#frozen shoulder exercises at home

[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 इ��की 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

[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... 

[lostintransist]

Chiseled Heart | Part 2

CW: Suspisions of stalking

AO3

You liked the look of the big man at the gym. He never stared at you and offered help only when you really needed it. When you had last seen him blood had run down your arm from your smashed finger. The trip to the Instacare, thankfully, had not led to stitches but did require steri-strips, and the doctor advised you to take a week off from the gym as the swelling in your hand reduced.

It gave you time to clean the handkerchief the man had let you borrow. Honestly, you didn’t even know people still carried them around. The fabric, soft and clean against your fingers, doesn’t smell like him. Such a shame, you imagine he is a man who smells good. Mentally smacking yourself from the daydreams starting to stir you tuck the handkerchief into the top of your gym bag and go about getting ready for work.

Work involved being an actuary for an insurance firm. Yes, you often felt like the devil shat on your flesh when you left work but you had to survive capitalism somehow. Stumbling into the profession had been a stroke of luck. A job fair at your college campus in the early days of your general ed classes had sat between the two buildings where your classes were held. You had always been good, comfortable, and confident in math, and a job that would always be needed somewhere that let you dink around in Excel all day? Well, there were worse things to direct your life toward. You refused to work for health insurance companies. You needed to survive, but you didn’t need to be the reason someone died.

Audiobooks and your favorite forty-six-hour playlist (that did grow nearly every time you found a new song or band to obsess over) kept you company as you toiled away your minutes at the overly light computer. No matter how many times you flicked off the overhead lights your boss would turn them back on with every chat. It reached the point you were sure he was fucking with you. He didn’t work in the small office flooded with natural light. No, he worked across the building. You would hate him if that didn’t require giving any emotional energy toward the vampire.

Being the only non-man on the team led to some interesting reactions from people who floated by the office or dropped by to confirm the numbers on a file that had been sent out. They all filtered to you first. Every. Last. Visitor. It got so bad that you had taped a 62-point font two-page spread to the back of your monitor that read “NOT IN CHARGE ASK HIM” with an arrow pointing to your supervisor’s desk. It helped a little.

The gym between the office and your apartment had become a refuge from the corporate curve to your spine and the ache in your ass from your chair. It never seemed to fade no matter how many hours you switched from sitting to standing. Hip exercises though? Now those aches faded and left you fitting better in your slacks.

Staring at your frozen lunch in the microwave at eye level you toy with the waiting plastic fork at your lips. Mind drifting with the monotonous spin you find yourself thinking of him again. The man who wore a mask no matter how sweat through his top might be, who never stared, and walked with the slightest of limps. He had been kind, if a bit reluctant the few times you had interacted. Maybe reserved would be a better word for his actions. Nothing about his help had been reluctant toward you; more as if he battled within himself before deciding.

Maybe you should offer him a cupcake from the local bakery? Or take him to coffee as a thank you? Somehow the idea of his large hands hiding a paper cup as the heat seeped from it didn’t appeal. He couldn’t drink anything warm with a mask firmly in place. Doubt crept along your shoulders. You needed to say thank you. Handing the clean folded piece of cloth and your sincerest words didn’t satisfy the need ingrained from childhood.

Settling on offering to buy him a take-home dessert or a takeout of his choice you nod once to yourself. If he declined the offer at least you had put the effort in to truly articulate your thanks for his help. Today being Monday you set the goal of asking him when you returned his belongings. The rest of the day slips by easily; reports are completed on time and fired off by email. You didn’t even forget to add an attachment today.

When you are leaving the parking lot you notice it, that car that always leaves at the same time as you. It’s not terribly unusual. Building management did try and stagger off times to avoid parking lot traffic but the same car for the past three weeks had been pulling out directly behind you every time you left. The blue peeking through the rust of the bug started to give you Dahmer vibes. It had been a concern on your radar. Your panic didn’t increase until tonight. Instead of taking a turn before you got to your destination, the bug followed you today, parking at the back of the gym parking lot. You were able to snag an opening under a light pole and close to the entrance.

Scurrying from your car you sneak through the front door as the clock shifts to eight and they lock behind you. Heaving a sigh of relief you lift your bag further up your shoulder and head for the locker room. It isn’t hard to spot the man you are looking for when you let your eyes drift across the gym. He has headphones on today as he does squats. Man had a flat ass but he sure as hell never skipped leg day.

Dressing, you mentally run through the steps of your Monday routine. Stairmaster is first, then after you are warmed up today you would focus on back and chest. The man who helped you, damn you really needed to get his name today, didn’t notice you until you were nearly done with your last exercise. He often arrived before you and left after. When your eyes caught in the mirror that spanned the length of the gym he nodded once at you before continuing to put away his current weights.

Finishing your last set you speed through putting your own weights away and slipping into the dressing room to grab the handkerchief you needed to return. You are able to corner him in what everyone refers to as the stretching corner. Feet spread wide, head down he slowly walks his hands from one leg to the other. You do your best not to drool over the stretch and bulge of muscles as he does this. Chewing on your lip you wait patiently for his movements to be finished.

When his hands reach the middle he drops one knee and then the other, pulling both beneath him as he prepares to stand. He looks up after getting one foot on the ground. You are startled at the blue eyes that peer out at you.

“Ja?”

You blink a few times before offering his item back with both hands.

“I wanted to say thank you for your help and offer to buy you take out one of these days,” your words are nearly not understandable with how they all rush over each other to get out of your mouth. Taking a deep breath you give your name before noticing you are still holding on to the handkerchief.

Letting go you give him a wincing smile and step back a smidge.

Your eyes trail up with him as he stands, he is tall. You weren’t short for a woman by any means but you didn’t quite crack six feet. He had to be well over that number.

“I know you wear a mask so I would also be happy to get you a gift card. This isn’t me trying to pry or force you in any way I just thought a thank you wasn’t really enough you know?”

Now you are rambling. You shut your mouth with a slight click, barely managing to get your tongue out of the way before you crushed it. You stare at him as he stares at you.

“König,” he offers a hand.

You take it and shake it before tucking your hands behind your back to keep from embarrassing yourself further.

“I will decline the food offer, but danke,” he inclines his head with this thanks.

“You’re welcome, I didn’t think you would but I would feel bad if I didn’t at least offer.” Shrugging once you can feel this conversation coming to an end. Stepping back once more you can’t figure out the best way to end this interaction. “Thanks again, for the help.”

He nods once and you skitter away to the locker room for your bag. You studiously avoid looking for him as you head toward the front doors. The sight of the stalkerish car still sat in the same stall in the back of the lot. Turning to look at the front desk you only see two young women chatting away. Can’t ask them, they would be in just as much danger.

Cursing the bastard that was maybe stalking you under your breath you make your way back to the stretching corner. You wait again for König to take notice of you. When he does he lifts a brow in question.

“Sorry I know I’m awkward and probably annoying at this point but is there any chance you could walk me to my car?” You point over your shoulder as if he doesn’t know where the parking lot is. “There is this weird car I have been seeing over the last few weeks and they followed me here tonight and they are still in the lot.”

He nods and stands, walking by your side before holding open both the inner and outer doors for you.

“Will be back,” he says to the front desk gals in passing. They nod and thank him for the heads up.

The fresh air and trickle of water from the creek that runs next to the building are refreshing after the slight sweat-tinged air of the gym. The engine of the little blue bug starts up as you appear. It proceeds to peel out when they notice the mountain of a man at your side. König keeps pace with you, his silence is comforting as you breathe a sigh of relief.

Reaching your car you drop your duffle bag in the back seat and turn to look up at him as you lean back on the door.

“Okay, now I really do owe you dinner. Will you be here Wednesday? I’ll bring a gift card since I doubt you would like to have dinner with me and my socially incompetent self.”

“Nien, no need,” he waves a hand between you as if the help he provided is nothing. “I am also…awkward.”

“Well, nothing you say will prevent me from buying you a gift card.” You smile up at him, grin wide and bright. “Thanks König. I’ll see you Wednesday.”

With that you climb into your car, shutting and locking the door before driving off into the night. König waves to you as you stop before pulling onto the road. You wave back despite knowing he can’t see you in the dark.

Chiseled Masterlist | Masterlist

[charles-smith-pillow-princess]

Could you do just a small fluff scene in Charles’ and Arthur’ life?

Winter in Canada was always a long, bitter affair. The cold was a living thing, a vicious creature that bit hard as any teeth and snuck in every chink and gap in the small wooden cabin that Charles and Arthur called home. 

February of 1903 was the coldest month the two men had wintered through yet. Which was why, despite the first rays of sunshine beginning to gleam at the edges of the shuttered windows, Charles was content to continue lazing in the honeyed warmth of his and Arthur’s bed. 

That was until a draft of frigid air hit the bare skin of Charles’ back, rousing him. Before he could turn to protest, Charles yelped, flailing under the heavy covers as icy fingers tickled the crease where his thighs met his ass. 

“Shit—” Charles cursed, rolling to face his attacker. 

Arthur stood bent over his own side of the bed, laughing, bare hands braced on the worn knees of his snow-dusted union suit.

It was clear from the flakes in his hair and beard that the other man had gotten up to use the outhouse. As was his habit, the lazy bastard had suffered through the icy wind of the blizzard outside in his long johns and sockless feet shoved in boots, rather than bundling up for the short trip. Which explained why his hands felt like the frozen touch of death.

“I’m sorry,” Arthur wheezed out between guffaws, sounding anything but. “You just looked so peaceful—”

“You’re gonna be sorry,” Charles grumbled, seizing his husband by the wrist and yanking him onto their bed.

After a brief scuffle Charles had Arthur pinned face down against the bed, firmly wrapped in one of their blankets like a child swaddled against the cold. 

“C’mon, sweetheart,” Arthur huffed, struggling under the casual sprawl of Charles’ weight on top of him. “Lemme make it up to ya—”

Charles snorted, burying his face in Arthur’s neck as he adjusted the covers over his shoulder. He had Arthur effectively trapped, icy death-fingers neatly neutralized by the layers of quilt binding his delinquent cowboy from neck to knee. 

“You put another one of those ice blocks on me and I’ll bite you,” Charles grumbled, snuggling his arms around Arthur like the other man was his own personal hot water bottle. 

Arthur snorted. “Just wanted to thaw them out a little, darlin’,” he whined, squirming. It was a useless exercise—Charles was a warm, heavy weight against him, perfectly distributed to keep Arthur from getting his knees under him or wriggling an arm out. “Just made sense to reach for the hottest little hole I ever—“ 

Charles cut Arthur off with a forceful, biting kiss, rolling him so Charles sat astride Arthur’s hips, hands pinning Arthur to the bed by the shoulders.  

“Filthy,” Charles admonished, amused despite himself. His hair was half-escaped from the braid he wore it in for sleep, tousled by their roughhousing. 

“You’re a filthy, dirty man, Arthur Morgan,” Charles purred, lips close enough to brush Arthur’s own. His warm, sleep-sour breath puffed against Arthur’s cheeks, melting the last of the flakes caught in his short beard. 

Arthur smirked, craning his neck upward to peck a sweet kiss to the corner of Charles’ mouth. 

“You like me dirty,” he challenged, bucking up as best he could against the perfect bulk of Charles’ ass cradled against his hips. It was a freezing morning, but the look and feel of Charles settled snug across his lap had Arthur feeling as eager as a buck in spring.

“C’mon, sugar,” Arthur wheedled. “Lemme warm you up, show how sorry I am for terrorizing’ ya this early.” 

Charles hummed, sitting back as he considered the troublesome man he shared his bed with, who he called husband. 

“Alright,” Charles said, bending to settle against Arthur so their chests pressed together, the heat of their bodies trapped under the covers in a perfect, lazy simmer. Charles nipped against the bare, scarred spot on Arthur’s chin, dragging his lips through the bristles of Arthur’s beard. Lips tingling, he pressed his mouth against his husband’s ear, taking the lobe between his teeth with a gentle scrape.

Arthur keened, finally freeing an arm from his bindings. He ran his big, warm hand down the smooth skin of Charles’ back, calloused thumb caressing the dimples right at the base of his spine.

“You wanna warm me up, cowboy?” Charles teased, rolling his hips down into Arthur’s lazily. Arthur whined underneath him, free hand groping lower to catch Charles under his thigh, pulling him in tighter.

Charles pressed another kiss to the soft, greying hairs at Arthur’s temple. He cuddled close, lining himself up to Arthur hip to shoulder. He trailed his lips back to the shell of Arthur’s ear, warm breath moist against the skin. 

“Then put the coffee on,” Charles whispered, then stole the rest of the covers as he dove back to his side of the bed, bundling up against the cold. 

Arthur lay beside him, audibly sputtering at his husband’s sudden and completely predictable betrayal. 

“You’re a cruel man, Charles Smith,” Arthur grumbled, struggling free of the single, measly quilt left to him. He huffed, glaring down at the incredibly smug lump of blankets beside him. 

The lump shifted as Charles snugged up tighter in his stolen covers, not deigning to grant Arthur a response. 

Arthur rolled his eyes, resigning himself to properly starting the morning. There was always a chance he’d sneak a little sugar out of his man once the cabin was warm and breakfast was started.

Arthur got up with a groan, slipping his feet into the warm moccasins Charles had sewn up for him three years back. 

He put the coffee on.

[mudisgranapat]

FitnessInfluencer!Reader x GymBro!Ghost

so i’ve recently really gotten into going to the gym and i can’t stop thinking about Ghost working out and reader being an annoying influencer that is always recording at the gym. the last thing he needs is a camera in his face when he is trying to work out and de-compress from his deployment.

After finally finding a 24 hour gym, you get your things ready to film your content. Your youtube channel is one of the most popular nowadays, and it’s the platform where you make most of your videos. Most of them teach people workout series, ranging from stuff they can do at home, hardcore exercises and even a step to step guide on how to use each gym equipment, so newbies don’t get scared of training for the first time by themselves. However, sometimes, you do some vlogging on the side, showing your daily routine and other things, like skincare.

You figure 3 am is a good time to go to the gym and record - no one is at training by then and your schedule is already fucked anyways. Not having an office or regular work hours has its ups and downs, but at least you are in charge of own routine, since you make a surprisingly good amount of money from your videos.

You take your own time, making a protein smoothie (and obvioulsy recording it, as you had a paid partnership with the supplement’s brand) and writing down your ideas for the video you want to do today. You stick to a simple “leg day” vlog, typing on your phone what machines and reps you want to do.

Choosing a simple purple top and matching leggings, you make your way towards the gym on your Range Rover, Stanley cup filled with water on the cup holder. You roll your eyes as you make a turn and can feel the water dripping out of the cup. You make a note to yourself to bring a water bottle the actually works next time and keep it off camera, so the useless cup can just sit on frame for aesthetic purposes while your record.

If you had to point out one thing you hated about your job, it would be having to keep up with all the (in your opinion, useless) trends, so you could reach a bigger audience. At the end of the day, it was about making money, although you loved how your content got to inspire people to be more active. If it meant you had to carry a metal 40oz lead poisoned cup with you for a couple of hours, then so be it.

As soon as you park your car at the gym’s empty parking lot, you pull out your vlog camera, not noticing the single black truck parked in the far corner, under a tree.

Sometimes you wonder if you would hate your “vlog persona” if you met her in real life. Repeating the same phrases over and over again, trying to get the best take, constantly looking for better lighting. What looks good on camera, in real life, just looks painfully awkward sometimes, specially when you are talking to an audience that isn’t even there. You push those thoughts to the back of your head, as you slide your card at the gym’s card reader, opening the doors.

“Anyways, guys. I know it sounds crazy right?” You make your way into the gym, re-recording the introduction at least 3 times so you know you’ll have good material to edit later. “Training at 3 a.m. I don’t even know if it’s technically morning or night right now.” You joke to the camera. “Let me know in the comments if I should start the videos with ‘Good morning’ or ‘Goodni’-“ a hand suddenly grabs the camera from your hand, holding it right above your head. You stare at the man who seemed to materialise out of the shadows.

“How about ‘Goodbye’.” He says, and you barely have time to register his sarcasm as he slams your camera on the floor, breaking it in pieces. You stand there, frozen, while the man swings his duffel bag over his shoulders and heads out of the gym.

When you finally regain your senses, he is long gone, and you’re left wondering to yourself, not only who he is, but also who does he think he is. You barely had time to register what he looked like, simply recalling we was well over 6ft tall and build like a fucking tank. But regardless of his built, if he believes, even for a second, that he can do something like that and just walk away unscathed, he is dead wrong.

You can’t wait to see him again.

A.N: wrote this with my eyes literally closing, but i just couldn’t get it out of my head (sorry for any mistakes, def not proofread). hopefully it’s not complete shit. let me know if you want to see more of this! i could see this becoming either a short series or at least having one more part. Let me know if you want to be tagged if this has a part 2 :)

[cemeteryspider]

DCeased: A New Hope

Dick Grayson x Jean Grey! Pregnant! Reader

Summary: In the midst of a world ravaged by the Anti-Life Equation, a grieving telepathic hero must protect her unborn child and find hope in the remnants of the Bat-Family, while forging a path toward a future worth fighting for.

Trigger Warning: Loss, Grief, Violence, Gore, Emotional Trauma, Pregnancy,

Word Count: 1.7k

Lying on your back, you practiced the deep breathing exercises Leslie Thompkins’ midwives had taught you during your frequent visits, all at Richard's insistence. You complied because you knew this baby would be your and his entire world. So, deep breathing it was. One hand rested just above your belly, the other on your chest, guiding your breaths through your nostrils to raise the hand on your belly and blowing out through your mouth.

You loved that Dick wanted to be near you at every possible moment. However, his constant tossing and turning as you tried to ignore the splitting headache was too much to bear. Eventually, you made him leave the room. That was a while ago. Alfred had just brought you a fresh washcloth for your forehead when you heard a commotion downstairs.

Alfred rushed down immediately at the noise, but it took you a moment to regain your bearings and waddle toward the living room.

At the bottom of the stairs, you froze, staring in shock as your husband, who had been so gentle only an hour ago, was now desperately trying to scratch and bite Alfred and Bruce. Almost out of nowhere, Tim managed to sneak up on Bruce, tearing a chunk out of his arm.

"Dick?" you whispered, frozen in horror as your husband noticed your presence and began to advance toward you.

He was too close for comfort, and it was clear he wasn’t the man you had sent out of your bedroom. One hand instinctively covered your stomach while the other shot into the air, a blue glow holding Nightwing back.

"Run!" Bruce shouted, and as quickly as possible, you bolted down the stairs into the Batcave just as Alfred stabbed both Tim and Dick with a machete—one of the many weapons hidden around Wayne Manor.

You stood behind Alfred and his shotgun, staring into space as Bruce spoke to Superman, discussing his plan to save the world and mentioning something he had for Damian. Before the Man of Steel arrived, Bruce explained to you and Alfred that he wasn’t going to make it, and that Damian, you, and your baby were the future of the family if you couldn’t find the others.

The briefcase in his hand was for Damian, and Alfred was given direct orders to get it to him. You were shocked. You were losing your entire family in the span of a few hours, and it wasn’t even noon yet.

There was nothing to do but watch as, despite Mister Freeze’s suit, Bruce eventually succumbed to the virus coursing through his veins. Alfred ended the call to Damian before shooting Bruce in the head. You turned away, cowering behind Alfred.

Normally, you wouldn’t be afraid of a little blood, but in the past few months, you had slowly started to edge yourself out of the fray. You stopped going on patrol and stopped helping Dick train the Young Justice team, staying behind at the cave doing intel and comms, making sure the Bat-Family would live to fight another day. After all, you were going to be a mother soon, and how could you be out fighting crime at night with a baby at home? If Dick needed to keep fighting, then so be it, but if anything were to happen to him, your baby would still have you.

Now that worst fear is coming true. Dick's lifeless body lies upstairs as you tremble on the ground, unable to keep everyone's thoughts out of your head. That’s when you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder, and you started to come back to reality.

"...breathe, Ms. Grayson, breathe. That’s right, breathe." Alfred was looking you in the eyes, and slowly you returned to the present. You managed to keep all the extra voices in your head out, for the time being.

"Will you be all right, Ms. Grayson?" he asked, truly concerned about your health.

"Yes, thank you, Alfred. I’m better now," you said, taking deep breaths as Alfred walked back into the manor.

He dragged the bodies of Dick, Tim, and Bruce down to the Batcave to say a proper goodbye, with Superman’s help. You knelt beside Dick’s masked body, holding his hand in yours. "How am I going to do this without you, darling?"

A strong hand clasped your shoulder. "It's time to go," Superman said, helping you to your feet. Alfred stood a few feet back, offering his hand to help you into the Batwing. As the jet lifted off the ground, your eyes remained on your dear husband until he finally disappeared from view.

You made it to Metropolis, where the rest of the heroes were gathering with little worry. However, that calm was shattered when an infected Giganta started booming toward the rooftop filled with your allies. Alfred started firing missiles at her while you tried to control her sweeping movements with little success.

After a few missiles, she punched the Batwing out of the air, catapulting you back into your seat as it began hurtling toward the ground. Desperately, Alfred flipped switches and pulled controls, trying to stop the plane’s freefall.

But you took control, enveloping the ship in your familiar blue glow, safely landing it on the roof adjacent to where the surviving members of the Justice League stood.

"Father?" You caught a glimpse of Damian running toward the broken and battered Batwing as Alfred helped you out of the wreckage.

"Damian, I am so sorry, son," was all Alfred could say as he opened the briefcase on the concrete roof.

With sad eyes, he looked up to you. "Dick?"

You shook your head, and in an instant, Damian’s arms were around your shoulders, pulling you into a tight embrace. You held him close, knowing that Dick and Damian had a special bond. Damian was like a little brother to you, and you felt his pain so deeply and sincerely.

"Everything will be all right," you sniffled as he pulled away and went over to Alfred, who showed him what was in the case—a brand new Batman costume, meant for Damian to wear.

You saw Superman and Wonder Woman fly off, and after a shaking boom crumbled the city around you, Black Canary—now Earth’s new Green Lantern—saved the top of the Daily Planet, where the survivors were.

Over the course of the next few days, Wonder Woman, Superman, Superboy, Flash, and Kid Flash severed the internet connection across the entire planet.

After a week, you helped the new Batman, Green Arrow, and Green Lantern get to Gotham unharmed, only to see a massive jungle surrounding what used to be your city.

"Oh, Ivy," you said, running into her arms as soon as you saw her. Your team, the Birds of Prey, had frequently assisted—and been assisted by—Poison Ivy to the point where she was basically a member. When you got pregnant, she made you different tea concoctions to soothe your aching joints and painful migraines.

"Thank the stars," she whispered, holding you closer. "I was afraid that the virus had gotten you too."

"Why’s that?" You worried about what she was going to say because the look on her face was anything but reassuring.

"Catwoman, Huntress, Batgirl, and Batwoman attacked us, Sugar Bear," Harley said, giving you a big hug and looking down at your belly. "I told Auntie Ivy not to worry, that your mama would nevea let anythin’ happen to ya."

You chuckled at Harley—some things never change, even in an apocalypse.

"Pamela, we’re looking for sanctuary for survivors," Damian cut the reunion short, and Ivy barely gave him a second glance.

"Oh, that."

"We’ve already started this conversation."

Ivy eventually agreed, as long as you would stay in her safe haven and that there would be rules and screenings for those who were let in.

You agreed because both Ivy and Damian said it would be safest for you and your baby in Gotham. Which is ironic, seeing as just last week you and Dick were looking at schools outside of the crime-ridden city.

The magically protected jungle would keep anyone who was turned out, therefore keeping everyone safe. You asked Damian to stay as well, but he said the world needed him.

With the strongest hug you could muster, you said goodbye to Damian, who said it wasn’t goodbye, that he would see you again soon.

~~~

You hadn’t expected to see another living member of the Bat-Family until, during a rare moment of sleep, your radio crackled with Ivy's voice.

"Hey, there’s someone here I think you’ll want to see."

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you glanced over at the crib only a few feet away. Your son was sound asleep, his little mouth open, showing off his gums.

A smile tugged at your lips as you carefully placed him in the baby wrap on your chest. His striking icy blue eyes and gummy smile were a perfect reflection of his father. It almost made you laugh. "Come on, hun, I suppose there’s someone we need to see."

Your baby let out a soft laugh, making you smile as you descended the stairs from your apartment to the ground level. Outside, children were running around, listening to Poison Ivy reassure them that they were safe within the confines of her jungle.

Harley waved at you enthusiastically and pointed toward a statue where a man in a brown leather jacket was standing, staring at it.

Your brows furrowed in recognition, and you started walking toward him. "Jason?"

He quickly turned at the sound of your voice, his eyes widening as he saw you with your baby in your arms. "You’re alive?"

Jason approached you cautiously, his gaze fixed on the little one in your arms. "And who might this be?"

His hand brushed against his eyes, wiping away tears that threatened to spill over. "Jason, this is Richard Bruce Grayson. Richard, this is your Uncle Jay."

You carefully slipped your baby out of the wrap and placed him into Jason's stiff arms. At first, he held the child at arm’s length, unsure and hesitant. But when Richard began to giggle and gurgle hysterically, Jason brought him close, holding him tenderly.

"He looks just like him," Jason murmured, his eyes never leaving your baby. "A Boy Wonder. A new hope."

[pineappleciders]

ayo can i request a male (or gn if you prefer) adult reader adopting tweek, butters and kenny? bc i love those kids but they all deserve much better parents than the ones they have in canon.

masc adult reader adopting tweek, butters, and kenny (and a bit of karen)

A/N: i've never gotten to do a male reader b4 so i'm glad you asked!!!! these r kinda separate to keep it simple, also reader is referred to as dad :)

TRIGGER WARNING: SA and abuse mentions, drugs (obviously)

tweek tweak

first things first, you start weaning him off the coffee. you still give him smaller doses for awhile just to keep him stable and with no withdrawal

if you send him to rehab, he'd definitely be a little scared. so you pack his backpack and lunch and pat him on the head and send him off, telling him to text you if he needs anything

he's always coming into your room in the middle of the night gripping his pillow and pulling his hair.

"dad, the gnomes! t-they're back, AGH!"

"tweek, i thought we went over this..."

it can be a little difficult to calm him down sometimes, so you two practice breathing exercises in case you aren't there to help him

he carries around a little card keychain that you made for him with comforting words and grounding techniques. he carries it everywhere and attaches it to his bookbag!!

you put the coffee pods on the highest cupboard shelf so he can't reach them. he hasn't tried to reach them (as far as you're aware)

you try to smooth down his hair and brush it out but it somehow always pops back up. also his hairline is fucked. so are his teeth. he's a little fucked up in every way but you love him anyways

butters stotch

with butters, it's apparent that negative discipline is not the route here. you instead opt to use positive reinforcement when he obeys and does stuff right

you're not a pushover by any means, but you are a lot less strict than his biological parents.

he gets a little confused sometimes when he doesn't get shouted at or blamed for something he didn't do. like he walks in the door expecting to get yelled at but you just hug him and ask how his day at school was

he's really glad he can actually have friends over now. his friends are always commenting on how cool his new dad is compared to his old one

butters has learned to not talk about his trauma and past. he was always taught to bury it deep down and never mention it to anybody. so when he randomly blurts out how his uncle molested him at dinner, he's confused when you look horrified

he loves to play sports in the backyard with you!!! his old dad never really spent time with him, so he has the absolute time of his life playing ball with you. it becomes one of his best core memories

he likes to draw with crayons a lot so he always draws pictures of you and him like under a rainbow or something and you always hang it up on the fridge. you're quickly running out of room for his art

kenny mccormick

as soon as he gets home and you give him the OK to eat he is eating everything in your house

turns out it's really difficult for a 9 year old to properly grow on a diet of frozen waffles and dust bunnies. you're shocked when you're preparing his bath and he's a lot skinnier and shorter than the other kids

honestly if u adopt him then you have to adopt karen too. and kevin if you want. but preferably karen.

nothing makes kenny happier than knowing she's sleeping in a warm bed with a full stomach. it's just a bonus that he is too!!

like butters, he loves to play sports with you. specifically catch and baseball. he also forces you to play barbies with him and do a high-pitched girl voice

loves to fall asleep in your lap/in your arms. like he'll fall asleep mid-piggy back ride and just snore on your shoulder

always flexing on cartman that now that he isn't the poorest kid that cartman is now. cartman hates u for it

always wants a sip of your morning coffee and waits for karen to finish her food before finishing his. it's a force of habit and it's kind of sad but also really sweet

[wheezyseeker99]

Concentrate

Warnings: pining, swearing, grinding, oral and fingering (female receiving), protected sex (fm, shocker ik)

18+, MDNI

Summary: UMich Cam is here because I started writing this during finals and I had intrusive thoughts. Didn’t finish this until tonight after the game (it’s been forever sorry y’all). It’s strangers to friends to lovers.

Happy New Year 🫶🏼

Every mindless day I sit in the library to do my assignments. Today is no different. I don’t even have classes on campus on Monday’s, but I can’t sit at home and do them. It’s too difficult to get anything done there when I’m behind on every chore. Finals are soon and I’m forcefully getting myself through these assignments one by one whether if I like it or not.

I stretch my legs out and shrug my shoulders in attempt to release tension but it doesn’t work. I don’t really talk to classmates or random people so I’ve just been stuck in this bubble all day. Granted, I should be working on this science powerpoint project, but I’m losing my mind. Science is the epitome of evil. Nobody can tell me otherwise. Sitting here with my thoughts and study material is driving me crazy. I need to yap even if it’s only for a minute.

I decide on getting a coffee downstairs at the cafe so I stand and grab my wallet before making my way to the stairs. The walk down from the third floor is always brutal, but I always take the elevator back up. Balance is key when it comes to exercise in college aka walking instead of taking the stairs only sometimes.

I step into the cafe and immediately get hit with a waft of coffee hitting my senses. I like coming in here just for that boost honestly because I already feel more awake. Then my world came crashing down in front of me.

Cute guy.

I see him sometimes on campus, and especially in this building during the week. I know he’s an athlete but I never took the time to look him up on any of the rosters. He walks around here like he owns the place like a commanding presence in every room he’s in. His ginger hair has long under his hat, and he’s wearing sweatpants with a white t-shirt. Simple yet the hottest man I’ve ever seen. He’s at the counter ordering. The older lady behind the register is charmed by him just as much as I am apparently. Whatever he said has her smiling. I get in line behind him, making sure to keep space between us. Goosebumps trail down my arms when I hear him talk

“Thank you Lora, you didn’t have to give me a discount.”

“Anything for our best defenseman,” the lady before handing off the cup to her coworker. “We’re working on your drink. Shouldn’t be more than a couple minutes.”

He flashes his beautiful smile and nods without saying another word. He turns around and looks me up and down for a solid second before walking toward the pickup counter. I feel frozen in my spot as I watch him.

“Next in line.”

I snap out of the spell he put on me and step up to the counter to order my usual seasonal drink. I mumble a thank you and sit down at an empty table facing the pickup counter. Cute guy is still standing and scrolling mindlessly on his phone. I try not to stare at him but I fail terribly. He has more scruff on his face than usual.

“Do I have something on my face?”

My jaw slackens and my eyes go wide. Well shit, I’ve been caught. My mouth opens but I can’t find any words. I clear my throat before trying to speak again.

“No, sorry. I just spaced out for a moment.”

Cute guy walks over and pulls the chair out opposite of me before taking a seat. I stiffen up almost immediately.

“It’s not the first time I’ve seen you look at me, but I’ll take your word for it,” he winks and then smiles again. “So, you come here often?”

I breathe out a laugh. He’s not only cute, but he’s funny. I’m down bad at this point and he’s barely spoken to me.

“Nice way to break the ice. I go to school here just like you.”

“I tried,” he shrugged and reached a hand out. “I’m Cam, by the way.”

“Y/n,” I say and take his hand while locking eyes with his. I try not to focus on how his hands feel but I fail drastically. They have callouses but they’re softer than I thought. We shake hands for as long as possible before our names are called from the counter.

“Well y/n, you and I are going to be best friends.”

.

A few weeks later, Cam and I are sitting in his bedroom at the hockey house. Most people on campus had just finished their finals. I’m studying for my last one that I have to take tomorrow morning in class. I can’t focus though because his roommates don’t know chill if it hit them in the face.

Before I started hanging out here I didn’t know that hockey guys are nerds. His roommates spend most of their time (outside the rink) doing their homework before turning on their gaming consoles. What’s even more hilarious is the fact that they play against each other while staying inside their respective bedrooms. They talk to each other on discord as if they aren’t across the hall from one another. They’re so loud, though. Constantly talking loud into their mics.

“Cameron I can’t focus anymore,” I whine and throw myself back on his bed.

Cam stands from his desk and moves my books to his nightstand, plugging up his and my phones to the charger before laying down next to me.

We’ve gotten more comfortable than I ever expected. I have never laid in a bed with a man that I haven’t dated, but Cam is the exception apparently. He takes off his hat and ruffles his hair. The only thought I have is ‘I want to ruffle it too’. While sitting the hat down on top of my books, he turns off the lamp that was illuminating the room. My eyes barely have time to adjust to the darkness when Cam lays down next to me, placing his arm around my middle. He tugs me into his warm, hard body. It takes me only a second to sink into him.

“Nap with me and stop being stressed out,” he whispers into my hair. “You’re going to ace that final. I know it.”

I breathe out a sigh. The feelings that I had before we officially met are still there on my end, but I can’t tell how he feels about me. He has said that he talks to me more than anyone and that he likes spending time with me. I just can’t believe that he wants me in his life in such an important way in only a few weeks. It doesn’t add up from a romantic standpoint, which is why I keep my mouth shut on the feelings part of our relationship.

“I can hear the gears turning in your head. Turn them off y/n.”

“I can’t,” I turn over and place my head on his chest. I can feel his heart beating steadily.

It feels nice to have a friend like him. One that wants me to take care of myself. It almost makes me feel bad for having romantic feelings for him. It’s the little things he does that comforts me - texting little reminders to do things I have to get done in a day, the invites to his place when I need to get out of my dorm, remembering my coffee order.

“What can I do to help?”

I can feel his warm breath on my forehead as I close my eyes. I bite my lip to stop any words from escaping. I keep my feelings close to my chest and I don’t want to ruin the friendship we have just because I’m tired of holding back. I can’t just say ‘I need you’ and elaborate without involving feelings.

“Just a nap is fine Cam.”

I don’t say anything else. Short and sweet, to the point. I shove my head deeper into his chest and breathe him in for a moment. He smells freshly showered, not like how he usually smells after getting home from the rink. He must’ve taken his time in the shower today.

“Y/n?”

Cam’s lips whisper against my forehead before he places a kiss there. I shiver at the contact. His arm tightens around me, and damn, it feels so good to be this close to him. I hum in reply, not trusting myself to open my mouth.

“You cold?” he asks while raking his fingers through my hair.

I shake my head and take deep breaths. He’s being so gentle. If anything, I feel like my body is on fire. Every touch is sending me spiraling.

“Mm okay,” he whispers unconvincingly. “You can spend the night with me if you want to. I’m not kicking you out any time soon.”

“Thank you,” I mutter back to him.

.

When I wake up, I know it’s the middle of the night. I freeze immediately when I notice the position we’re in. I’m sprawled on top of Cam in the most scandalizing way. My lower half is slotted to his and his hand is resting underneath the waistband of my leggings on my ass. Though he’s wearing thick sweatpants, I can feel his dick through them against my most sensitive area. It takes every ounce of restraint in my body to keep from grinding into him. My clit aches at the thought. I know I’m already wet from the touch I’m receiving. If anything else, I know I’m going to soak my underwear from the thoughts that pop into my head.

I keep my eyes closed and drag my hand up his body to rest next to my head on his chest. Cam lets out a curse under his breath, telling me that he’s awake too. I pretend to be asleep and riskily shuffle only slightly against him to see what would happen. His grip on my ass tightens but his touch leaves as soon as he realized where his hand was. I can’t hold back the whimper that escapes my mouth.

“Fuck y/n. This is killing me,” Cam groans. “Going to come in my pants if that happens again.”

Nope, I’m definitely dreaming. I bite down on the inside of my cheek and force myself to stay still. Right when I thought he might have fallen asleep, his hips rotate into mine. Once and then again before Cam tosses the blankets away from our bodies.

“Fuck,” Cam grunts and places a kiss on my forehead and then my cheek. “Shit baby, I’m sorry I gotta get up. Not getting off on you while you’re asleep.”

I guess I’m good at pretending I’m asleep because he lays me back onto his bed, tucking the blanket over my body while muttering a string of curses before he disappears into his bathroom. I open my eyes when he shuts the door behind him.

Not even a moment later Cam is quietly moaning and I can’t shut my eyes again. I feel like a pervert listening in to his deepest darkest secret. I hear my name and my soul nearly jumped out of my body. I reach a hand down into my underwear and feel the damage Cam has done to me. I toss my head back when my fingers reach my center. I swirl my fingers around, coating my fingers with the wetness he created. My other hand clutched the blanket and removed it from my overheating body. I slip my fingers through my slit, lightly tapping my clit as I go. My ears perk up when I hear Cam’s muffled panting on the other side of the door.

“Going to come, y/n.”

Shit. He’s going to be done soon and I’m making a mess over here on his bed. He’s going to open the door and see me like this. There’s no reasonable way to get out of explaining this to him. I feel my inner monologue start and the panic starts to settle in. My fingers stop working themselves and I slip my hand out of my underwear. My fingers are clearly still coated, but I’m not paying any attention to that.

Just say you were having a dream that made you horny? No that’s stupid.

Be honest with him? At this hour? I’d rather die.

“Y/n?”

My gaze snaps to the door where Cam stood. The bathroom light is still on so I can see that he’s standing there holding his shirt in his hand, looking at me with an expression I’ve never seen him make before.

“Yeah Cam?”

“How much of that did you hear?”

“I didn’t hear anything,” I lie. “I’m going to the bathroom now that you’re out.”

I jump out of the bed and attempt to slip past him into the bathroom, but Cam’s hand clutches my wrist. He lifts it up in front of his face and my knees threaten to buckle. I see his nostrils flare as I swallow the lump in my throat.

“Do you want to lie to me again, y/n?”

I shake my head. His icy blue eyes bore into me.

“You don’t really need to use the bathroom. Do you?”

I shake my head again and advert my gaze away from him.

“Well fuck. I didn’t expect to have this conversation at,” he looks over at his clock, “2:43 in the morning.”

“I’m sorry. I can go home-“ I stutter out but Cam cuts me off.

“You’re not going anywhere. We’re not leaving this room any time soon,” he states. My back connects to the door frame in attempt of keeping me on my feet. Cam isn’t far and his proximity makes my body buzz. He steps in closer, caging me in as he stares down at me.

I allow myself 3 seconds to imagine a life where I had a version of Cam that’s mine. What a glorious life that would be. He releases my wrist and presses his bare chest into my covered body.

Cam tilts my head up. His gaze drops to my mouth, lingering for a moment. Then he leans in closer. I feel his breath against my lips.

I’ve never wanted anything more than this.

His lips are on mine, kissing me slowly. My entire soul is captured in this kiss. I whimper against his lips when he kisses me deeper. Like he wants to take his time but at the same time he can’t get enough. My knees buckle completely at the worst time. Cam’s hands grip my hips and drive me closer into him before I can hit the floor.

When his lips tear from mine his chest is heaving. I’m completely unable to think even slightly. My head is so dizzy.

“Finally,” Cam breathes against my lips before capturing them again.

I’m lost completely in him.

Before I realize what’s happening, I’m being dragged back to the bed. I ignore the swelling in my chest while I tangle my fingers in the hair along his nape. I can’t stop myself from touching him no matter how hard I try. And grinding into him isn’t enough.

I need more.

Cam seems like he needs more too. He desperately pulls at my shirt as his lips leave mine and make their way down my jaw. I whine out his name and he finally disconnects from my body. The warmth leaves my body, making me whimper at the loss of contact.

My eyes flutter open to see Cam standing over me breathing hard. His hair is wild from where I tugged at it and his sweatpants are terrible at hiding his arousal. And God, his chest is incredible. Pale with freckles scattered everywhere, and just the right amount of chest hair. I stop perusing his body to force myself to meet his gaze.

His eyebrows are scrunched together. I reach up and drag my fingers across the creases to flatten them. Cam gently kisses my palm before I can move my hand away. Yeah, my heart is going to explode in my chest.

“We’re doing this?”

His voice is rough and it’s quite frankly the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard. I swallow and finally open my mouth.

“I need you Cam.”

Fingers take a hold on my shirt, dragging it up my body. I anticipate that everything is going to change after this, but I’ve lost the ability to care right now.

Cam is doing these things to you willingly, y/n. Shut up.

I bring my focus back to him when he finally removes my shirt and fumbles with my bralette until it’s removed. His beautiful eyes widen for a moment before he brings his mouth to my chest.

My legs open further for Cam and he slots between them perfectly, pressing further into me. We moan out at the same time once his mouth meets my nipple. His tongue flicks the sensitive peaks and my back arches off the bed. I need more.

I bring my hand up and grasp the back of Cam’s head. I tug his lips away from my body and capture them with mine. His hands don’t stop moving though. I feel his hand go inside my waistband. His calloused fingers meet my core and he tugs his lips away from mine again.

“Tell me what you did when I was in the bathroom y/n.”

Cam’s fingers circle my aching clit and slide through the wetness. His eyes search mine.

“I was awake before you went in there,” I breathed out. “I pretended to be asleep.”

He smirks before driving two fingers into me.

“I did this to you? Made you this wet with just listening to me? You’re fucking soaked.”

I nod and whimper in reply.

“Help me out y/n,” he demands. “Take off your pants. Want to keep my fingers inside you.”

I obey, lifting my hips and drag the fabric of my leggings and underwear. Cam’s other hand clutches the fabric and throws it behind him, leaving me completely bare in front of him.

“Fuck y/n.”

Cam’s fingers move inside me before he lowers his mouth to my clit. He slowly flicks his tongue against me, flattening it to taste my center. He’s taking his time, yet I desperately need him to go faster. My hands fly to his hair in need of holding onto something.

“Please Cam,” I gasp. “Need you inside me.”

“Watch me eat your pretty pussy,” he says between licks. “I���ve dreamed about doing this, and I’m not stopping yet. Lie there and take it.”

My hips buck involuntarily. I feel the pressure building inside me, like I’m about to explode any second. My grip on his hair doesn’t lessen. If anything, I clutch it tighter.

Cam eats me like it’s his last meal. Sucking and licking every part of me. I’m writhing while he explores me. He’s grinding against my leg and I’m shocking he’s torturing himself this long. I never expected Cam to turn into an animal. My thighs attempt to clench around his head, but he shoves them open and sucks harder on my swollen bud. I see stars, moaning and groaning his name over and over until I feel on the brink of what I believe is my death.

“Don’t stop Cam,” I pant out. I barely recognize my own voice at this point. It sounds so raw, I’ll be shocked if his teammates don’t tease us about this in the morning.

“So fucking sweet,” he slurs against my flesh before sliding two fingers into my entrance. I’m clenching around them instantly and I want more. He jacks his fingers into me until I’m shaking. He reached the end of my fuse and I explode against him. He sucks greedily at my clit and continues lapping my core.

This is the most turned on I’ve ever been in my entire life. I’m still dazed when Cam rolls on a condom. I didn’t even notice him taking off his pants. I’m so out of it. When he looks at me laid out before him, he looks more tenderly than he had before we fell to his bed. My thighs spread, inviting him back in. I need him more than I need to breathe right now.

“You’re incredible,” Cam says. He leans down and captures my lips while he positions himself at my entrance. When he takes his lips away from mine the look on his face is determined. Determined to do what is the question. Cam grasps my face and slides his thickened cock into me.

“This changes everything about our friendship. Do you understand?” Cam moans into my ear while sinking deeper into me, “this isn’t just fucking, y/n. This is me wanting to be with you.”

I nod and pull him further into me. My hands push him into me and urge him to move.

“Please,” I beg.

Cam takes the opportunity to pin me down and give it to me. His hips match mine in an ungodly rhythm, the tempo not ceasing. This makes me feel like I’m in heaven and I don’t want it to stop. Ever.

“Fuck baby. I’m sorry I’m being rough,” he grits out.

“No please” I gasp and clench around him, “feel how much I like it?”

Cam nips at my throat and brings his hand up to my throat. He squeezes gently.

“You like it rough? Yeah beautiful?”

I moan out because no words come to mind. I grind myself into him, letting my body take everything he gives to me. Cam lets go of my throat and digs his face into my neck, taking full advantage of his position before pistoning into me relentlessly.

I’m coming before I realize it. I’m scraping my nails down Cam’s back, holding his sweaty skin to mine. I plaster my forehead to his and attach our lips while he rides out his orgasm.

Once he begins to catch his breath, his pace slows.

“Tell me you need me,” Cam’s voice is raw and yeah, that’s the sexist thing I’ve ever heard.

“I need you,” I say back with no hesitation whatsoever. “I need you for everything.”

“You’ve got me. I’m not going anywhere.”

My heart explodes. I know he means it when my eyes meet his. Cam pulls out of me and rolls off the condom, tossing it in the bin next to his nightstand. I take in the creamy skin of his back and how it looks with my nail scratches running down the expanse of it. He lays back down and pulls me to him, skin to skin. His hand cradles my jaw and my eyes meet his for the billionth time tonight.

“I’m yours, you know that right?”

“I know Cam, and I’m yours too.”

He plants a final kiss on my lips and lets out a relieving breath.

“Sleep baby. I’ll wake you in the morning.”

I smile and lay my head down against his warm skin. My fingers mindlessly trace shapes on chest as I close my eyes. I can get used to this.

.

“Cam! Cam! I passed!” I screamed and threw myself onto his bed as soon as I got back from taking my final exam.

After finalizing my exam, my professor went over the answers and I made a better grade than expected. I immediately left from there and came here to find Cam still in bed. His hair is ruffled and he lazily grins at me.

“I told you so,” he says and kisses me gently. “Nap with me. No practice until 3 pm today so we have the rest of the morning to be lazy.”

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” I kiss his cheek and then his lips.

[izvmimi]

cw: reader has a curse that confers disabilities. hurt/comfort. nanami and reader are roommates and friends from high school. pregnancy mention.

your alarm goes off as it does every day, 9 am sharp, and before your eyes creak open, you prepare for the consequences of your actions the night before sucking in a deep breath. the thick sensation in your throat is familiar - the cloud that shrouds your lips is as familiar to you as a sudden, annoying pimple on the morning of a date.

but when you open your eyes and are greeted by nothing but pure darkness, the realization that for once you bit off much more than you could chew sets in, guiding you into a silent scream -

because this time, not just your speech, but your sight is also gone.

your heart thumps frantically in your chest but the rest of you is frozen stiff as you try to comprehend this new reality. the lightless expanse before you is more like an unmoving static when you force yourself to concentrate, and you can still move your eyeballs, you can blink, if you pinched yourself, and you are pretty sure you could cry if you tried, but waving your hand in front of your face gives you nothing. you sit straight up, and exercise the remainder of your muscles, trying to determine the extent of what mirai-shourai took from you this time. you can still move. you can still hear the rustling of your over-starched bedsheets as they rub together and the sound of your work computer humming; you can still feel the edge of your mattress with your fingertips, the soles of your feet planted on the ground as you try to make your way off your bed.

you can still feel your orientation in space.

you try to get up to standing, and you trip over your own two feet. you need to smell something, taste something, make sure that you haven't been deprived of anything else, but you crash to the ground instead, and you find that you can feel that, blooming pain in your face and jaw as you hit the ground instead of breaking your fall, your hand slipping on fuzzy slippers. you can taste blood trickle from your split lip; the thud is loud but you can't call for help.

it's just past 9 am and nanami is probably long gone.

your heart is racing again, panic impending. how long will it be? where is mirai-shourai? it whispers the severity of its punishments usually within just moments of you waking up but you haven't heard any sign of it or the familiar pressure of the spirit (demon really) on your shoulder. will this be forever, you wonder?

the durations of your sanctions have been getting longer recently... but this, being blinded, is new.

it's terrifying to you.

how long can you sit here? you wonder. stumbling around your home until nanami returns from work. what if he decides not to bother you tonight? what if he's preparing for a mission and won't return home? what if your phone rings and you can't find it?

your head spins as you crawl on the floor of your bedroom, your face still stinging and throbbing, until you find the wheels of your desk chair and carefully pull yourself up. you need to sit, and mercifully you make your way onto a chair without further falls, managing to steady yourself, palms pressed to your desk.

the cloud swells in your throat as your anxiety mounts and it gets harder and harder to breathe.

was it worth it?

you think of your friend's smile as you presented her with a sketch of her yet to be born child. electric blue eyes like her father, round cheeks like her sweet mother, deep dimples you could practically stick a finger in - the picture of health and joy.

it was worth it. it was worth it, you tell yourself again. your fingers tent on the desk surface. this too shall pass, this too shall pass, you chant to yourself, and yet the crushing fear is starting to set in.

what if your eyesight never comes back? what if the inability to speak is permanent?

what if, what if, what if-

"___?"

nanami is still here.

you turn, but again you can't see, and you're unsure where your gaze is directed. eyes probably unfocused as you move your head in the source of the sound, you can hear his footsteps approach, soft thumps on hardwood floor. if you call out his name he won't hear you; you have to wait until he reaches you, instead.

the door creaks open, and you can hear him stand still in the entryway. you can practically feel him hold his breath as he takes you in - you must look awful.

he doesn't ask you if you're okay, just moves, and soon, you can feel the roughness of his palms on your face, even if his touch is gentle. you can imagine his perpetually serious look, concern softening the angles of his face.

what if you never see him again either?

"what happened?" he asks.

you sign, i can't see. you can tell your hands shake as you communicate, but try to hold it together. what do my eyes look like kento?

you hear him breathe through his nose, but he's let go of your face by now, and you realize you miss the grounding sensation of another set of hands.

"they look wrong but they're there," he says. his voice is quiet, tense. "how long?"

i don't know.

you can hear his frustration. you wait for him to scold you but he doesn't.

do you have work today? you ask, hopeful.

"when i make a couple of phone calls, i won't."

you swallow, shame starting to consume you before you even ask for his help.

i don't want to inconvenience you.

"you already know i hate that job. you're giving me a reason."

this somehow makes you laugh, and although you make no audible sound, you hope he can tell that you're laughing, but then tears just as quickly stream down your face.

you rub them away and his hands return to cupping your face, thumbs lightly pressed on the space just below your eyes. you imagine he's trying to look at your face, study the curse like he's always tried to, to figure out the answer to your sudden blindness.

i'm sorry, i'm so needy.

"don't be sorry yet, i haven't promised to do anything for you," he hums.

it's true. he hasn't made any promises to you yet. with that statement, you can feel his presence shift.

"what do you want for breakfast?" he asks.

you shake your head, even though your stomach will probably start growling just a few moments from now.

"don't be difficult," he replies. "i'm hungry, make a decision so i don't have to make more than one trip."

yogurt. vanilla, you decide.

he pauses.

"how confident are you that you won't make a mess?" he jokes.

you pout, and you actually hear him chuckle.

"i'll be right back."

---

hours pass. nanami has helped you make your way onto your bed. mirai-shourai has been merciful, and you'll be able to see by the time the sun sets, to speak by tomorrow morning. soft music plays, and you're thinking about the things of the glimpses of the future that you know, and those that you don't know.

your friend's baby will be happy and healthy. you don't know when you doze off until you wake up, and the fact that you still can't sleep is still jarring, but you remember just as quickly that it will be temporary. you are thankful.

hopefully one day you'll be free of this curse, but at least you can dispel the worries of your loved ones in exchange for this inconvenience. for that, you are so, so thankful.

Ken? Are you still here?

he probably is long gone you think, and you are signing to no one, but you can hear him again from your left side, the turn of a book page reminding you of his presence.

"Yes."

something swells in your chest.

thank you for putting up with me.

you can hear him exhale from his nose sharply.

"Where else would I go? it's not like i can't afford to live anywhere else."

you smile, turning to your side and reach out a hand aimlessly. you expect him to ignore it, but you can hear the roll of the wheels of your desk chair, and your hand finds a place to rest on his shoulder, lingering for a moment. your head moves to replace it, and he guides you there in kindness.

you don't have to ask him not to leave.

[wannaeatramyeon]

vasco jake goo and gun having a s/o thats always tired and doesn’t like talking to people in public?

*you can obv ignore this if you want!! i just wanted to rq something because i love ur writing 😭🩷*

Babe I know I sound like a broken record but I truly am sorry for the delay! Thank you for requesting and the kind words!

Lookism with Tired, Introvert S/O hc

G/N. Vasco, Goo, Jake, Gun

Vasco Tabasco

This little cinnamon roll is unfortunately worried about you. A lot. To the point it can get a bit annoying but it is only coming from a place of love. Bear that in mind please before you snap at him and he pulls the saddest face ever.

Introverted he can deal with, to an extent. He doesn't care if you don't like talking to people in public as long as you like talking to him.

You being quiet takes a little getting used to but as long as he knows (and he will over time) that you can speak to him about anything and that you just usually don't have much to say to other people, he really doesn't mind.

Tiredness is a whole other issue that Vasco will try to fix. Sleep schedule, diet, exercise.

Yes yes, you falling asleep on his shoulder and him staying frozen for hours until you finish napping is adorable. Though to be honest, being tired all the time isn't healthy, so it's fair that he does want to figure out why.

If it's stress or school/work pressures, then Burn Knuckles may or may not get wind of this. They also may or may not threaten your teacher/boss to stop working you so hard.

...It works!

But come back and fall asleep on him please. Feel free to use him as a pillow. He absolutely loves it.

Goo Kim

Goo chases adventures, goes wherever his whims and urges take him. This idiot is an energy sapper himself. If you are sleepy and low energy all the time...

Sorry babe. Umm. Good luck with your relationship!

Don't like talking in public though? No fucking problem. Goo talks enough for the both of you. He can handle the conversation if you're not up for it. Don't worry about it!

Arm around your shoulder, tucking you into his side - he'll just talk and talk and talk until the other party is bored. You're welcome, by the way.

But if the other person is really persistent. If they really want to talk to you (and how can Goo blame them, you are a cutie after all), then he'll give one of his warning smiles, glasses glinting.

And if they don't get the hint and still keep talking. Words prodding you for a response, Goo wouldn't mind politely telling them to get fucked.

He'll even throw hands for you, if that's what you want.

...Actually, it doesn't matter. It'll be fun to beat someone up regardless.

"What do you mean Cupcake? No fighting? You want to just go home?" Pouts. "Hmph, fine."

Jake Kim

Jake has charm coming out of his ears. Like Goo, if you don't like talking to other people in public? That's fine. He'll feel you tense, the way you grip his hand slightly tighter and he'll lead the conversation on your behalf.

Unlike Goo, the other person will barely realise what's happening but will enjoy the new steer (Sorry Goo-fy).

After all, not many can resist Jake's smile and appeal. People want to be him AND be with him. That is an undisputed fact.

Before they know it, Jake is waving bye to them, and you and him are on your merry way. The other person doesn't even mind because. Frankly. Jake Kim is fucking cool. "Huh. Maybe I should join Big deal."

Jake is a little worried about how tired you are all the time.

This big fool can barely look after himself but he makes sure that you get a good rest, your home is as stress free as possible, he makes you tasty nutritious meals. What a great malewife. Damn. You are lucky.

The worry is offset by how adorable you are falling asleep on him.

On his shoulder, in his arms, head resting on his lap. Whenever, wherever.

He doesn't even mind your snores or your drool, it makes you all the more endearing to him.

Gun Park

Ok there's a trend here. Gun will also worry about your tiredness.

Seriously, why are you tired all the time? He can't keep an eye on you 24/7 and doesn't want to either. Really, you should take better care of yourself.

In fact, Gun will make a quick call and you are suddenly booked in the next day for a full check up with the best doctor this side of South Korea.

Falling asleep on him was cute and novel the first few times. Especially the way that you're comfortable enough to just relax and drift off with him. It got old pretty quick though.

Gun will bridal carry you to bed and continue on with his day. If you stir awake and ask him to lay down with you? ....Fine. Whatever he wanted to do wasn't that important anyway.

This may or may not be a lie. He always finds it difficult to say no to you.

Don't like talking to people in public? Gun can relate. He doesn't like wasting his breath on nobodies neither.

He has no issue just blanking them and walking away from the conversation, arm around your waist and tugging you away too.

Sure you may feel rude, but you're grateful for Gun's curtness. Both exchanging a small smile as the other person is left gasping at his audacity.

[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

[cosmicobubisi]

Cosmic's Malleyuu Whump vs Flufftober: Day 8

SLEEP DEPRIVATION | forced to stay awake / Chopping & Piling Wood

The light of the moon glinted off of Yuu's axe as they struck the wood again.

The night was frigid, and Yuu felt like the longer they were out here, the more they froze, even with all of the exercise they were doing.

By now, their hands were completely numb, the only sense left being the pain that shot up their wrists with every strike of their axe. The cold had seeped all the way into their bones, and Yuu wasn't sure the blood was even pumping in the tips of their fingertips anymore, frozen in their knitted gloves.

Their stiff fingers rung hollowly against the unforgiving wood, but Yuu knew they couldn't stop. They had a mission, and a person to save.

Despite the cold, Yuu felt their shoulders burn as they lifted the axe again. Sucking in a subzero breath, hoping the cold would keep them alert, they squeezed the handle and swung it forward one last time.

After a sickening moment, Yuu heard the trunk of the tree crackling, and the thin, hardy pole finally went down.

Yuu watched it crash into the snow, branches ricocheting off the ground, and wasted no more time as they picked back up the axe to divide the trunk into smaller chunks.

The change in angle meant gravity was on their side, and Yuu's strikes got a little bit stronger. It was still tedious, difficult work, however, and the weather was only getting worse.

Malleus was getting worse, too.

Examining the partially divided trunk, Yuu realized they weren't going to be able to take all of it with them. Even with the wagon they'd brought, Yuu would have to chop up the rest to ensure it was covered up by the snowfall they were praying for.

Yuu bit their lip, but stopped, tasting blood. Their skin was so dry, any little disturbance split it open.

They got back to work, making sure no branch would poke up high enough to be suspicious. Finally, after arranging the snow a bit to help cover their own tracks, Yuu loaded up their wagon with as many logs as they could take, and started on the long way home.

Their toes had now frozen solid, and, like their hands, all they could feel was how much each step hurt. They tried their best not to drag their way through the snow, in an attempt to minimize their tracks, but thankfully, halfway through their journey, it began snowing.

Unfortunately, with the snow came the wind, and the blades of ice started to cut mercilessly into Yuu.

One of the gusts shoved its way between Yuu and the tail end of their scarf, knocking it off their shoulder and exposing their cheek to the frost-bitten night. They were at the point where Yuu debated angrily in their head for several minutes whether it was worth moving one of their arms, even for a moment, to shove it back into place, and risk losing a buildup of body heat, to allow the flames of their own quarrel to keep them warm.

On snowy nights like these, Yuu didn't even have the moon to guide them, relying on instinct and the painful strain of their eyes searching the darkness.

Yuu didn't know these woods well enough to be able to identify minute changes as markers of direction, but finally, they saw a familiar jagged rock and knew they were headed in the right direction.

Unable to feel the handle of the wagon with their frozen-solid hands, Yuu only noticed it was slipping away when their arm felt lighter. Their hands felt like they were shattering as Yuu flexed their fingers, trying to return to them any level of circulation so they could grab onto the wagon's handle again.

They knew they were so close. Yuu motivated themselves with thoughts of a roaring, sweltering fire, if only they could keep walking.

By the end of that walk, though, the only thing Yuu wanted was a glass of water.

Their throat was unbearably parched, but scooping up the snow from the ground would surely freeze them solid. Still, Yuu's throat felt as though it was parchment on sandpaper, and they hurt just ducking under the rock pass.

Finally, Yuu stumbled into the hiding place they'd found with Malleus- a derelict old cottage whose entrance was inexplicably buried under a tunnel of rocks and boulders.

This meant that, despite its seclusion, it had a chimney, and Yuu scrambled to shove their loot through the front door and find the matches, throwing the logs harshly into the fireplace and lighting a flame.

Yuu lit one of the drier logs, ensuring that the fire began to feed off the wood.

It felt like their tears had frozen out in the wilderness, as Yuu cried with no other prompting into the fire.

A shadow moved in the corner of their eyes, and Yuu knew it was Malleus unfurling as he searched for the heat of the fire.

"Here, let me help you," said Yuu, and shoved his little fainting couch across the rotting floor with a screech towards the fireplace to let Malleus feel the full force of the warmth, letting his body temperature return to something survivable.

The study abroad trip to Krokusand hadn't been going the best so far. Sam's "big summer blowout" deal on the trip had resulted in them going in the dead of Krokusand's notorious winter.

A spell from a vengeful mage looking to avenge her homeland had resulted in the seperation of the study abroad group, but had caused additional unexpected side effects in Malleus- namely, his reversion from mammalian warm-bloodedness to reptilian cold-bloodedness.

It was a near-instant death sentence in a place as cold as this one. Malleus's condition had deteriorated rapidly, unable to survive at such low temperatures for long. Once they'd found the cottage, Malleus had almost drunkenly explained that he feared he was on the verge of brumating, a state in which he fell into a deep sleep to conserve energy.

Malleus explained that he did not know what the consequences of being thrown into brumation so harshly would be on his body, but he knew they would not be good, and so, Yuu was charged with the task of ensuring Malleus state alert.

It would only work for so long. Finally, it became clear that help was not coming fast enough, and Yuu had to plead with Malleus that he would try his hardest to stay awake while they went off in search of firewood.

And, against all odds, they'd been successful. Malleus draped himself across his fainting couch, bunching up his blanket under his head so he could lie more comfortably.

Yuu's hand snaked up to hold onto his as they moved a kettle with half-melted snow closer to the fire, having anticipated the need for water before they'd left.

They knew they had much to discuss, more plans to make, but at the moment, all the pair could do was stare at the fire, and melt into each other.

[meowjaa]

✧ levi having a massive crush on y/n ✧

a/n: some cute little ideas like sort of scenarios BUT I CAN JUST IMAGINE THIS TITLED "levi having a massive crush on y/n for 5 minutes" like one of those type videos but heres a bullet list of those anyways enjoy my loves <33

After seeing Y/N trip over nothing, Levi sarcastically asks if she's ever considered trying out for the ballet.

Y/N catches Levi reorganizing the bookshelf for the third time that week and teases him about what a "fun Saturday night" he's having. Levi says at least his idea of fun doesn't involve belting out 90s pop songs drunkenly at 2am like SOME people…

Levi "subtly" fixes his hair for the fifth time before Y/N arrives and denies doing any such thing when she points it out.

When Y/N stretches and a sliver of her midriff shows, Levi tries and fails to keep his eyes forward, earning a smirk from Y/N.

Y/N finds Levi's search history full of questions like "What does it mean when you can't stop thinking about someone?" and "How to get a girl to notice you."

After Y/N falls asleep on his shoulder during movie night, Levi stays frozen in place long after the movie ends just to keep her there.

Levi "coincidentally" shows up at the cafe where Y/N is studying and claims he had no idea she'd be there.

Y/N jokingly asks Levi to help her move some furniture. He shows up in a full suit and tie wanting to make a good impression.

When Y/N has a girls' night out, Levi not-so-casually asks what she's wearing and who all is going.

Levi visibly tenses when Y/N laughs at another guy's joke, crossing his arms and sulking.

When Y/N gets scared during a horror movie, Levi immediately wraps a protective arm around her without thinking.

Y/N teases Levi for meticulously sorting his book collection by color, author, and genre. Levi retorts that at least he has a system unlike SOME people's messy shelves.

When Y/N comes home with a new haircut, Levi awkwardly compliments it, saying it's "suitable" and "appropriate for your face shape".

Levi not-so-accidentally schedules cleaning sessions whenever he knows Y/N will be exercising in tight leggings and a tank top.

Y/N notices Levi fidgeting to fix his already perfectly straight cravat before their weekly tea time together.

After Y/N beats Levi in training, he spends the rest of the day obviously sulking though he denies doing so.

Levi reorganizes the kitchen cabinets to "maximize efficiency" but really it's just an excuse to be around Y/N more.

When another soldier gets too friendly with Y/N, Levi suddenly needs to discuss urgent "military tactics" with her.

Y/N laughs at Levi's claim that he's ordering a new cleaning supply for "sanitary reasons" when it's the exact brand she mentioned liking recently.

Levi stumbles over his words trying to casually return a handkerchief to Y/N he noticed fell from her pocket earlier.

When Y/N comes back from expeditions outside the walls, Levi does a full inspection of her gear asking about every tiny scratch and scuff.

[clickoly]

New year, old stories to be completed—and three pictures that perfectly sum up this new chapter of Starboys 🏎️ 

Characters belong to @lumosinlove

cw: I'm introducing Vaincre characters from here on, so please read only if you're comfortable with potential spoilers!

Happy New Year ���

The golden boy, the youngest glory

"Ready, Fish?"

With the back of his hand, Finn wiped the cold bead of water tickling the corner of his mouth. The half-empty bottle slipped from his grip and landed upright on the floor, narrowly missing the plastic box where Finn kept his beat-up tennis balls. 

He blinked hard, trying to shake off the fatigue, and stretched out his back. He dabbed at his dripping forehead with the hem of his sweat-stained Puma tank top and rolled his tense neck with a satisfying pop. 

It was a rare occasion when Finn and Alex were in the same place long enough to spend more than a few hours together, let alone an entire morning just for the two of them. 

Back in New York, before Alex went off to college and Finn was selected to race in Formula 2 for the Scuderia Junior Academy, they had settled into a strict routine that Finn used to complain about all the time and now missed immensely. Weekdays began with a 5 a.m. alarm and a run under the early lights of an awakening city—a specific path around the neighborhood that set the tone for their frenetic lives of school, friends, and responsibilities. A path that always included long talks about anything and everything, and quick stops for coffee on the way home—hot when it was cold outside, to warm their frozen fingers; iced when summer mornings brought the sticky heat. 

After two weeks of work at the factory—rushing between testing the latest upgrades, hard training, and repeating race simulations for the three upcoming Grand Prix—it had been a joy to come back to his brother in a place Finn had slowly come to call home. 

That was until Alex had dragged him out of bed at six on a Saturday morning. They had run to the gym, following Finn's usual itinerary along the breezy promenade. Two hours of torturous exercise later—definitely not payback for the early wake-up call—Finn had asked Alex to help him with his reaction drills.

"Your turn," Finn now said, stealing the two lime-colored balls from his brother's hands. 

Alex was about to protest but Finn cut him off. He positioned himself in front of him, legs spread, a tennis ball in each fist, raised to shoulder height. His dark red eyebrows were arched teasingly. "Come on, you always liked it." 

"Fine," Alex grumbled, mirroring Finn's position and slightly bending his knees. His smile hid a hint of nostalgia. "But after this, you owe me breakfast."

"Bagels?" Finn offered.

"Duh," Alex scoffed and made a whole scene of getting into position for the drill, hands outstretched and ready, hovering over Finn's. "Okay, let's do this. How bad could—"

Finn dropped the first ball from his right hand. It fell fast past Alex's grasping hands and hit the floor with a loud bounce. 

"Hey—"

Finn let go of the other. Alex reached out tentatively, but Finn caught it easily with a deft move, quicker than a blink. 

"All right, Flash," Alex exhaled, rolling his annoyed eyes. "You've made your point. Can we go now?" 

"Nope," Finn laughed. "One more." 

He knew he was foolishly lingering, as impatient and excited as he was probably more than a little worried. But he could wait a little longer, just in case—at least until Alex finally caught the small ball and aimed it threateningly at Finn’s head. 

In moments like this, though, Finn was sure there was nothing to worry about.

They headed back to Finn's apartment, pretending to get in one last jog, but quietly settling for a brisk walk, discussing serious business under the faint October sun. 

What do you mean, Al? Of course the Rangers have the best goalie tandem in the league. 

It was half past ten by the time Alex sat on a stool at the kitchen counter, his hair a damp mess from the shower, and eyed Finn skeptically. "Are you making breakfast?"

Finn didn't look up from where he was carefully halving a sesame bagel. "If I told you where these came from, you wouldn't believe me." 

"Hmm, let me guess," Alex laughed. "Was it Mom's or Dad's idea?"

"Both?" Finn guessed. He went to the fridge for smoked salmon and cream cheese. "I said once that I was craving those bagels from that place down the street…" 

"Oh, no..."

"Uh-huh," Finn chuckled, turning back to the kitchen island. "I mean, it's not like I can cook anything else, but—it was a whole mom’s I’m-just-sending-you-a-few-things sized box, and now the refrigerator is completely stuffed."

Alex hummed quietly in response—too quietly. He leaned over the counter, letting his head collapse into his hand. He picked up a fork and stole an uneven slice of tomato from the cutting board, giving Finn a funny look all the while.

"What is it?" Finn asked cautiously. 

Alex shrugged and took a bite of the tomato. "Just waiting," he mumbled between chews. 

"For?" 

"Breakfast," Alex shot back when he caught Finn's suspicious look. "Oh, and for you to tell me why you're so jumpy today," he said around another bite. 

Finn couldn't hide how desperately he'd hoped Alex would understand. 

"Or, let's say..." At that, Finn was already laughing. "Whose second toothbrush might be in your bathroom, for example."

Busted. Finn smiled brightly. "She told you, didn't she?" 

"Not exactly." Alex's voice wavered between guarded and uncontainable. "She texted me, 'You owe me fifty bucks,' and when I asked her why, she said I should ask you." 

"You're both crazy," Finn snorted, then zeroed in on what Alex had just said. "Wait, you two bet on us? On your own siblings?"

"No—no. I mean," Alex rubbed a hand over the rising blush on his face. "It started as a joke and... you know Noelle. She was dying for me to know, but..." Finn saw Alex, always the journalist, choosing his words carefully. "Is it true though? Has it finally happened?" 

"Finally—" 

"Come on, Fish," Alex grunted.

Finn set the knife aside and sank onto a stool. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting out a carefree laugh, somehow in disbelief. 

"It's true," he said quietly, watching with a lump in his throat as a sparkle of excitement lit up Alex's eyes. "We finally admitted that we—uh…"

"Are insanely in love with each other? This is shocking news to me—Finn!” Alex cackled as Finn threw a handful of capers at him. He stood up and stretched out his arms. "Come here, you idiot."

Finn stumbled towards him. How was he supposed to tell him how grateful he was? Alex’s hug was comfort, security in uncertainty. To Finn, having his brother by his side, supporting him every step of the way—it meant everything, far more than he could ever begin to say. 

There were sudden, burning tears in his eyes—happy tears. And when Alex pulled back to ruffle his hair, Finn let them fall.

"Al..." his voice dropped to a whisper. "You think..." this is okay? Tell me it's okay. Am I allowed?

"You're okay, bud," Alex looked at him so proudly that Finn suddenly felt ten times lighter. "I'm so happy for you, you have no idea," Alex laughed giddily, voice cracking with emotion. "And I'm here for you, you know? We are, for both of you." He grabbed Finn's shoulders and squeezed them tightly. 

"I'm..." Finn paused hesitantly. His thoughts raced back to Alex and Kasey—the injury, their sudden reunion after a long, odd silence. He had wanted to ask for a while, but hadn't known how. "I'm here for you, too. Okay?" He wiped at his own wet cheeks. "Anytime." 

The frowny smile he got back, the quick nod... Maybe Alex wasn't quite ready. 

"Thanks," was all he managed to say. So Finn padded silently back to his cooking station with what he hoped was a reassuring smile. 

"Capers?" Finn asked then, busying himself again. He had his eyes on the food, but couldn't have missed the relieved look on his brother's face when he shot back a cheerful, "You know it.

The rest of the morning flew by. Around lunchtime, they found themselves sprawled out on the couch, scrolling through social media and the latest motorsports news. A classic. It was an old habit of Alex’s—diving into the gossipy side of sports journalism was actually part of his job. Years ago, they would spend hours like this in one of their bedrooms. Slow weekends, hot chocolate, just sniffing around this much-dreamed-of world that had felt far away at the time—fantasies of one day, maybe. 

Now their names made front pages, and Finn's face graced magazine covers more often than not—cars, watches, fashion advertisements. Alex's signature was quiet beneath his pieces, yet striking, powerful, respected. Sometimes Finn wished he could stay as silent and just be. No more trending hashtags, no more crazy made-up theories about his love life every time he was spotted walking less than two feet from a woman. No more crowds waiting for him outside restaurants—places he knew would be perfect nooks for unforgettable date nights. 

That one small, family-run restaurant in Cap D'Ail, a spot of white, light browns and strings of warm, soft lights floating in the air, gently swaying with the sea breeze that swirled around the terrace. Built on a cliff, intimate, framed by crystal clear water and the infinite hues of the night. The perfect setting for Logan's green eyes to shine and...

"Does Leo know?" Alex piped up. 

Leo. Leo's stunning blue eyes.

Finn's head snapped to Alex. "What?"

"About you and Tremz," he said, slowly pushing himself up against the cushion. He flipped the phone in his hands a few times before adding, "You're always together these days...the three of you," and glancing past Finn, through the picture window. 

The question fell out of the blue, so close to Finn's wandering thoughts that it startled him.

"He doesn't," Finn shook his head—an imperceptible nod, more to himself than anything. Something heavy sank deep into his core. Was it guilt? 

"We—me and Lo, we... haven't talked about it yet. We were just thinking about telling you," he admitted. "You, Noelle, Aubrey, Syd. Our parents..." 

Alex looked at him with curious eyes, a warm mirror reflection. 

"But?" He prompted. Maybe he'd heard the unspoken words Finn was struggling to put together. And when he didn't answer, Alex pushed their elbows together. 

"You can tell me, Fish," he blinked, offering him the safest of smiles. 

Finn's phone buzzed where it lay unlocked on his thigh, giving him an unfairly convenient excuse to catch his breath before what felt like an imminent free fall. 

He got a picture from Logan, a blurry shot of a bookshop window, the one Logan always took him to whenever they set foot in London together. But when a second picture popped up in the chat, Finn's heart did a complicated thing. At the sight of Logan's carefree smile, it fluttered in his chest. At Leo's matching grin, it began to race wildly. Where their cheeks were pressed together under layers of hats, hoods and dark sunglasses, Finn's heart settled peacefully. And then a bitter note of jealousy struck when he realized—did you two just go to Hatchards without me?? he typed frantically. 

Logan's reply was immediate: 

Got lots of books and stuff for you

Wait Leo says not to tell you

It's a surprise

<3

"Oh my God, look at you," Alex laughed loudly next to him—at him. "You're hopeless." 

"Shut up," Finn muttered under his breath, suddenly embarrassed. His nervous fingers went to scratching the heavy stubble on his white-hot cheeks. 

He looked at Alex again, willing himself to say something, anything. But his brother beat him to the word, once again.  

"My next trip is in a month," Alex said. He was worrying the inside of his lips, his eyes unfocused. He was nervous too, Finn realized. "I'll stay here in Monaco for a while. At least while you guys are overseas..." 

Finn stayed still and just listened. 

"I can't let Nat go back and forth for three weeks in a row, and Kasey has rehab and doctor's appointments every other day, so... yeah," he looked back at Finn and gave a sharp nod. "It's been three weeks, but... they've been really, really good." Alex smiled, genuinely and sincerely. "And I tried to get out of the way, you know? I didn't want to... overstay my welcome or, like, intrude or anything..." 

Again, the one thought that kept running through Finn's mind came up. "Have you ever... felt like that?" 

"Never," Alex shook his head. "Not even once, and... I understand if you're worried that Leo might say something—"

It was Finn's time to nod in disagreement. "I trust him," he said. "I know we both do." 

How could they not? 

"Then let him in. Let him choose. Maybe he doesn't want to lose you as much as you don't want to lose him." 

—

Finn's flight was scheduled for the next day at five and, quite surprisingly, his suitcases were already packed and waiting by the front door. He wasn't really looking forward to the long trip, especially now that Kasey, Logan and Leo couldn't be with him. At Silver's request, Logan had to stay in Silverstone and travel with his team, while Finn's new teammate, Kasey's temporary replacement, had flown to Austin early to meet his family.  

After Alex had left, Finn had taken some time to let the day sink in. He'd FaceTimed his parents while he cleaned up the mess he and Alex had left in the kitchen, and then got ready for an early night. But as the sky grew darker and only a faint golden light filled the living room, Finn found himself still on hold, unconsciously waiting for that one call that had kept distance less far, less lonely, for so long. Nights of rambling and rants about busy days, sharing thoughts, opinions and advice about everything that was going on in two so similar, so far apart lives. 

Logan's voice, his carefree laughs at Finn's silly jokes, even in those weeks that always felt like a race against time—those moments had always been a calming anchor. And somehow they had gotten even better lately, when blue eyes and dimpled smiles showed up more often than not on the same blurry screen, between cooking dinner for two, sharing books reviews, and seriously, Harzy, where do you even find the patience with this one? He's so annoying, just to hear Logan's offended gasps next to him.  

Finn waited, socked feet on the coffee table and book in hand, under the warm, yellowish light of the reading lamp by the couch. He sank into chapter after chapter of a fantastical word—a novel Leo had lent him—until the insistent growling of his stomach became too distracting to ignore, calling for a quick take-out.

He scrolled through EatIn for a good five minutes. The notification of a message flashed across the top of the dim phone screen—a text from Kuny in the drivers' group chat, on top of five new emails and a pending software update. No call, no reply to his last text to Logan, left on read a few hours earlier. 

Finally, Finn placed his usual sushi order and went back to reading, tossing the phone and his troublesome thoughts aside, just as the doorbell rang—once, twice, three times. 

"Coming," he called, wondering who the front desk had let through when he wasn't expecting visitors. But any concern was quickly silenced as he swung the door open. 

"Sushi delivery," said a beaming Leo, whose blond curls poked out of a black Silver Racing cap. He held up a handful of bags from Finn's favorite downtown Japanese restaurant. 

"That was quick," Finn blurted out without thinking, gaping at the bags. 

And then a soft snort brought his eyes up to two hilariously perplexed faces. "What?" 

What? "Oh," Finn realized he was still staring, dumbfounded. "Hi—I mean, hi," he laughed at his high-pitched, surprised squeak, and almost leapt at Leo, looping his arms around his neck in a tight hug. 

"Our dinner—" Leo tried to warn him between sweet chuckles, holding the bags out to Logan, who, Finn noticed, was delightfully looking at them with his head tilted to the side. 

"How... what are you doing here?" Finn asked, pulling away from Leo's warm embrace. 

"We brought you dinner, obviously," Leo said with a scoff, as if Finn had just asked something stupid. 

"And presents," Logan lifted an off-white tote bag that seemed quite heavy even in his strong hands. The green embroidered logo on the front read Hatchards Books. 

"As if you hadn't told him already," Leo drawled as he shot Logan a knowing look. 

A devilish, very bite-able grin painted Logan's full lips, a little chapped from the English bitter cold, begging to be kissed better. 

"You're so predictable, Lo," Finn snorted, reluctantly looking away and finally letting them in.

Logan blatantly ignored them, swatting Finn's ass with his bags on the way in. He waited for him as he locked the door and handed Finn the food with a sharp look and a soft whisper. 

"Dinner upstairs?" 

Ten short steps led from the living room balcony to what had once been a bare, spacious roof deck. The moment Finn had signed the papers to buy the attic, his father's keen eye and expert touch had redesigned it into a private sky lounge, a little gem overlooking the beating heart of Monte-Carlo and the features of a boundless coastline. 

Finn turned on the patio heater. Its warmth added to the cozy atmosphere, blending with the light beige color of the lounge chairs and sectional sofa, and the wood accents of a large coffee table where Logan had chaotically placed three sets of chopsticks, along with a bottle of white wine, glasses, and various boxes of delicious-looking treats—all Finn's favorites, it seemed. 

The outdoor lights were dim, allowing a few faint stars to twinkle high above their heads despite the city's harsh reflections. Finn caught Leo standing next to the glass railing with his nose tilted skyward and a star-struck smile lighting up his peaceful face. 

"I'd run for the dumplings," Finn said as he joined him, "if you want a chance with that one around." 

They both turned in time to catch Logan red-handed with half a gyoza dangling from his mouth. 

"Quoi?" he munch-mumbled. "I'm hungry!" 

Their laughter blossomed in unison, louder to Finn's ears than the rumble of the plane passing low overhead, and the hum of traffic below.

Logan's green eyes, dark in the faint light of the night, narrowed on them. 

"So very predictable, indeed," Leo said as Finn gently led him to the table. His hand wavered on the small of Leo's back, tentative—until Logan flashed him a mindful look that sent goosebumps up Finn's arms. 

"Whose team are you on, Knut?" Logan teased, making room for Leo on the sofa as Finn took one of the loungers. 

"I'm afraid I'm legally obligated to say yours." Leo stretched one arm out over the back cushion, putting on a thoughtful expression. "Something about a non-compete clause in my contract, I'm not sure. Besides," he turned to Finn, nose wrinkled around a fine sheen, "my mama would probably disown me if I said otherwise..."

"Ha!" Logan pointed a mocking finger at Finn.  

"...but my dad, on the other hand..."

"Excuse you, I'm right here—" 

"Oh, no, no, no," Leo tutted. "We're not going there, nuh-uh. I hear enough bickering from those two. Feel free to discuss the matter with my parents next weekend."

"Are they coming to the race?" Finn asked.

"Yeah," Leo's smile grew so wide it must have hurt. "Haven't seen them in a while... and the U.S. Grand Prix is sort of a family tradition. Only this time..."

"You won't be on the stands," Logan said softly.

"Pretty special, huh?" Finn felt the hook of Logan's telltale gaze as their eyes met—he’s sweet. 

"Three days Paddock pass-special," Leo nodded, and Logan whistled low under his breath, drawing a contagious laugh from both of them. 

"I really don't know how they're gonna react when they meet you." Leo's ocean blue eyes were lost in the night sky, then suddenly hesitant as he spoke again, "Only if you... um, want to... of course." 

Finn peeked back at Logan, who nodded briefly. There was still so much they could do for him. But for now, Finn was having fun. He crossed his arms and tipped his chin up in a very well practiced offended frown.

"I don't see why," he said in a low voice. "It's not like I'm everyone's favorite around here." 

"Are you kidding—" Leo started just as Logan whispered, "He likes all the attention," loud enough for Finn to hear. 

Leo kicked him in the shin with one of his long legs and snorted a laugh, "Wait till you meet Wyatt Knut. Oh, I know he's gonna lose it." 

With burning cheeks, Finn crossed his legs on the soft cushion and grabbed a pillow for his lap. "Well," he picked up a box from the table and his chopsticks. "Let's hope the rookie doesn't steal my scene then." 

"Oh, right," Logan said, casually stealing a salmon nigiri from Leo's plate. "Who's filling in for Kase?" 

"Oh?" Finn frowned in confusion. "I thought the news was out. The team decided to give our junior driver a chance."

It was almost imperceptible, but Finn was sure Leo lost a little color in his face around a hard swallow. He reached for his glass and took a small sip of the bubbling wine Logan had poured for them.

"Really?" Logan sounded surprised. "Isn't Archer running in F2?" 

"He's twenty-something points off the lead," Finn pointed out. "And his next race is Abu Dhabi. He might as well take a shot at this instead." 

"Sorry, guys," Leo got up from the couch. "I need to use the bathroom. Be right back," he murmured before hurrying to the stairs. 

Finn shifted just in time to see Leo disappear into the house. "Is he okay?" 

"You're such a worrier, mon cœur."

Finn's eyes followed the sound of Logan's soothing voice. "I know..." 

"I missed you," Logan whispered, and warmth spread through Finn's veins, chasing away the brisk cold on his skin. 

"I missed you too, baby. This is the best surprise ever." 

"Couldn't wait until Monday," Logan's jaw twitched around a gentle smile. "And... we both kind of needed a breath of fresh air." 

"Huh? What's going on?" 

Logan shook his head, lips pressed into a hard line. "Silver's dropping the bomb about the Blacks and the partnership deal. Tomorrow. Press is going to be all over it..." 

Finn leaned forward, elbows on his knees. One hand moved up to pinch his lips, to rub his jaw. He sucked in a lungful of air. "'What'd Sirius say?"

"He thinks we can divert any unwanted attention with the reveal of the special livery."

"And what about you two?" 

"Leo should be fine, I think... And I promised not to curse at reporters this time." Logan's faint smile turned mischievous. "And to make it to Sunday without getting fined by the FIA." 

Finn dug his thumb and forefinger into his eyes. "It's going to be one of those weekends, huh?" 

"Ugh," Logan groaned just as desperately. "I really don't want to think about it." He took his glass from the table and tipped it to Finn, eyes growing soft, finally seeming to relax, but still tinged with concern. "At least I got you, non?"

Finn followed suit, raising his own glass in a silent toast. "Always, baby." 

—

The Circuit of the Americas lived up to every driver's expectations. Finn was no stranger to the demanding, yet satisfying feeling of piecing together the perfect lap between steep uphills, tight hairpins and sequences of fast, flowing corners. Nor was he unfamiliar with the energy, the wild atmosphere that usually painted the entire weekend in shades of red, blue and white stars. From the grandstands and garages to the decorated run-offs of the track, everything mirrored the Lone Star flag waving proudly near the crest of the Turn 1 hill.  

That's how Finn found himself walking around the paddock on Thursday morning in a bright red t-shirt and blue jeans, struggling to adjust the cowboy hat perched on top of his misbehaving hair. It was a bit of a cliché, a tradition of the United States Grand Prix that everyone had embraced over the years—including a rather amused Remus Lupin, who was busy chatting with Lily Evans by the team hospitality entrance. 

"Look who finally made it to work," Remus sneered when he saw Finn coming.

"Blah blah blah. I missed you too, Loops," Finn said, sidestepping to hug Lily instead. "What's up, Lils?" 

"Looking good, O'Hara," she said, tipping the wide brim of her velvet camel hat. It matched Remus', sitting perfectly on his sandy blond hair.

"What are you two up to?" 

"Gossiping, mostly," Lily said, beaming with faux innocence. "Oh, and technically looking for my husband. I kind of lost him between breakfast and the five minutes I was in the shower." 

"Sirius left early too," Remus began, stumbling over his words as a faint blush crept to the tips of his ears. "I think—he… uh. He texted me pretty early, yeah." 

"Right," Finn said. He watched unconvinced as Lily failed, rather spectacularly, to hide a wicked grin. "Any sign of Logan? Leo?"

Logan had snuck out of Finn's room at dawn with a thousand kisses and the promise of more cuddles later that night, but no further explanation. 

"Haven't seen them around." Remus shrugged, "But the event starts in..." He checked his watch. "About fifteen minutes. Maybe they're already at the Paddock Club or—"

"Holy—shit," Lily's voice dropped to a breathless whisper, her green eyes wide.

Finn and Remus turned in sync to… quite the view.

"Did you... did you know about this?" Finn thought he heard Remus ask. To whom, he couldn't say.

Now Finn would have answered, if words hadn't deserted him. If the deeply unbuttoned shirt that fit Logan's shoulders under a fringed green vest hadn't been too distracting. Or the denim jacket and light blue bandana tied softly around Leo's neck, perfectly framing his sharp lines—a sliver of sunshine in a bright, cloudless sky. Leather boots, belts, and wide-brimmed brown hats completed the look of the four Silver boys as they casually strutted toward them. 

A wave of searing heat spread from Finn's chest to his hips, slowly burning him from the inside out. 

"Howdy," James greeted in first—washed denim jeans and a bad impression of a Southern accent. He swooped in to pull an awe-struck Lily into a hard kiss. 

Behind him, Sirius, Logan, and Leo were quiet, looking somewhat embarrassed, confident, and resigned at the same time. 

"Well, hello, cowboys," Lily laughed, her eyes flitting curiously between them. "Anyone care to explain?" 

Finn had to glance at Remus then, who was also uncharacteristically silent. Their eyes met briefly and they both pretended they didn't look like someone had just slapped them hard in the face. 

Sirius was the first to speak. Finn dared a closer look at Logan and then at Leo, eyebrows arching in interest at their twin smirks. 

"A special livery requires special attire, doesn't it?" Sirius began tentatively, as if trying to convince himself. He pointed his thumbs at his loose black shirt. 

"And, oh-so-casually," James spun around to show off his outfit, "we have a Hugo Boss collab to rock."

"And press to distract, apparently..." Leo added, crossing his arms and ankles in one elegant motion.

Very, very distracting indeed, thank you.

Logan pasted on his fakest smile. "Oh, and I'm retiring by the end of the season—ow!” he grunted a laugh as Leo flicked the back of his head. "Knutty."

It struck him then, unbidden and consuming. A lightning bolt from the bluest of skies. An electric spike swept over Finn's entire body, this time tightening his chest. It was undeniable how Logan and Leo glowed next to each other. Whether it was on track, with Leo's firm voice listing strict instructions in Logan's ears. At night, sitting at a kitchen table, miles away from Finn, telling him bits and pieces of their days. And here, in the middle of a semi-desert paddock, dressed in glamour for no sensible reason at all—those two shone like the brightest stars in the firmament before Finn's eyes. 

Suddenly, Finn longed to feel how Leo so beautifully coaxed that rare bliss out of Logan, carefree laughs and heart-melting smiles that Finn knew were private, exclusive. Breaths he'd kissed from his mouth, yearned for and cherished. And intriguing tastes that Finn now secretly craved. 

The most perfectly complicated knot of feelings.

"Fish?" Logan's touch was warm on his forearm. 

"Yeah?" 

"See you later?" 

Finn could only nod, blinded by forest green and cornflower blue and the pungent scent of two perfectly layered colognes. 

They all left, Lily in tow, snuggled between James' and Sirius' arms, abandoning Finn and Remus in a deafening silence that grew louder with every stray, passing voice.

"We should..." Remus cleared his throat. 

"Yep, yeah." 

"Okay. Harz," he muttered, his words muffled as he dragged a hand across his face. "You're off to... Sky Sports and Viaplay. Flash interviews. Then we're doing the track walk together." 

"Always so romantic, Loops," Finn casually threw an arm around Remus' shoulders. "Hey, you know who's up for the drivers' press conference?" 

"They want the new guy. You're boring old stuff, my friend."

"Damn," Finn sighed. "Not complaining, but... ouch." 

"It's the circle of life." Remus elbowed him playfully before looking up with a small, knowing smile—subtle. "We're screwed, huh?"

"Oh man," Finn huffed out a loud laugh. "Aren't we?" 

—

"Espresso." 

Natalie's voice broke the early morning quiet of the team's hospitality lounge. 

"Macchiato," she groaned, flopping into an armchair in the coffee area where Finn was busy topping his cappuccino with cinnamon. "And make it double, please, and thank you." 

Finn's free hand snapped to his forehead in an over-the-top salute. "Yes, ma'am." 

"Fucking jet lag."

Finn grabbed a cup and started the coffee machine. "Up all night again?"

"I think I slept... like eight hours in three days."

"Yikes," Finn winced. He let a cloud of foamed milk swirl into the dark, fragrant brew, then sprinkled some cocoa powder on top. "This calls for extra sugar." 

"Definitely," she mumbled.

Finn set the steaming cup on a saucer. He placed it on a small tray along with a teaspoon, a tiny basket of sugar packets, and a couple of warm, buttery mini croissants. 

"There you go." He laid the tray on the glass table in front of her and sank into the nearest armchair. 

"Wow, Freckle," Natalie marveled dozily, her words fading into a drawn-out yawn. "Five-star treatment."

"Seems much needed," Finn scrunched his nose as he reached for his own coffee. 

"You and me both." She pointed between their faces, clearly noting the purple circles under his eyes. "What's keeping you up?" 

"No clue," Finn lied, and Natalie shot him a look. 

"You really think," she paused to take a small sip of coffee, unfazed. "You can hide something from me, of all people?" 

Finn couldn't help the small, wry smile that twitched his lips. "You'd be surprised," he murmured around the rim of his cup.

"What was that?" 

"Nothing," he blurted, unable to escape her inquisitive gaze. "I guess I'm just worried, that's all."

"Hm. And does that have anything to do with a certain hot-tempered brunet? Say, someone throwing threatening death glares at anyone with a microphone within a mile radius?"  

"That's overprotective Logan Tremblay to you."

Finn omitted the details, of course. The past couple of nights spent with Logan curled up in his arms—a bundle of nerves. Jaw clenched, teeth gritted, falling asleep as morning light spilled through the window, voiceless and exhausted, with Finn's fingers still tangled in his hair, a familiar touch to hold on to. 

"Is this about the—" Natalie air quoted, "—Black Gate? The cowboy thing didn't work out?" 

Finn nodded briefly, utterly drained. 

"Damage control for Sirius' sake." He shook his clouded head. "But of course everyone is hungry for more. It's a pretty big deal, the Blacks leaving Silver. Who would believe the sudden 'mutual decision' to end a ten-year partnership?" 

"As if it was anyone else's business." 

"And all forgotten by Monday, as usual. But in the meantime we're stuck with a couple of mad drivers in full guard mode." 

Finn's fingers tapped nervously on the cooling ceramic of the cup, restless. "And then... there's Leo."

Out of his sunny, always catching energy. 

"Leo?" 

"He seems a little... stressed. I don't know."

Tired, maybe. Shadowed by a veil of worry that Finn couldn't chalk up to pressing media attention alone. 

"I just wish there was something I could do to help."

Natalie studied him for a long moment, her brown eyes sweeping across his face. Finn saw the ghost of a wistful smile when she clicked her tongue. "There's something special about you O'Haras, huh?" 

It startled a small laugh out of Finn, warm and incredulous. "I'm not sure where that comes from, but I'll take it as a compliment." 

The front door cracked open. It caught their attention, revealing a bright, fresh face in the doorway. 

"Buongiorno!" Jack Archer chanted in thickly accented Italian. He walked in, proudly wearing his brand new team uniform, complete with a red baseball cap flipped backward over his dark hair.

"Look at you go," Finn held out his arm for a quick fist bump. "Already embracing the team culture."

Natalie simply waved a hand. "Morning, baby rookie."

Archer smiled back at her as he leaned against the counter. "How's Kasey?"

"Oh, he's annoying me, so... way much better." 

"Bet he wanted to come," he quipped. 

"Ha. He tried to talk me into coming once or twice, but..." She took a steadying breath, then looked at Finn with such gentle, guarded fierceness that left him speechless. "I know for sure I left him in very, very good hands."

Jack nodded sympathetically, looking between them. "Glad to hear that."

"How about you?" Finn jumped in. "Ready for today?" 

It was Archer's first ever Formula One qualifying. Finn remembered how emotional that felt—the fervent, uncontainable energy, the anticipation, and the urgency to prove yourself worthy of the privilege of sitting in such a prestigious spot. He could see the same thrill glinting in Jack's blue eyes.

"So ready," he laughed, bouncing a little on his feet. "But hey, I wouldn't mind some good advice."

"Anytime. Actually, we can..." Finn began, pulling the phone out of his pocket. "Okay, I have to be somewhere in... shit, well, ten minutes ago, but," he stood up and patted Archer on the shoulder, already poised to sprint out. "Catch you before FP3?"

"Yeah, totally," Jack's eyes lit up. "Thanks, man."

"O'Hara," Natalie called. Finn had barely taken a step toward the door. "Are you sure you're not forgetting anything?"

"Jesus," Finn did a double take and grabbed the envelope she held out between her manicured fingers. "What would I do without you?"

Natalie rolled her eyes, the outline of a wry smile curling her full lips. "Get out of here."

The paddock was alive, too loud and too hot for mid-fall Saturday morning. Finn had to stop a few times for autographs, pictures and good luck wishes before he finally made it to the Silver Hospitality forecourt. 

Leo spotted him in the distance and waved cheerfully. He looked better than he had all week, his eyes less somber, though still too weary for Finn's liking. But it was a welcome sight that somehow helped Finn calm his nerves. 

Leo was holding a blonde woman close to him, chatting excitedly with a slightly embarrassed Logan. A tall, also blond man stood at their side. The fine features the three of them shared were unmistakable. 

As it turned out, Eloise and Wyatt Knut were exactly as Leo had described them, a force of nature brimming with energy, high spirits and unbelievable kindness—traits Finn had long recognized in their son. 

Leo had his mother's eyes and her same sharp wit. Finn had soon found himself wrapped in a motherly hug, warm and loving, as Eloise thanked him over and over for no particular reason. Though she didn't miss the chance to slip in a cheeky remark about him racing for the wrong team—you should really consider moving to Silver, honey. The three of you would make the best team out there—coloring Leo's light skin several shades of red. 

Wyatt Knut was just as energetic, though a little more reserved. Finn could tell by the way he'd squeezed his hand in his own that he was holding back his excitement, while his well-worn Scuderia cap spoke volumes. 

Finn and Logan had planned to surprise them upon their arrival on Friday, but by the time they had finished debriefing after the free practice, Leo had essentially kidnapped his parents and disappeared. He was glad, though, if Leo's better mood had anything to do with it. 

Now, between conversations, Finn noticed Logan eyeing the envelope in his hands and nodding his head in encouragement. 

"Boys," Eloise said with an angelic smile, "we shouldn't keep you any longer, I'm sure you're quite busy." 

"Actually, Mrs. Knut—"

"Finn, please. It's Eloise for you." 

"Right," Finn chuckled, rubbing a hand over his neck as he sought Logan's eyes for support. "Well, these are for you," he opened the envelope Natalie had secured for him and pulled out two golden VIP passes. 

"Guys..." Leo breathed, his startled gaze bouncing between them. 

"Consider yourselves our guests of honor," Logan said. "For a full race weekend experience. You can do the grid walk on Sunday if you'd like. And watch all the sessions from our garages."

"Both," Finn added playfully, turning to Wyatt. "Whichever you prefer." 

Wyatt clasped Finn's shoulder, then Logan’s—a silent, heartfelt smile tugging at his thin lips. Eloise's grateful embrace carried the same fondness Finn saw in Leo's glazed stare. He shot him a wink just as Logan bumped into his side. 

"You shouldn't have to..." Leo whispered softly.

Finn felt the sudden urge to tell him that he'd do anything to see him this happy, always. He knew from the look on Logan's face, scenically playing the annoyed roll of eyes, that he was tightly holding onto similar thoughts. 

But this was neither the time nor the place. Finn had already spotted a few TV crews creeping around and the last free practice session was about to start. 

Besides, he had no idea what the hell was going on with him. What was he meant to make of any of these thrumming needs?

He accepted the tenth round of thanks, an invitation to dinner at the best steakhouse in town according to Leo, another warm hug from Eloise, and a fierce good luck, son from an ecstatic Wyatt Knut—the silky lanyard of his pass already hanging around his neck.

Before he left, Logan put on one of those wicked smiles that Finn wished he could always bite off his lips. 

"See you on track, O'Hara," he jabbed, making everyone laugh. 

"Yeah," Finn smiled. It was a relief to see that some of the worry had slipped from Logan's scratchy, sleep-deprived voice. 

Finn loved him. God, he loved Logan immensely. But right then he knew he had to focus on himself and his performance, to keep an overload of problems at bay. 

After all, he'd made himself a promise. He had a championship to win, against none other than the man of his dreams—and his race engineer at his side. Two people who somehow managed to make Finn feel so overwhelmingly good. 

And helplessly confused.  

"Good luck, Tremblay." 

The car felt incredible, sharp and consistently balanced even on the hot track. The first two qualifying rounds had flowed as smoothly as water and Finn was confident he could secure a solid pole position, setting himself up for a much needed win tomorrow. 

Now the lights in Finn's box were vivid, as urgent as his need to get back on track and run the car in those milder sunset shades for the last stint of the day. He sat in the cockpit and waited while the mechanics made their final adjustments. 

As he peeled the smudged tear-off from his visor, Remus' voice crackled through the radio. 

"Harz, we're putting on a new set of soft." 

Finn pressed the yellow radio button on the steering wheel. "Sounds good." 

"And—I need you to improve the middle sector." 

"What's the last lap time?" 

"1:37.017," Remus spelled out. "Logan's is tied with James' at .214." 

Good, but not enough, Finn thought. Logan had this innate, annoyingly brilliant ability to set the perfect lap with the clock about to run out. One last flying lap to get those couple of tenths out of nowhere, just when everyone else thought he didn't have the right pace. 

"Archer’s going out first," Remus added. "He's instructed to give you slipstream if you think you'll need it." 

Finn and Kasey had used the tactic countless times, helping each other secure at least one spot on the front rows of the grid.  Jack wasn't new to these tricks, of course, and after a long talk that morning, Finn trusted him to deliver as well. 

Archer hadn't needed advice, exactly—more like reassurance and a nudge to tackle the new challenge with confidence. 

As presumptuous as it might have seemed, though, Finn didn't want Jack's help. He knew he held all the cards to perform at his peak. And maybe—just like the young rookie he'd been a long time ago—Finn desperately needed to prove something to himself once more.   

"Thanks, guys," he simply replied.  

"Let's bring it home, man." 

Amazing speed through the twentieth and final corner for Thomas Walker, but no further improvement. Nadeau, however, crosses the finish line with a fastest third sector and goes sixth to beat his teammate. 

Logan Tremblay takes provisional pole as O'Hara starts his flying lap with the session nearing its end. Here comes Potter across the line to move up to second—and we have a Silver front row for now.  Halla does improve, but remains fourth behind Archer—an amazing Saturday for the rookie, who'll have the chance to start his first Formula One race from second row tomorrow. 

Fastest sector one for Finn O'Hara as he makes his way through some traffic out there. Once again Tremblay vs. O'Hara for pole is our battle. 

Absolutely phenomenal in this car, finding more time down the high speed straight—and it's another purple sector for the American driver. 

More traffic coming in between turns 13 to 15 as most cars in-lap on their way to pit lane, but—whooa, my goodness. That's a close call for O'Hara with his teammate going into Turn 16! 

It was an instinctive reflex. 

Finn hadn't fully registered what had just happened in front of him. He braked, hard enough to tip his car to the left, over the curb and into the run-off, narrowly avoiding contact. His flying lap was completely ruined.

"Remus," he gasped over the radio.

He'd sounded too calm to his own ears, even as blood began to boil in his veins, mixing with a wild rush of adrenaline. Someone had just cost him the pole. Someone had deliberately moved into the middle of his lap and almost caused a massive crash. Not just someone, Finn realized with a flash of clarity, but his own teammate.

Remus' voice was apprehensive. "Yeah, we saw that, Harz..."

"That was fucking—"

"I know, I know," Remus promptly cut him off. He knew better than to let Finn cause a scene that anyone could hear. "Just come back to the box, please. We'll discuss this later."

Not a single word came out of Finn’s mouth as he drove to the Parc Fermé. He jumped out of the car, steering wheel in hand, and quietly followed the other drivers to the pit lane. A cameraman tracked him all the way to his box, probably expecting him to react, or maybe snap like some drivers used to—like Logan sometimes did. Finn just kept his helmet on and the dark visor down. 

He had expected to find Remus there, ready to apologize for a mistake that wasn’t even his fault. Finn knew he would try to explain with his steady, calming manner that there was nothing they could do. Whatever happened between teammates never got penalized by the stewards. It stayed between team walls. 

Instead, standing outside his garage, shoulders hunched and a restless hand tormenting his soft-looking curls, was Leo. 

"Harzy," he almost jumped on his feet when he saw Finn. "Are you okay?" 

"Le?" Despite everything, Finn found himself smiling. He raised the visor to meet Leo's anxious eyes. "What are you doing here?" 

"I..." Leo let out a long sigh of relief. "I'm so sorry, Finn. Are you hurt?" 

"What? No," Finn undid the helmet and slid it off his head, along with the balaclava. "Leo, I'm fine. It was just impeding." 

"I know, I..." he began, and glanced towards the mixed area where Archer was being interviewed. 

So he'd made it to the top three…

When Leo turned his back to Jack, he looked even more freaked out than before. "You... It looked bad—on screen. The bounce on the curb..."

"I'm fine," Finn repeated, reaching out to grab his arm reassuringly. "Are you, though?" 

"Yeah. Yeah, sorry. I just..." Leo swallowed hard. "I wanted to make sure he didn’t—"

"He fucking impeded you?!" Logan's thunderous voice made them both spin around. 

"Lo," Finn shot him a warning look. "Not here." 

"What the fuck?" 

"I know." Finn took a deep breath. "I need to talk to Remus first, but... He's young, guys. Honestly I’ve seen senior drivers doing worse than that."

Logan crossed his arms, an angry frown tightening his lips. "Still."

"Listen," Finn ran a hand over his sweaty hair, his pulse suddenly jumping. The onslaught of feelings he'd experienced in the last forty-eight hours was surreal. He felt defeated, frustration still seething at the edges of his fist, clenched around the chin bar of his helmet. Exhausted for too many reasons at once. 

And yet there stood a glimpse of hope—fierce eyes staring at him… protectively, he realized. 

"You two shouldn't worry about me, okay? I promise, I'm fine. I just need to put an end to this crazy day and get out of my head for a minute." 

Leo nodded understandingly. "We can call off dinner if you'd rather—" 

"Please don't," Finn said. It came out almost like a plea. "Dinner with the Knuts is exactly what I need right now." 

"Ouais," Logan agreed, watchful eyes fixed on Finn's. He was trying to read between the lines, something he'd learned a long time ago—always finding his way to Finn. "Me too." 

A full, bright smile split Leo's lips. "Okay, one more thing. Then I better go before Sirius kills me," he said. He sounded a little giddy. "My parents want to invite you to stay with us next week, just so you know. They were over the moon about the tickets." 

"Really, it was nothing," Logan said, and Finn’s heart melted in his chest. 

"You don't have to say yes," Leo urged. He took a step back towards the pit stall, grinning innocently, "And you definitely didn't hear this from me. But we'd love to have you guys over."

With a soul-crushing wink, Leo walked away. Logan's sharp breath filled the next beat of silence. 

"Rouge."

"Hm?" Finn whispered back. He noticed out of the corner of his eye that Logan was staring after Leo, too.

They turned to each other, keeping a short distance between them—just two drivers confronting each other after a tough qualifying session.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Logan asked.

"I love it when you call me Rouge."

"Finn."

"I told you, I'm fine."

"That wasn't fair."

"It wasn't," Finn admitted. 

"Beginner's luck," Logan grumbled. 

Finn's mouth shifted to the side, one corner lifting slightly. A bead of sweat slid from a rebellious lock of Logan’s dark hair onto his temple. Finn watched, mesmerized, as it traced its way around the crinkle of Logan’s eye, down to the corner of his full mouth, along his jaw, and finally dropped from his flushed face.

"Come on, Tremz. I'll overtake the rookie and chase you down as fast as I can. You have my word."

"Ah," Logan lost some of his fight at that. "Bet you won’t catch me, though."

"Oh-ho," Finn bit his lips. Something about that Logan smile drove him crazy. "Try me. I can give you a head start tonight," he murmured.

"Non," Logan laughed. "We have a race tomorrow, in case you forgot."

"Right," Finn inched closer. Logan didn’t so much as blink.

"A race I'm going to win. And then..."

It wasn’t much of a choice for Finn when it came to it. Had he imagined spending every second of their free time glued to Logan's side? Absolutely. Had Finn already pictured a beaming Leo showing them around his childhood home? Walking them through streets, corners, places he'd grown up in? Maybe.

Besides, they had already been thinking about a nice, short escape before flying to Mexico City—just the three of them. 

"A quick detour to New Orleans?" To Finn, it sounded like the perfect golden mean.

Green eyes glinted at him, almost in awe. The last rays of sun framed Logan's tan skin like gold.

"Parfait, mon amour."

[catboycumgutters]

so i experimented w giving myself a rest day from physical therapy this week. i thought, maybe i need a little recovery cushion. still did my daily yoga, so, i figured i wouldn't really notice a difference. rest day was yesterday.

holy hell there is a difference. a bad one. oh my god. i'm so rice krispies today. oh my god. ow. owowow. ow. why. fuck fuck ow. i still did all my other stuff, just skipped the pt. why. ow. did you know we have shoulders and hips? bc i cannot be unaware of that fact rn. it hurts so bad guys. guys. guys it hurts. i need to return to the water like NOW it's the only thing that can save me

cruel that those home resistance swimming lanes are $50k (+god knows how much in maintenance and chemicals and electricity), my god. i could hobble out to the pool and put everything back in place and then float for a half hour and be fine but nooooo i've got all this fucking gravity weighing everything down and still not enough muscular stability to keep everything together while snapping myself back in, thus having to cycle snapping myself back together one joint at a time which usually takes hours and yes it's as painful as it sounds

had to crack all my knuckles several times, crunch my metacarpals together, twist my elbow in, and body my shoulder back in place just to type this post (and it's all locked in at the neck/jaw/temple now. hello tinnitus my old friend).

yes yes yes weed can help but i HAVE to exercise before getting couchlocked or else it will just exacerbate the problem. i have to do this dance of relaxing muscles enough to move but not enough to be too loose (waiting for the robax and gabba to kick in...). and then move in just the right way to fix them. and then somehow balance frozen vegetables all over to lock it in (hate cold hate cold hate cold). by myself. and if i can't? well then i'll just sob until physical therapy tomorrow and they can put it all back in for me. and what's nuts is!!! i'm one of the lucky ones!!! with physical therapists i see twice a week who aren't just gym trainers; with legal access to weed; in a situation where i don't have to have a job. no i don't have a vehicle; no i couldn't keep a job even if i had one; no i don't get disability or have any other income; yes those are huge problems. and yet. i'm lucky. hashtag greatest country in the world folks.

imagine joints like taffy. too cold and they're brittle and will break when you stretch them. too warm and they sag and tear. imagine finding out this isn't normal in your fucking 30s.

[cevans-seb]

# stake your claim, now you’re taking it back

Pairing: Ari x Reader

Warning: short | angst | Ari is the worst type of husband | reader needs a hug and a therapist | I wanna make it sadder, so maybe I need the therapist

A/N : This is something I have been teetering with for a while now. I’m calling it rapid fire and till be short drabbles ( around a 1000 words or less) that’ll keep me exercising my writing without burnout. I must admit the frat AU is a lot more than I expected, but I write about it everyday with Andy’s chapter almost being finished.

Word count: 481

Prompt: I stay out late, hoping you’re asleep and I hate that when I come home you’re up waiting for me.

He was late yet again. The cold food rests  on the wooden table, untouched by both you and your husband. You tried calling him but after the fifth time, he seemed to have blocked you because it went straight to voicemail.  You sink deeper on the love seat, stomach growling as your muted tv lightens your darkened room. Reaching over on the nightstand, you pick up your digital clock that flashed at 2:35 am in florescent green lights, but you knew Ari had stayed out longer than that. Sometimes he’ll stroll in the next day, lipstick staining his shirts. You fiddle with your finger and wipe away a stray tear as you scrounge enough energy to put away your food.

You finally hear the door unlock as Ari steps inside, carelessly wielding his helmet. It used to be a tradition you both did with him calling you up after he left work for a joyride on his motorcycle, but there was never a destination in  mind, only two lovers traveling around town. But as work became overwhelming and frequent fights ensued, those dwindled-along with your will to fight for your marriage. Ari notices you and his shoulder slumps.

“shouldn’t you be asleep?” He gruff.

“I wanted to wait up and eat with you.” Your arms tightened around your stomach. “ I still haven’t eaten, actually.”

He blew out a snide chuckle. “ and whose fault is that ? I didn’t tell you to stay up for me. I never want you to stay but you do every fucking time.”

Ari, I want to spend time with you, but it seems like you’re never around anymore. I’ll call you when you’re at lunch and your colleagues would say that you’re in a meeting or you went out with another coworker. That’s fine if it’s only happened a handful of times but you and I both know that we haven’t done anything together for a long time now. So yes, I stayed up past 3 am to eat with you even though I have work in a few hours  because I  miss my husband, and I really want him back.” You sniffle.

Ari squared in his jaw, your heart pounded out of your ear in pure trepidation about what he’s going to do. “ You wanna know why I come home late? I stay out late, hoping that you are asleep. I’ll drive around, get a couple drinks, and some food then head  home.” His haunted eyes bored into yours. “ I do all this to avoid you because I can’t stand the sight of you and every fucking time I walk in this cursed house I beg that you’re asleep somewhere, and I’m disappointed every time, and I hate that when I come home you’re waiting for me. He scowled, bumping into you. You’re frozen in utter disbelief as a single tear rolls down your cheek.