately pressing send.

just as quickly as you retrieved it, you pocket it back, nodding at bakugou’s right pocket, from which resounds a familiar chime indicating a text message from you.

the pro-hero only eyes you suspiciously and somewhat in confusion as he tugs his phone into his hold, gaze still trained on you as he thumbs his password with pure muscle memory alone. finally, they drift down to the screen.

and a whirlwind of emotions dances across his face.

his voice is thick when he finally reads the link’s title out loud.

“send this to your…crush?”

he says the last word so incredulously you’re almost certain a part of your soul just died in utter shame.

may she rest in peace.

the rest of you, unfortunately, is still very much alive.

you stand there as bakugou looks up at you, features contorted into an inexplicable expression, before looking back down to his phone, then back to you again.

“…are you pulling my fucking leg?” comes his hostile reaction.

now it’s your turn to look at him in bewilderment and, if you were to be honest, mild (severe) embarrassment-induced indignation. “what? no! why would i joke about this?”

bakugou only stares at you for a beat longer, before checking the text again, like he’s making sure he read it right as if he hadn’t just been studying it so closely for the last few minutes.

“you’re—i’m—you like me?”

you try to ignore how breathy his question came out, focusing instead on willing yourself to nod in affirmation despite your body screaming at you to deny all allegations and make a run for it.

maybe you can delude yourself into thinking it’s not too late for that?

“huh.”

struggling to fight the sinking feeling that’s encroaching on your body, you force out what’s hopefully a passable chuckle to save whatever face you have left.

“now you get the otherwise i was talking about?”

“…yeah.”

the air around you turns quiet, but unlike a while ago, this lull is anything but comfortable. you glance longingly at the staircase, wishing you could go back to roughly ten minutes ago. you then look back at your best friend who’s still catatonic, staring down at his phone screen.

well.

that’s all the answer you need.

turning toward where you came from, you try your best to keep your chin up nonetheless. “i better head back, kats. mina’s probably looking for me and i should help out with—”

you’re cut off by your phone pinging, and as you scramble to bring it out of your pocket you wrack your brain for who the hell this could possibly be.

and then you see it.

(9:39 PM) blasty is the best (or sumn 🙄): (sent a link)

[movefreephysio]

Personalised Exercise Therapy in Singapore for Optimal Recovery

Managing Joint and Muscle Pain with Physiotherapy in Singapore 

 In Singapore's fast- paced  terrain, musculoskeletal issues are  getting increasingly common due to a  blend of  life habits, sports conditioning, and long work hours. Whether you’re an office worker fused to a  office, an active athlete, or someone in between,  common and muscle pain can impact your  diurnal life. Fortunately, activity offers a range of  results to help manage and rehabilitate these conditions effectively. 

 Take shoulder pain, for  illustration. It’s not just an issue athletes face —  numerous  individualities develop discomfort from poor posture,  repetitious strain, or indeed after surgery. Shoulder pain physiotherapy in Singapore focuses on addressing the root cause, whether it's a muscular imbalance, inflammation, or a more complex  common issue. Through a combination of  primer  remedy, exercise, and movement education, cases  frequently  witness reduced pain and improved range of  stir within a many sessions. 

 Another common condition seen in conventions is tennis elbow, which ironically is n’t limited to tennis players. This overuse injury affects the tendons around the elbow and is  frequently  touched off by  repetitious arm movements.Physiotherapy for tennis elbow in Singapore typically involves targeted soft tissue release, eccentric strengthening, and ergonomic advice to prevent recurrence. With the right approach,  utmost cases can return to their normal conditioning without long- term complications. 

 A  further  grueling  condition is  firmed  shoulder, known medically as  tenacious capsulitis. It develops gradationally and leads to severe stiffness and limited movement in the shoulder joint. People  frequently dismiss the  original symptoms as minor strains until  diurnal tasks like dressing or reaching overhead come a struggle. Frozen shoulder physiotherapy in Singapore is crucial in managing this condition, with therapists using joint mobilizations, stretching routines, and heat therapy to improve mobility and reduce discomfort. Beforehand intervention  frequently leads to better  issues, shortening the recovery timeline. 

 Moving down the arm, wrist injuries are also common, especially among office workers, gamers, and those involved in homemade labor. Whether it’s carpal lair pattern, tendonitis, or apost-fracture recovery, wrist pain physiotherapy in Singapore plays a vital  part in restoring hand function. Physiotherapists may use modalities like ultrasound  remedy, wrist splinting, and graded strengthening to support recovery and  insure that  individualities  recapture the dexterity  demanded for  diurnal tasks. 

 In the realm of sports injuries, ACL tears are among the most  stressed, particularly for athletes engaged in football, basketball, or skiing. Post-surgery or conservative  operation of an ACL injury demands a structured approach to recovery. ACL rehabilitation physiotherapy in Singaporee  generally unfolds in phases — starting with pain  operation and mobility restoration,  also progressing to muscle strengthening, neuromuscular training, and eventually, sport-specific drills. clinging to a  acclimatized  recovery plan significantly reduces the  threat ofre-injury and helps athletes safely return to their sport. 

Sports Massage Therapy  is n't a one- size- fits- all service. estimable conventions  frequently personalize treatment plans grounded on a thorough assessment of each case’s condition,  life, and  pretensions. What makes activity especially effective is its focus on long- term  operation — it's not just about relieving pain, but also about  precluding  unborn injury and  perfecting quality of life. 

 Whether you’re  passing discomfort in your shoulder, elbow, wrist, or knee — or recovering from surgery or trauma — engaging in proper activity can make a world of difference. With  ultramodern  ways,  substantiation- based practice, and endured  interpreters across Singapore, activity continues to be a trusted and effective option for restoring function and staying active at any age.

Visit Us: https://movefreephysio.com.sg/services/

[eff4freddie]

Physical Therapy

Joel Miller x AFAB Reader No Outbreak AU - 4.4k words

For @punkshort's AU August challenge, in celebration of her one year Tumblr anniversary!

A.N: My prompt was 'lifeguard Joel' and I'm nursing a bit of a sore wrist at the moment, hence whatever this is was born. Thanks for the fun prompt! I would very much like Joel to save me from drowning now, please and thank you.

Warnings: None.

It had just started out as a kind of tickling feeling around behind your ear on your left side, and down along the back to the shoulder blade. When you’d first noticed it you’d thought you had a hair stuck under your shirt, and all day you kept reaching up under your bra strap to try and free it. Later, you would rub the skin red trying to lift the phantom follicle from your skin.

Later, it developed into a coldness, punctuated sometimes with ants marching up and down your shoulder blade. Your clavicle ached in cold weather, and you rolled your shoulders of a morning to try and shake the weird sensations from the joint. You were too busy to worry about it, you had too many deadlines, you could just type with your left arm resting on a pad of paper to elevate it. You knew you’d been working too hard on your paper for your next research symposium. As soon as it was over you’d deal with it.

When it started thrumming of a nighttime you’d just take ibuprofen to dull it, numb it off with a heat pack and an occasional glass of whiskey. But when it got too hard to type, when the daggers started shooting down your arm to the point that you could barely get your sleeve over it, when your shoulder was so frozen you couldn’t lift it over your head to brush your hair, you conceded defeat.

Your physiotherapist was lovely, and young, and fit, and you wished you could hate her. She ran marathons on weekends, on purpose and apparently without having first been threatened, and she gave you a bunch of exercises you promised you would do, made you pay $24.95 for a bit of stretchy rubber you could tie to your doorknob and stretch with, a couple of strength building exercises printed out and folded neatly, which you immediately threw on your coffee table and used as a coaster.

You went twice a week after work. She massaged you until you had tears in your eyes, biting back the pain by clamping down on your back teeth. You lied to her that you’d done your stretches, and she let you, because she was a nice person. Your recovery stalled, and you both pretended not to know why.

In the end, you just got fed up with yourself. You’d had to push back your presentation at the symposium, had found it too painful to sit at your desk for the long stretches it would take to be prepared. Your supervisor had insisted you take time off, that your PhD could be extended, and you had balked at the idea and then, eventually, conceded that too. Your stupid frozen shoulder was icing out everything in your life you cared about. You suggested to your physio you might like to swim.

--

It had been a while since you’d been in a bathing suit. Glad you’d at least thought to shave, you went into the change room dreading coming out again. You’d deliberately gone at 2 PM on a Tuesday afternoon, figuring the only people there would be either 100 years old or ladened with babies, and their bodies wouldn’t be so threatening to yours. You remembered a time when your body had felt strong, when your legs had carried you around European cities, up and down mountains. You wondered where that girl went.

You were a careful person, and you liked rules, so you shuffled as speedily as you could towards the pool, careful not to run. Your brother had slipped once, aged 9 and a half, and knocked out two of his teeth when he went down. Your mother had to wait three months to get them fixed, having to save up the fee, and your brother had whistled slightly on windy mornings. You’d teased him about it, and you felt bad about it now, holding your arm tight to your body so as not to jostle your shoulder.

The water was cool, and you took the stairs one at a time to get yourself into it. You gasped when it reached your belly, reaching down to splash yourself to try and acclimatise. It wasn’t an especially warm day, but the sun was out and it was warm enough on your skin. You sunk down, feeling the water lap at your shoulder. The relief was immediate, the cool spreading over your strangled nerves, and you let out a sigh. You didn’t think you were about to swim any laps, but it was enough to bob around in the shallow end and feel the water carry your weight. Your mind was quiet for the first time in a while. You watched two birds glide on the breeze, ducking down to skim over the surface. You hoped they didn’t shit in it as they passed.

Then, a giggle. A tittering, high-pitched thing that shattered your reverie and made you turn towards it, a scowl on your face as you looked up into the sun. A woman in a high-cut bikini straight out of the 80s was standing at the base of the lifeguard’s chair, looking up at the man sitting atop it. She was practically drooling, flipping her hair and nearly slipping out of her top. You couldn’t make him out, the glare casting him in darkness and too proud to shield your eyes with your hand to get a good look. She had all her weight on one foot so she could thrust her hip out and her chest up. You heard his voice rumble out of his chest, deep and heavy and surprisingly kind. You couldn’t make out the words. You reminded yourself you didn’t care.

--

Your physio was proud of you, and you wanted to hate her for that, too. You reported your attendance at the pool, lied about doing your exercises, and paid another $24.95 for another rubber band thing after you pretended you’d misplaced the first one. You knew exactly where it was, on the doorknob where you’d tied it the first night and then ignored it. But it was a good, if expensive, excuse.

The next time you went to the pool you chose a time slightly earlier in the day, hoping that the midday sun might tan you a little as you rehabilitated. You bobbed around again in the shallow end, experimentally rolling your shoulders and moving your arms in small semi-circles in front of you. The water carried the weight so you could just focus on moving the joint, and when the ache set in you could just float there, let the water carry you completely as you floated on the surface. With your face to the sky and the sun beating down the whole world turned bright and colourless. It sanded down the sharp edges, turned the detail to pulsing fuzz on your retinas.

80’s Bikini Lady didn’t resurface, but you got out when an entire class of 4th graders arrived for their swimming lessons. As you went for your towel you heard that rumbling voice again, booming out over the top of 20 excited kids, instructing them to quiet down so he could teach them to tread water. You wondered if that was what you were doing now, your research and your thesis gathering metaphoric dust on your laptop. Treading water.

--

It took you until your fifth visit to try an actual lap. Your shoulder had been feeling lighter, the joint freeing itself under the water just enough that you could bear the weight of the it as you moved. You had been experimenting with little half breaststrokes, just two or three with your head high over the water and only deep enough that you could plant your feet at the first twinge of pain. But you wanted to try something different, today. You wanted to make it down to the other end, even if you had to grip the lane rope and pull yourself there.

You felt eyes on you as you walked to the edge, and you turned quickly to see the lifeguard was at his station. It was early enough in the afternoon that you could see him properly, his aquiline nose, his curls unruly and chocolate brown. He nodded at you, an acknowledgement that he was keeping watch, and you nodded back to him. It was just you and a man in his 60s in the pool today.

You hissed a little as you descended the stairs, feeling goosebumps rise on your skin. Today it was cloudy, and the water was cooler than you had been expecting, and you worried for a moment it would be bad for your shoulder somehow, that your muscles would be less malleable, less cooperative, in the cold. You swallowed, wondering if you really wanted to do this today. Then you remembered your thesis, and the way you had thrown yourself on dancefloors, in spin classes, ridden boys in your dorm room like your hips would never ache. You wanted that girl back. She was at the other end of the pool.

You pushed off, holding your arms straight out in front of you and using your feet against the wall of the pool to propel yourself forward, letting the momentum drift you the first few feet. With a brave breath in you spread your arms wide in a breaststroke, kicking with your legs to keep up some sort of speed. Three strokes, then four, then five and you were nearly a quarter of the way down the pool already. You just had to keep breathing, stick with it, pace yourself out. You cupped the water with your hands, pushing it away from your chest as you moved. There might have been a little twinge, but you banished any worry. You were doing it, if slowly, if gingerly.

You swam over the point where the bottom of the pool fell away, past the point where you could stand. The water felt cooler, the depth of it stealing some of the warmth, and you felt a little warning tingle up your elbow. Your neck pulled a little to the right to try and dodge the pain, and you faltered a little, lost some of your rhythm. In your surprise you’d opened your mouth and taken in a little bit of water, and you spluttered.

Suddenly your arms were out of sequence, and you were struggling to bring them back together in front of you while kicking with your legs. They felt uncooperative, like they were on different strings, and you were finding it hard to keep your neck bent up high enough to keep your face out of the water completely. You jerked to try and regain your momentum, and sent an electric shock through your shoulder, pain spreading out all the way down to your wrist. You gasped, the pain making you pull your arm into your body, trying to cradle it against your chest, and you started floundering, your nose and mouth dropping beneath the surface as you struggled to stay upright. You swatted at the surface of the water with your good arm, panic in your chest, as you tried to figure out if it was better to turn and head back to the shallows or carry on to the other end.

You heard a splash behind you, a huff of air as a body broke the surface and then an arm around your waist.

‘I’ve got you,’ he said, and you leant back into the warm body behind you, trying to suck in air.

‘My shoulder, my arm,’ you cried, keeping it tucked against you as the lifeguard pulled you to where you could stand. You gasped, choking a little on water but mostly just from shock, your face burning red with humiliation and the pain of your throbbing collarbone. ‘I’m sorry,’ you said, suddenly feeling like you wanted to cry, as you caught your breath, the man still holding you gently around the waist and leaning down to study your face.

‘You’re OK, you’re OK,’ he said, his voice like warm honey as it oozed over the panic in your brain. ‘Take a breath, I’ve got you.’

Oh fuck, you were definitely going to cry if he kept being so nice to you. You felt heat in the back of your eyes, bit down on your bottom lip so he couldn’t see it wobbling.

‘I just wanted to swim a lap,’ you said, and you could hear the desperation in it, feeling as small as a child.

‘You injured?’ he asked, and you nodded. He tugged you further towards the shallow end, led you by the good arm over to the steps.

‘My physio said exercise would help it,’ you explained, throwing her soundly under the bus. ‘I just…I thought I was ready.’ You felt the frustration bubbling over. You had a terrible habit of getting teary when you were mad. ‘It’s just been so shit, and I wanted to…I just don’t even know this body anymore, you know?’ you complained, wincing when you realised you’d just trauma dumped on him.

‘Can’t rush these things,’ he said, unfazed. ‘Gotta take it at your own pace.’ Standing up in this part of the pool the water only came to his waist, and he gestured to his belly where a jagged scar punctured his left side.

‘Jesus,’ you said, at the sight of it and also realising for the first time he was shirtless, water running in rivulets down his golden skin. He was so broad it was no wonder he’d managed to get to you in the centre of the pool in all of three strokes. You felt yourself start to tremble, and you weren’t sure it was from shock.

You’d known, of course, that he was handsome. You had eyes, after all. But up close, standing over you, hair slicked back as his brown eyes roamed your face for any sign of distress…up close, he was devastating.

‘Joel,’ he said, holding out his hand, and you took it, awkward and shy. He told you he liked your name when you mumbled it to him, and you realised he was very good at his job. You wondered where you could find an 80s bikini.

‘Thank you, Joel,’ you said, when your heart had finally settled back into its normal rhythm. ‘I’m sorry you had to…’

‘Trust me, pulling beautiful women out of the deep end is not the hard part of my job,’ he said, and then you watched as his eyes widened, like he was only just realising what he’d said, and you felt heat crawl up your cheeks.

You wanted to ask him what the hard part was. You restrained yourself, because you’d been humiliated enough for one day.

--

You skipped your next session at the pool, instead using the rubber stretchy thing to try and elongate the joint. It didn’t feel as good, and you nearly snapped it into your face more than once, and you definitely didn’t think about Joel’s golden skin glistening in the sunlight the entire time you did it. You didn’t think about his arm banding around you as he pulled you to safety, not even a little bit. The rubber thing was fine. It was going to solve all your problems.

--

You hated the fucking rubber stretchy thing. For one, it smelled like condoms but in a weirdly stale kind of way, and for two you were fairly sure it was going to rip your door off its hinges in your crappy little apartment, and you really didn’t want to have to call your landlord when that happened. It might mean you’d have to tidy up.

Also, it was late Spring and pretty soon school would be out, and the pool would be heaving, and so you had to get your shoulder back to normal as soon as possible before the place got flooded with kids. The bikini you fished out from behind a bunch of old clothes in the back of your closet was so that you could move your shoulder more freely. You were being pragmatic. You were planning ahead.

It was hotter again, the warmth of summer encroaching, and you were genuinely relieved to see the sparkling, clear water when you arrived on the pool deck. You walked, head held high and chest out just a little, past the lifeguard chair, studiously not looking but also really trying to look. You spent an extra few seconds fishing around in your back for your sunscreen, trying to steady your pulse. When you swivelled around, preparing to smear it over yourself, you glanced over at the chair.

Unless Joel had aged 20 years in the week since you’d been, and gained forty pounds and lost all of his hair, he was not on shift today. You felt yourself deflate, your shoulders slumping, your left collarbone sending out a thrum of pain in warning.

It was probably for the best, of course. You were here to do rehab. This was serious medical stuff.

You didn’t want to hazard another lap, not with Beergut McBaldALot on patrol, so you floated a bit in the shallow end and practiced making circles with your arms. You were stiff, having taken a week off to whip yourself up into a pointless frenzy over the lifeguard. The water eased some of the tension in the muscle, and you once again felt your mind start to still.

You wondered if, on his down time, Joel preferred board shorts or speedos. You couldn’t imagine him in a full banana hammock – you could, but you didn’t want to – but you wondered if he was a Daniel-Crag-In-His-First-Bond-Movie-When-He-Emerges-From-The-Ocean-Booty-Shorts kind of guy. That didn’t feel right either, though. His work uniform was boardies, and you decided that Joel was the type of guy who just wore them on his own time anyway, because they fit and they were on hand. As for what was going on underneath them. Well, that was something else entirely.

As you bobbed in the water you imagined his strong arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest and letting you rest your head on his broad, tanned shoulder. You wondered if you’d be able to feel his heartbeat on your cheek, if that close you could hear his tight little exhales as he glided you through the water, held you up so that you could finally, finally let go. You sighed a little to yourself, drifting in the middle of the pool and hoping no one had any plans to swim any laps. You let your hair trail out behind you as you drifted, imagined the slight pull of the water was his fingers threading through.

--

You weren’t hungry but you had nothing at home, so you stopped off at the grocery store on the way home, your shoulder feeling better for having had a little bit of movement. Sleepy from the warmth of the sun and your weightlessness, you barely noticed the man standing at the end of the cereal aisle until you were tripping over him, his arm shooting out to catch you before you could really, properly fall.

‘Ooof,’ he exclaimed, and you knew that voice, felt the furious rush of blood to your cheeks as you righted yourself and were met with the same warm, brown eyes.

‘We really must stop meeting like this,’ he said, smiling down at you, and he was just as beautiful on dry land as he was submerged. You felt your hands start to tremble and you worried you’d drop your basket.

‘Joel,’ you said, trying to hide the comingling shame and excitement on your face. ‘You look different when you’re wet.’

Murder you. End it now. It would simply be kinder.

Joel, to his credit, just laughed a little.

‘Hair’s a lot fluffier,’ he said, reaching up to tug at it and making you want to chew on your own fist.

‘There’s that,’ you said, your voice oddly strangled.

‘You breakfast shoppin’ at 4 in the afternoon?’ he asked, gesturing to the cereal box in your hands.

‘Dinner, actually,’ you said, strangely proud at your sheer level of disfunction. ‘Ever since my shoulder, cooking hasn’t really been…’

You trailed off. Your mom had sent over a couple of frozen lasagnes, and you’d worked your way through those in a week. For a while you got dinners delivered but it got expensive, and then worst, it got boring. Before all of this started there were some nights you’d been so engrossed in your thesis you’d forgotten to get dinner at all. You missed those nights, too. To be so distracted.

‘How’s the arm?’ he asked, and you realised you were cradling it again, holding it fast against your side.

‘It’s slow, and I’m trying to be patient,’ you said, honestly, and his brows saddled. He hummed in thought, pouting his lips out a little. You fought every atom in your body not to lean forward and pull them between your teeth.

‘Your physio given you exercises?’ he asked, and you nodded, avoiding his gaze. ‘You doin’ em?’ he asked, and you were suddenly really interested in the nutritional content of your Cheerios. He snickered out a laugh. ‘No one ever does ‘em.’

‘You speaking from experience?’ you asked, and he smiled.

‘I used to…well, not a physio but I did a little personal training, and uh…basically unless I was there barkin’ at ‘em no-one did what they were told.’

Bark at me, you thought. I’ll do anything you say.

You coughed, trying to collect yourself. Fuck, he was beautiful, but you realised what you liked most was just the warmth in his face, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. You trusted him, you realised. You didn’t know him, and you trusted him.

‘I’m pretty sure my physio knows I’m lying to her,’ you confessed, and he smiled.

‘She definitely does,’ he agreed.

‘I’m otherwise a very honest person,’ you added.

‘I have no doubt,’ he said, with a little twinkle in his eye that made you want to gouge the things out so you didn’t have to deal with them torturing you anymore.

Instead, you looked into his basket and saw kale, a bunch of carrots and a carton of eggs. You grimaced.

‘Please tell me you’re not on a cleanse or some shit,’ you said, and he smiled.

‘Nah, you got me just before I headed over to the candy aisle.’

‘You like candy?’ you asked, and he grinned.

‘Got a sweet tooth,’ he confessed.

‘Name your poison.’

‘Reece’s. The umm…the cups.’

‘The cups. A peanut butter man?’

‘Yes ma’am,’ he said, that southern drawl appearing again. You felt it hit you like a bullseye in your core. You wondered what else you could get him to agree to.

‘A man of taste,’ you said. You were flirting over grocery items and you didn’t fucking care. You would banter about the phone book if he kept grinning with his whorish little dimples out.  ‘Thank you for helping me out the other day,’ you said, and he shrugged.

‘S’my job,’ he said, and you shook your head at him, swishing your hands in front of you as if you could push his humbleness aside.

‘Yeah, but you chose that job, and I’m glad that you did,’ you said, simply. ‘It’s a generous thing, putting yourself on the line for someone else.’

‘Always been a kind of protector,’ he said, almost to himself.

‘I can see that,’ you replied, honestly, and he turned his gaze to you, considering you for a moment. ‘Although I guess a lot of the time it’s just watching people splash around.’

‘Ain’t hard to watch some people,’ he said, gazing down at you, his jaw muscle twinging a little.  You felt your stomach do a silly little flip.

‘No?’ you asked, your throat dry.

‘Mmm-mmm,’ he said, shaking his head but not breaking eye contact. You wanted to grab his broad, golden shoulders and hitch your thighs over them. You wanted to reach up and take his curls in your fingers, pull him onto his knees and his mouth to your nipple, let him nibble where they pebbled. You wanted to drown the gorgeous fucker, just for being so pretty he was setting your brain on fire.

For a second the two of you stared at each other, trying to pretend the sparks weren’t flying.

‘That can’t be dinner,’ he said, after a while, and you realised he was talking again about your cereal.

‘I could get some grown up muesli if that would make you happy,’ you offered.

‘Wouldn’t want you to get malnourished, come by the pool and drown from lack of…vitamins,’ he finished.

‘Lack of vitamins?’ you teased, and he blushed.

‘Can’t have you wastin’ away on me.’

‘So, you’re saying I have to eat the muesli for your benefit?’ you asked, and he shook his head.

‘No breakfast for dinner,’ he said. ‘Maybe I can fix you somethin’.’

Your heart stopped, right there in the grocery store, in your flip flops with your hair still wet from the pool.

‘…’ you said, and he finally broke your gaze, finally allowed you to breathe for a second. He looked thoughtful, maybe even a little sorry.

‘Not professional of me to ask out the patrons,’ he said, after a while.

‘Do you work at the grocery store?’,’ you asked, bolder than you were feeling. He moved closer towards you, just a half-step, so that you could feel his breath ghosting over your face.

‘If I gave you some exercises, would you do ‘em?’ he asked, his voice so low it came straight from the Devil himself. You felt the jolt of want spear between your legs.

‘My physio might get jealous,’ you said, and he grinned.

‘As your lifeguard I feel like it’s my duty to overrule, baby,’ he said. He lifted a hand to your bad shoulder, holding it gently, supporting the joint. You sighed a little, the extra support releasing some of the pressure from the tendon.

‘If you think it’s that serious,’ you whispered, as you leant in towards him, his mouth hovering just out of reach of yours. ‘Life and death.’

‘I’m afraid I might,’ he replied.

His lips tasted like coffee and sunshine. You lifted your arms to rest them on his shoulders. There was not a single twinge.