#this is probably a sign I need to start doing my back exercises again

[skelly-bean]

I would like to file a complaint about my spine please and thank you

[ggidolsmuts]

Bases Loaded, Holes Filled - Kep1er Yujin, Xiaoting, Mashiro

"Hmm? Hey Yujin!"

"Oppa, you can go 3 rounds right?"

"Yeah, I do 3 sets for my exercises, why?"

"Cool thanks, I'll see you soon!"

What was that about? You wonder. Probably nothing, just Yujin being random again. She did say she was going to the gym more, maybe she wanted you to be her gym partner? You don't think too much about it. You get a message from Yujin later that week to hang out, and you happily agree.

"Hi oppa!"

"Oh hey Yujin." She pecks you on the cheek, grabbing your arm and leading you in. "Oh hi Xiaoting, Mashiro!" You wave at them happily—they were probably heading out soon right? Yujin rarely calls you over with others around.

"We're playing Switch baseball, come join us!" They certainly looked the part, all dressed in the same baseball outfit you saw them perform in a while back. You shrug and join them, watching them play and taking a few swings yourself as well. The game was fun enough, you suppose, but it felt… boring? Like they were just whiling time away. You'd much rather go on a date with Yujin, if you were honest.

"Aish this is boring!" Xiaoting shouts, loudly and unnaturally.

"Oh, should we play something else?" you ask hopefully.

"No no, we just need to spice it up!" Mashiro chimes in on cue.

"Oh, how should we do it? Loser has to buy ice cream?"

"That's too tame oppa! We can have some fun you know." You recognize Yujin's playful tone—it's one she usually reserves for the bedroom. Wth some shock, you're suddenly aware that only the four of you are here. This was planned, a set-up.

"Yujin?"

"What? We can play with Ting and Shiro too, right?"

"Can we?" you ask yourself and them rhetorically.

"Yes, we're just playing." Xiaoting answers, pouting cutely, the same way Yujin would pout.

"Mmhmm, let's just have fun together." Mashiro scoots closer to you, mimicking Yujin's playful tone the best she can. "We trust you," she adds quietly and nervously.

"I… okay then." Is this really happening?

"Great! Oppa, you should play then." Yujin hands you the controller. "How much fun we have depends on how well you do." She runs her hands down your chest, rubbing circles over them in an open display of affection, even kissing your neck, sending a shudder down your spine—yes, this is really happening.

"I-I'll do my best."

You step up to the plate, and with the controller in hand you take a wild swing. It connects poorly with the ball, but you watch your in-game character run and make it to first base.

"Ooh ok, that's a good start!"

"Is it? I didn't score though."

"You got on first base, that's good enough. First base is Shiro!" Yujin takes the controller from you, and it is quickly replaced with Mashiro's hand as she leads you to the couch. You are hesistant as Yujin and Xiaoting sit down on the floor opposite the two of you, openly watching in anticipation.

"Pretend we're not here." Yujin waves your gaze away before leaning into Xiaoting and whispering in her ear. You wonder what she could be saying in such a situation, but you are quickly distracted by Mashiro grabbing your arms and pulling you into a kiss.

"Mmph, mmph!" You're falling on to the couch, Mashiro cushioning your descent as she pulls you on top of her. You much more vividly feel her cushions as she wraps her arms around your neck, making sure you can't not feel them. You bring a hand to her waist, still over her baseball jersey, and Mashiro moans loudly, clearly already forgetting about Yujin and Xiaoting.

"Mashiro?" Her eyes are round and shiny with desire, and she nods.

"Yes, please." She emphasizes it by bringing your other hand to her chest, begging you to squeeze. That's the sign you needed. You get to first base with Mashiro, enjoying her moans as you squeeze her breast. Your other hand slips beneath her jersey, gliding over her smooth skin. Expertly you feel for her bra, unclasping it from behind.

"Y-You're good," Mashiro comments, and she turns a deeper shade of red when you slide the straps off her arms. Neither of you hear the squeal from Xiaoting as you pull the bra off and toss it to the side—you're already busy feeling Mashiro up, fingers playing with her stiff nubs and making her squirm on the sofa.

Yujin's squirming along with Mashiro, knowing how it feels all too well. She watches you slip your hand down Mashiro's shorts, and her own hand drifts down her body, only to be stopped.

"Unnie!" Xiaoting is flushed red too, but she bites her lip and shakes her head—the three of them had so much planned, it'd be a waste to get themselves off now! They settle for holding each other's hands, squeezing and squirming in place as they each imagine themselves in Mashiro's position.

Mashiro does not have the luxury of imagination though, your two fingers slipping inside her very tangible and pleasurable. Your lips are on hers, and when she feels your tongue licking her lips she lets you in, allowing you to plunder her from both ends. Mashiro's soft everywhere, even on the inside, but her teeth clatters against yours when you find her sweet spot, her head jerking forward in response to your delightful rub.

"Nngh! Uhh, uhh, ahh, ahh!" Short husky breaths escape Mashiro, her cheeks puffing out as she purses her lips, trying to swallow the moan that is eager to break out. She gets louder in more ways than one as her wetness does the talking for her. Yujin and Xiaoting watch entranced, soaking themselves as they watch their cute racoon fall into rapture, a leg dangling lewdly off the sofa, showing off your movements through the stretching of her shorts. She manages to clutch at your arm, large round eyes looking at you unfocused.

"Do it," you whisper, and they roll into her head, a strained moan announcing Mashiro's climax. She shudders on the sofa, thighs taut and trapping your hand, making sure you feel her wave of juice over your fingers. You extract yourself when she relaxes, but you also let out your own moan when Mashiro reaches for you, grabbing you over your shorts.

"S-Shiro!" This time it is Yujin shouting. "Not yet!"

"Ah? Ahh, right, sorry." Sheepishly she withdraws her hand, pushing you off lightly. "Thanks oppa."

"What's going on?"

"T-That's just first base, we should keep going." Mashiro hands you a tissue shyly, and you cough and wipe your fingers with them.

"Okay, what's next?"

"We keep going." You stand up awkwardly—you are wielding two bats as you get in the stance, but clearly no one minded. You swing, and a strike, another swing, and another strike, you make a third swing and whiff also, and with that you have your first out.

"Looks like oppa needs some motivation." Xiaoting grabs her jersey and pulls up, but instead of taking it off, she merely ties it off into a haltertop, exposing her midriff for you. "Try again." Another three whiffs and you have a second out.

"Oppa, your stance is wrong, here, let me help you." She holds you from behind, pressing herself against your body—you notice immediately her lack of a bra, and her hand slips inside your pocket, grabbing your erection as she pretends to tweak your stance with the other hand. "Like this, got it?" She gives you a firm stroke, and your legs nearly buckle from her touch.

"Nngh, right, thanks."

"Good luck."

Strike one, strike two, ball, ball, ball. You take one last swing, praying it connects. It does, and you see the ball fly further out, but it is not a home run, instead leading to a double.

"Third base, good job, Yujin can you grab the things?"

Before you can ask what said "things" are, Xiaoting has dragged you backwards on to the couch, and you're making out with her like you did with Mashiro earlier.

"I prepared a lot for you," Xiaoting whispers, inviting your hand beneath her shorts, leading you to two discoveries—not only is she not wearing a bra, she is also not wearing panties; additionally, all you feel is bare skin around her warm entrance.

"T-Thanks— Ah!" You find yourself kissing Yujin all of a sudden, her hands aggressively tugging your shorts down. With quick strokes she gets you to full hardness, and with a groan you allow yourself to get wrapped up, a condom stretched over your shaft.

"There, done, go get her. Save some for me later." Yujin pulls away, joining a red-faced Mashiro who is not staring at you, but rather right in front of you. On the ground bent over is Xiaoting, naked from the waist down. You notice the bottle in your hand, and it leads you to a third discovery.

"Fuck me from behind, fuck me… there." There is no room for misinterpretation as Xiaoting pulls on one of her cheeks. You grab the bottle of lube and slather it on your shaft, spreading some around her puckered hole for good measure.

"Have you done this before?" you had to ask, both out of concern and curiosity.

"Just toys, nothing that big, go slow." You nod and press your tip against her rear entrance, applying a little pressure. "Harder." Your head presses more firmly against her ass, and you wriggle a little to open her up. "Fuck!" Xiaoting curses as your head slips in quickly.

"Sorry, sorry!"

"No no, give me time, fuck Yujin he's big."

"Y-Yeah, are you okay?" Ever the leader, Yujin's concerned about Xiaoting even as she's turned on, watching you disappear into her ass.

"Yeah, it's… filling!" Xiaoting nods back at you, and you begin to push in bit by bit, opening her up more than any toy could. You keep a firm grip on her hips, feeling for her reactions, listening for any moan or gasp of pain, slowly drawing her on to your cock. You stop when her toned ass finally touches you, and you take the opportunity to squeeze her butt—you're fully buried inside Xiaoting now.

"Fuck you're tight…" you groan, the pressure of Xiaoting clenching around you near overwhelming.

"Yeah? Better open me up then." You make sure to rise to her challenge, pulling out before pushing back in faster than before. "Oooh fuck, yeah just like that!" You settle into a rhythm, slowly pumping into Xiaoting, but each thrust is harder than the previous one. The clash of flesh is louder each time, as is Xiaoting's cry of pleasure. Forgotten in the background Yujin and Mashiro watch the two of you go at it, rubbing themselves—without Xiaoting to keep her in check the wet spot between Yujin's legs grow darker and larger, almost matching the one on Mashiro's shorts. You had never done anal with Yujin, but watching the forbidden act unfold in front of her sends her heartrate racing—she wonders just how full Xiaoting is feeling.

"Oh my god!" Xiaoting yelps in answer as you reach around her waist, sliding a hand across her shaven mound to find her clit. She immediately begins to fall apart—pleasure rockets through her body with every thrust into her ass, and that is now supplemented by your rubbing of her sensitive nub, a constant wave of ecstasy growing in the background. What was a pulsing, slowly growing ball of joy in her core is now burgeoning rapidly, persistently pushing its way through her thoughts, much like the way you are in her ass.

Mashiro watches you bent over Xiaoting, humping her, your hand hidden between her thighs, but it doesn't take much to figure out what you're doing to her. Xiaoting's arms weaken, and only her ass remains in the air. Mashiro spies her group mate's glazed over expression, and Xiaoting has never had a lewder look on her face. Her eyes widen suddenly, staring straight through Shiro, and her arm shoots backwards, trying to grab you.

"Ah! No— Yessss!" It's too late, with a wet gush Xiaoting splatters the floor loudly, her juice covering your thighs. She wails as you continue to rub her clit, extending her orgasm with violent quivers. Her slick continues to leak and trickle along her thighs, not nearly as explosive but just as hot.

"Fuck, gonna cum!" You groan, the pressure of Xiaoting around you too much after her orgasm.

"Do it, cum in my ass, want, you, to— Ah! cum!" Xiaoting manages to gasp between your plowing thrusts, eager for you to reach your own peak—with a grunt and a growl you press your hips to hers and unload into the condom. It doesn't prevent Xiaoting from feeling you throb in her ass, and Xiaoting moans with relish at the sensation.

"Haah, hah, ha, mmm…" You find yourself kissing Xiaoting mindlessly, stifling her last few moans. When you finally slip out of her, she takes the condom off you. She brings a finger to where you were earlier, gasping in surprise—you didn't just stretch her, you gaped her open, and there is a satisfying soreness to that, one that made her— Oh my! Blushing at the mess she made Xiaoting hurries to the bathroom without another word.

"Xiaoting? Are you okay?" You call out to her retreating form, but she the door closes without an answer. Yujin follows her quickly in.

"She'll be okay oppa, I think she's just overwhelmed, she normally doesn't squirt like that, or at all." Ever thoughtful Mashiro brings some tissues and wipes to clean up.

"Thanks— Mmph!" Mashiro jumps into your lap, juicy thighs straddling you. Through her shorts that she has somehow managed to keep on, you groan at just how soaked she is.

"Get hard quickly, we can do it before— Ah!" Yujin firmly tugs Mashiro off you, tutting at her.

"Later, it's not fair if you get two rounds before I even get one in Shiro!" The younger girl merely whines, but she nods in apology to her leader.

"Is Xiaoting okay?"

"Oh yes, she was just embarrassed, she's never done that before, but she said she wanted to do it again sometime." You gulp and get hard at the prospect of that. "And now you're hard enough, good, keep playing!"

"Are we really still keeping this up?"

"Yes! Otherwise Ting and Shiro won't be happy!" Mashiro nods seriously to reinforce the point.

"Okay okay!" You take a few wild swings, figuring you'll just luck into a hit and score. But no, maybe you were too horny to do it properly—it certainly doesn't help when Yujin begins stripping, supposedly for "incentive". All it does is distract you, and you strike out multiple times through multiple innings, until you're on your last swing. Xiaoting has returned, blushing but satisfied, and Mashiro and Yujin are growing agitated and annoyed.

"Aish, do guys lose all hand-eye coordination when they're horny?!" Yujin snatches the remote from you, and skillfully smashes it out of the park, home run! Immediately she jumps on you, tossing the remote to the side as she latches her lips to your neck, leaving a dark bruise. "It's a good thing I'm so wet, I got so bored and dry watching you whiff."

"Sorry!" With a moan Yujin eases herself on to your cock, and you see Mashiro and Xiaoting on the couch, enjoying the show and slowly pleasuring themselves too.

It is a different kind of tightness compared to Xiaoting's ass, but you enjoy Yujin's snug warmth all the same. Pinning you to the floor she starts humping you, midriff moving back and forth, throwing her hips up and down on you, making sure your length slides in and out of her fully each time. Sweat and scent soak through her jersey when she ups the pace, choosing to gyrate her hips instead, grinding her own clit against you. It's almost demanding the way she rides you, as if she's putting on a show for her groupmates.

"Are you gonna cum for me oppa? Gonna cum for Yujinie?"

"Yes, fuck Yujin I'm so close!"

"Good, cum in my mou—" Yujin makes to get off, but two pairs of hands stop her, holding her down on your shaft. "What are you doing!"

"Come on unnie, when are you going to tell oppa?"

"Nngh, what are you talking about?" you manage through gritted teeth, feeling Yujin clench around you—she's equally close.

"We found Yujin unnie's browser history, do you want to know what we saw?" Mashiro teases.

"No, don't!" Xiaoting keeps her leader down, firmly keeping your bodies flush together. You're even deeper inside Yujin now.

"Shush unnie. Oppa, the term she searches for the most is breeding, all her favorite videos end in a huge creampie, or even multiple."

"Fuck…" you moan at that thought, and because Yujin gets even tighter around you.

"Yet here she wants to get off you to suck you dry, what a coward, tell him what you really want unnie." Mashiro encourages.

"Yes tell him!" Xiaoting eggs her on."Don't you want to see oppa's thick load leaking out of you when you get off him, it's going to leak everywhere. Maybe we can record it too? We won't let you move until you tell him."

"Fuck!" Yujin cries out at the thought. Xiaoting helps both of you along, making Yujin move her hips on top of you, eking out just that little bit more pleasure and getting you just a little deeper inside her.

"中に出して! I don't need to translate that for you do I unnie?" Mashiro joins in on the filthy teasing.

"N-No, nngh!"

"Yujin I can't hold on much longer!" you grunt, Yujin's dirty thoughts and newfound desires gripping you just as hard as her pussy is right now.

"Okay, okay!" With a gentle push from Xiaoting she falls on top of you, whispering directly in your ear. "I want to be bred, cum in me! Breed me, please breed me oppa, I don't care, just cum in me." Yujin's begging whimpers become sobs of pleasure as you grab her ass and take over, bringing her down on you in time with your upward thrusts.

"Oh, oh fuck, that's so deep! Ah ah ah… yes yes yes!" There's no going back, and with a few furious thrusts upwards Yujin orgasms powerfully with you, clenching around your tip blasting seed into her womb. "I-I can feel it, it's so much, mmm…" She hugs you tightly, clinging to you for all she's worth and letting out small whispers of joy. For a while all that's heard is you and Yujin's laboured moans plus Mashiro's and Xiaoting's heavy breathing. When Yujin goes limp she sags on you completely, utterly wasted by the experience—you've never seen her like this.

"Wow… Look." Xiaoting helps pull Yujin up and back slowly. Your cock slips out of her, and immediately a thick stream of white oozes out of her. "Isn't that what you wanted unnie?"

"I guess, I— Shiro!" You back up as Mashiro straddles you, bending over to lick your load oozing out of her leader. She wiggles her ass as she does so, a clear invitation to get hard again quickly. You watch in dumbfounded surprise as the quiet girl continues licking Yujin, and it is only when her hands go to her shorts you realize what she is offering. You help Mashiro out, pulling down her shorts, just enough to expose her glistening pussy for the first time.

Mashiro's first attempt earlier was stopped by Yujin, but this time, having sufficiently distracted her leader with her tongue, the co-leader grabs your hard again shaft and lines herself up with it. Her moan is muffled by Yujin's muff, but there is no hiding your groan when Mashiro takes your stiff bat up her pussy. That is something for Xiaoting to stifle as she stands over you and grabs your hair. You take a moment to admire Mashiro's ass and thighs jiggling while she bounces on you, but soon your tilt your head back, allowing Xiaoting to push herself on your face. You eat her out from below, her juices no longer squirting out, but leaking constantly down your chin instead.

The sinful scene silently simmers, each of you quieting your pleasure through a pussy in the face or a hand on the mouth. Yujin's legs tremble, Mashiro's thighs bounce and jiggle, Xiaoting's pussy quivers and leaks, but it is all whispered names and whimpered "yes" until you grope Xiaoting's ass, spreading her cheeks while eating her out. A finger into her newly un-gaped ass forces her to break the silence, crying out a ecstatic apology as she floods your mouth with more nectar.

It triggers a chain reaction—Yujin watches Xiaoting's juice splash and trickle down your chin, and it triggers her own orgasm, her hands going to her co-leader's head, forcing Mashiro's tongue deeper into her cum-filled heat. Hearing the other two members cry out, Mashiro slams herself hard on your shaft and combusts with them, clenching around you and coating your shaft with her own slick.

"Fuck, I'm going to cum!" you shout, managing to disengage from Xiaoting's pussy to warn Mashiro.

"No, wait!" She shudders and forces herself to lift off you. Turning around, she tears her jersey off and makes you feel her bustiness, trapping your slick covered shaft between her breasts. "Do it oppa, go ahead." Watching the "innocent" racoon of the group push your cock through her cleavage and feeling her soft tits squishing around you proves too much, and with a jerk of your hips you splatter her face. Your own vision goes black, and you feel hands all over your shaft as you thrust blindly upwards through their strokes, shooting shot after shot until you are fully drained, and not even the hand on your balls can coax more out of you.

"Mmmmmph…" The sudden warm mouth on your cock does though, and you whimper and squeeze off a parting shot into it. You finally manage to open your eyes, just in time to see Mashiro releasing your shaft, licking your sensitive tip for good measure. Your eyes widen at her cum-covered face, a good amount on her neck and chest too; your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets when you see Yujin and Xiaoting next to her, faces also covered with white splatters and streaks.

"Home run," Yujin whispers, and the three of them look at each other and giggle. "Come on, let's clean up." They head for the bathroom, leaving you to wonder what the fuck just happened. Groaning in exertion you reach for some wipes, cleaning their juices left all over you and the floor. Sore but satisfied, you pull on your clothes and sag into the clean end of the couch, and it feels like you've taken a short nap until you notice Yujin's weight in your lap.

"Oppa." She hugs you and nuzzles your neck.

"Hey, hmm I guess that's what you meant by 3 rounds, and here I thought you were talking about exercises."

"Oops, sorry. I mean, technically it's exercise."

"I guess, I'm pretty sore." Yujin joins you in your chuckle. "Are Mashiro and Xiaoting okay?"

"Yeah, they're both a little sore."

"Mmhmm, we normally don't have something that big to work with." The two of you are distracted by Xiaoting and Mashiro joining you. Xiaoting winces a little as she adjusts her stance slightly. "Definitely a little sore."

"It's a good sore though." Mashiro assures you. "Thanks for the fun time oppa."

"Sure, it was fun for me too." Xiaoting's glance flitters from you to Yujin, and a glance from her leader makes Xiaoting's eyes widen slightly in acknowledgement.

"We umm, we're going out to get coffee!"

"We are?" Mashiro asks. "We have a coffee machine at home though!"

"It tastes better from a cafe! Let's go. Unnie make sure you take your 'medicine'."

"Medicine? Yujin are you sick?"

"Aish, for a co-leader you are slow on the uptake sometimes!" Xiaoting grabs Mashiro by the arm and leads her away firmly. "Bye!"

"Get me something too Ting!"

"Yes unnie!" With that, you and Yujin are alone once more.

"So, about that medicine, or rather, why you would need to take something…" You trail off, allowing Yujin to pick up the thread as you watch her get off you and go take a pill, her face blushing when she settles back in your lap.

"I���I know we've been careful, but I've just been watching more umm, videos, and it's really hot. I didn't think they would find that, I wasn't planning on bringing it up with you until much later."

"Why not?" you ask, bring a hand to her cheek and finding it very warm.

"We've never discussed anything about that, I didn't want to scare you away or anything."

"Look, it's just a kink, we know what each other likes, I don't think hiding a new kink helps, I want you to feel good too when we do it." You kiss and hug her, murmuring in her ear. "We can discuss our future together and what that looks like next time, not right after you pulled me in for a foursome."

"That's fair, sorry." You peck her lips in acceptance of her apology.

"If that's a kink you have, I'm more than happy to do it. I can trust you to keep us safe right?"

"Yes, I'll make sure I stick to the schedule and remember to take it on time."

"Good, then next time I'll be sure to go three rounds again, and it'll all go into you, fill you up fully."

"Yah… you make me want to do it right now," Yujin hits you cutely on the chest and pouts, and it turns into a smirk as she slips her top slightly and reveals a shoulder.

"Hah no more today please! Besides, aren't they coming back with coffee soon?"

"Hmph fine!" You cuddle Yujin to appease her need for skinship, and it was lucky you two didn't go any further, as a few minutes later Xiaoting and Mashiro return with ice-cold drinks.

"Oppa we got something for you too!"

"Thanks a lot!" The four of you switch to playing some actual games until Yujin checks her phone.

"The members will be coming back soon, you should probably go."

"Yeah, I'll head out, thanks for having me over." It sounded insane, like you were thanking them for a quiet night in rather than a wild fuckfest. You hug Xiaoting and Mashiro goodbye, and they press themselves against you fully.

"Thanks oppa." Mashiro's cheeks are a tint of pink, to think she was writhing beneath you on the sofa earlier, and then bouncing on you later!

"Thanks oppa! Let's have more fun next time." Xiaoting waves as Yujin walks you to the door, and you kiss and hold her close.

"See you soon, remember to take your 'medicine'."

"I will I will, thanks for playing along with everything."

"As long as it doesn't become a regular thing, the three of you are a lot for me you know? I can barely keep just you satisfied."

"Oh I was definitely satisfied, and I'm sure Ting and Shiro are too. Maybe I'll listen to Ting and actually record it next time."

"From one risk to another huh?" Yujin pecks you good bye and pushes you out the door.

Weeks later you get a message from Yujin.

We're doing another baseball thing soon, you know what that means~

You start practicing the baseball game—you can't leave them waiting too long the next time after all.

A/N: Just a crazy idea I had, ever since they did the baseball thing I thought about the foursome. Finally got around to it. Little bit all over the place, thanks for reading!

[fishsinsareacknowledged]

hellooo!! i just firstly wanted to say i have binged every nikto post you've written and enjoyed them very much. you write that feral dog man very well.

i do have a self indulgent prompt idea that i'd love to see if it appeals to ya! what might a relationship with nikto look like if the reader was a chronically ill person? specifically if they often had dizzy of fainting spells/ joint pain?

Thanks for reading through all my bullshit bae, appreciated really. I'm very easy to amuse so i read every single one of my asks as long as it doesn't look like a bot especially the spam ones. I see you. I know. Ill write another someday.

Anyways Nikto with a chronically ill SO would be honestly better for him in the first stage of the relationship. Getting to know each other, and when he sees how weak you are he's going to relax. Mostly cause then he believes that you are of no threat to him, even moreso when he finds some hospital records of you when he was snooping.

Later stages of the relationship when he actually starts to care about you is when he starts getting worried and actually taking action. Oh you need to grab something from the top of the shelf. No. Just no. He's getting that for you, so sit the fuck down.

Oh you want to take a long shower but you're scared you're going to fall because you have random fainting spells? Yeah he's joining you and watching your every move. Grabbing you by the sides of your chest and pulling you against him, making you lean on him at the first signs of any weakness.

"Better?", he asks after you start to get back on your feet. Or at least trying to.

"Worse", and he's just going to rinse you with water, making sure youre atleast somewhat clean and carrying you back to bed.

"A bit", and he's going to very carefully. Very reluctantly, set you back down. Hands hovering over the sides of your chest as a precaution before letting go of you and finishing up the shower.

A simple "Mhm", and he's just going to hold you there for a few more. Slowly and lightly patting your back as his hand goes higher, gently running through your hair and massaging your scalp.

You know you've got to get out of the shower someday but ah. He'll wait for you, even if his fingers get pruney from the water.

A hand grabbing your elbow as you get out of the shower. A simple reflex by now, almost an instinct to hold you from anything anywhere. A simple measure to make sure you don't fall.

If you have joint pain hes probably going to make you exercise lightly. Mostly there just to accompany him but also look, theres a new machine, do you want to try lyubov'?

Supportive bf nikto who just holds up a thumbs up whenever you do something right is real TO ME OKAY.

Some light walks with him and he's going to hold your arm the whole way through, making sure you're not even an inch from him throughout. Though his now clingy habits backfire on him the first time he gets back on missions after meeting you, finding the loss of presence almost infuriating.

And the first thing he does when hes back is do it all over again. Just a failsafe he says. And is somehow even more clingy, holding you especially when you stand up after a long time of lying around with him.

××××××××××××××××××××××x x××××××××××××××××××××××

Masterlist

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 20

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Words: 6k

Masterlist

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Tuesday, November 24; 3:15 PM - School.

It’s the first time since I’ve been here that we finish classes early. I never thought it was possible. It’s rare to see a teacher absent, but that’s the case today. The whole class decided to leave after ten minutes, seeing that he would never arrive. Especially since he’s usually already waiting for us in his classroom.

" I’m joining the girls in the common room. Want to come? " Alexia proposes.

" Sorry, I told Bronze I would come after my classes. "

" She doesn’t know we finished early. You can go afterward. "

" The sooner I go, the sooner I’ll be free from this obligation. "

" I could almost believe you’re becoming serious, " she laughs.

" I don’t think so, no! "

" Come on, go enjoy your time with Bronze now that she’s talking to you again. "

" Stop it, " I roll my eyes. " You’re really something! "

" Oddly, you’re not denying it, " she replies with a wink.

I giggle, rolling my eyes. Alexia has been making inappropriate remarks since last night, saying I’m addicted to Bronze. Well, it’s true that I was sulking when she ignored me, but I wouldn’t go as far as to say I’m addicted to her. I just missed her. She was so much on my back lately that it was weird when she suddenly disappeared. Alexia understands that I appreciate Bronze more than I let on. I stopped contradicting her when I realized my arguments were becoming ridiculous. She could hold hands with Mapi. The latter keeps asking about the progress of my relationship with Bronze since she heard me call her "baby". I’ve been teased and received the same remark as Ale. I’m starting to think I’m glad they don’t know each other. I can tolerate them individually, but I’d go crazy if I had them together. We finally reach the ground floor. I was getting tired of Alexia’s remarks. I quickly excuse myself before slipping away to Bronze’s office. The door is wide open today. I knock lightly to announce my presence, which earns me two surprised faces looking at me.

" What are you doing here already? Aren’t you supposed to have classes until five o’clock? Don’t tell me you got kicked out again? " Bronze bombards me, frowning.

" Thanks for the trust, " I roll my eyes. " My literature teacher is absent. "

" Mr. Johnson absent? " Engen repeats. " Weird… "

" Anyway, he didn’t come. We waited fifteen minutes, and my class started to disperse, so we left too, " I shrug.

The two instructors exchange a look as if silently communicating. Bronze finally shrugs, inviting me to sit. I smile at her and settle in front of her. Engen, on the other hand, stands up.

" I’ll find out what’s going on. Do you know where the rest of your class went? "

" All over, I’d say. Many are in the common room, and the others are probably in their rooms, I guess. "

" Hmm, thanks. "

She leaves, letting me alone with Bronze. She’s already making room for me on her desk. I take out my stuff, prominently displaying the exercise she gave me to complete last night. I had to do and redo it several times before succeeding. It was one of the hardest she’s given me. There’s even an equation I couldn’t solve.

" Did you do your math? "

" Yeah… Well, half of it. "

" What do you mean, half? "

I prefer to hand her my paper rather than give explanations. She immediately checks my work. She raises an eyebrow at my draft filled with scribbles. Maybe I should have rewritten it instead of leaving my mistakes, but at least she can see that I worked hard to get there. She can’t say I didn’t work.

" And the answer to my question about the sign? "

" You need to put a plus because it follows the sign of ‘a’. Since the number is positive, my answer was correct. "

" You seem much more confident than yesterday, " she smiles amusedly.

" I almost dreamed of math all night, going over your sheet you made me. "

She chuckles as I cross my arms and sink into my chair. During her explanations last night, she made me a sheet summarizing all the important formulas to know. She added the sign rules since I was stuck on them. Needless to say, I spent my whole evening revising it. It’s much more effective than all my course notes. It’s short, clear, and precise.

" At least it was useful. "

" That’s for sure… "

" So, what didn’t you understand about the second function? "

I was about to answer, but Engen startles me by speaking up. I hadn’t even noticed she was back.

" Am I dreaming, or are you giving her lessons? "

" She’s struggling since she’s missing two years, " Bronze’s spontaneous honesty surprised me so much that my foot automatically kicked her under the desk. I would have preferred that detail stay between us. I’m already ashamed enough. Bronze raises an eyebrow at my gesture.

" Why was that? "

" You didn’t have to shout it from the rooftops, " I mumble, embarrassed.

She laughs softly. I jump when Engen hugs me from behind, resting her head on mine. I tense up at her unexpected closeness.

" Oh, come on! You don’t need to react like that for so little, Ona, " Engen says. " It’s good that you’re asking for help. "

" Hmm… "

" Wiegman is stupid for putting you at such a high level if you have difficulties, " she comments.

I shrug. I could actually keep up, but the problem is that I quickly lose interest and disengage. I would have caught up long ago otherwise. Plus, if I had reacted differently when I arrived, I wouldn’t have so much material to catch up on.

" Anyway, Mr. Johnson is really absent, " she informs me, letting go of me. " I have to gather your class in a study room to work, by Wiegman’s order. "

" Do I have to go too? "

" Well, I came to get you, but you came here willingly to work with Lucy. So, I guess you stay here. "

" Yes, she stays here, " Bronze intervenes. " Do you have to supervise the class? "

" Yeah, " Engen sighs. " They’re starting to get on my nerves. She could have let them have free time, but no, " she grumbles. " We’ll have to meet up to eat. "

" No worries, " Bronze laughs. " See you later. "

We say goodbye before she leaves. I get the impression she doesn’t like Wiegman at all. Last time, she didn’t hide her hatred towards her either. One thing is certain, she’s frank and direct, like Bronze. That’s probably why I like her too.

" Alright, back to our sheep, " she pulls me out of my thoughts. " What didn’t you understand then? "

" Is Wiegman that bad? " I ask.

" Why this question? " she frowns.

" I don’t know. Engen doesn’t seem to like her much. "

" Let’s just say she’s attentive to all our actions. She’s starting to get fed up. "

" Seriously? Why would she monitor the instructors too? "

" She doesn’t want another student-instructor relationship to happen again. "

" Oh… So, are you being monitored too? "

" Yes, like all my colleagues. Can we get back to the main topic, which is math? "

" No, wait… Are you talking about me? "

Bronze sighs in annoyance. This question is important to me. With what Alexia thinks, I’m afraid Wiegman will start thinking we’re too close. I don’t want her to risk her job because of me. And does she tell her what I confide in her? I hope not, because I tell her quite personal things.

" Why this question? "

I bite my lip. I don’t know if I should be honest with her. She gives me a hard look to encourage me to continue. I decide to play the honesty card.

" Alexia thinks we’re close. She keeps teasing me about it. Do you think you could get in trouble if Wiegman thought the same? I don’t want to cause you any problems. "

" Well, I’ll explain to you if it can reassure you. Every instructor has to see Wiegman at the end of the day for a debriefing. I’m not more monitored than the others because I’m in charge of you, if that’s your question. "

" And so… Do you ever talk about me? " I ask again.

" Of course we often talk about you. I’m the one supervising you, so it’s normal for her to ask me questions about you. "

" Do you tell her what I confide in you? " I ask with some fear.

«  We mainly talk about your progress, your reactions. I would never repeat what you confide in me. If I do, it will only be with your permission, to defend you, or if it’s a very important matter that can’t be kept. "

" A matter that can’t be kept? Like what? "

" Well, something that could harm you or put you in danger, for example. "

" Okay, " I sigh. " You promise not to talk about it otherwise? "

" Ona, the only thing I’ve told Wiegman since I’ve been supervising you is the events you told me about the night you ended up drugged. If I hadn’t done that, you could have had a lot of trouble with her. "

" Is that all? " I ask with a hint of surprise.

" Of course. I would never tell her your personal or family problems. Those things only concern you. I’ll always be here to listen, comfort, or support you, but I’ll never repeat anything to her. Only the results matter to her. Do you understand? "

" And for you? Do only the results matter to you too? "

" I should, yes, " she begins. " That was the case with all my former students under my care, but not with you. "

" Why not? " I laugh bitterly. " Don’t tell me that to please me, please. "

" That’s not the case. None of my former students confided in me like you do. It’s the first time I’ve had such a close relationship with a student, and it’s only because I want it. "

" What do you mean? "

" Usually, I remain cold and impassive in my work. It’s not for nothing they call me the commander. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I was never like that with you. « 

I lower my head, realizing it is the truth. She was strict at the beginning, but our relationship quickly evolved. She became understanding, and I almost want to say she became caring. I'd like to know the reasons why, but I doubt she would tell me.

- The results are important, of course, but I enjoy learning who you really are. I care about you, whether you believe it or not.

I have no doubt about her words. She has no reason to lie to me after all. I lift my head to smile at her timidly. She returns the smile, tilting her head slightly as if she knows what I'm thinking.

- Do you have any more questions you’d like answered, or can we get to work now?

- We can get to work... Unless you’re busy. I wouldn’t want to disturb you either.

- I don’t have that much work. Your test tomorrow is more important. Let’s go back to the exercise. What was your problem then? she says, picking up the paper.

- I think you didn’t give me all the formulas. I couldn’t do it even though I went over everything.

She looks at my draft again. I blush at the idea that she's once again wasting precious time on me. I still don’t understand why she does all this for me.

- We can stop if it bothers you, I begin again.

- Are you done? You don’t need to be embarrassed because I’m helping you study. Let me look at your exercise now.

I stay quiet to avoid disturbing her further. I wonder where her math skills come from. She has good logic and had no trouble finding my mistakes yesterday. She’s not very old. Maybe she just recently left school. That would answer my questions. Honestly, who remembers things like this? It’s not like it’s useful every day!

- How old are you?

- We never ask a person’s age, Ona, she replies. It’s rude and inappropriate, especially since I’m your supervisor. For your math problem, you just need to factorize the function.

- What? Seriously, I have to factorize again?

- Yeah. It’s exactly the kind of case you might have tomorrow. Just think a little. Pen, she says, holding out her hand.

I hand it to her, and she starts explaining while twisting in all directions to find a good position. She eventually comes around to sit beside me. She helps me factorize the function, then gives me the formula to use. In the end, it wasn’t so complicated with her help.

- When you can’t do something, you need to find other solutions. There are always some.

- Alright, I sigh.

- Do you want to do another one on your own?

- That’s okay, thanks. I’ve bothered you enough with my math. I’ll review tonight.

- We have more time today, so let’s make the most of it. You’re going to do another one on your own; I want to make sure you’ve understood.

I groan in frustration, which makes her smile. I thought I could escape, but she doesn’t seem to agree. She rewrites a formula similar to the one we just did. She already made me redo what I couldn’t do yesterday. It’s quite an effective method because I manage it each time afterward. She gives me three more, which I finish in half an hour.

- Well, it looks like you’ve understood. I think we can stop.

I sigh in relief, collapsing against my chair. She laughs and offers me a glass of water, which I gladly accept. I put my brain on pause while I drink from the cup she hands me.

- It’s only five o’clock. Do you want to look at your choices tonight or tomorrow?

I think about it. My brain is mush. I’m tempted to say tomorrow, but I want to get this problem resolved as quickly as possible. I’m afraid it will take longer than it should. Neither option really interests me, so I need to decide.

- Tonight, if you don’t mind.

- Not at all. Let’s see what we have. You have the forms, I hope?

- Of course.

I put away all my math stuff and replace it with my registration form and the list of available options. She takes the latter and sits comfortably in her chair, crossing her legs. She studies the sheet while finishing her drink.

- Alright. There are already a few we can eliminate, right?

- Yes, like sports.

- Yes, she laughs. It’s a shame because you have the potential to go far with the mental toughness you have. By the way, you’ve abandoned me for the runs.

I look at her strangely. Me, good potential in sports? What a joke!

- You’re the one who was sulking, I reply. You’re the first to know that sports and I don’t mix, and that I’m not motivated to do any.

- Hey! she says, hitting my arm. I wasn’t sulking! I was just giving you a taste of your own medicine. Anyway, let’s cross out sports, you’re right, she concludes. Maybe in an other universe you would have been an athlete.

I open my mouth as she crosses it out on the sheet.

- Hey! Why are you writing on it! I exclaim. You shouldn’t!

- This sheet isn’t to be returned, Ona, she giggles.

- Oh, I say, mortified under her laughter.

- Alright, let’s be serious. Have you already thought about a future career perhaps? Let’s start with that.

I think about her question. I never had the chance to seriously think about it. Choices for my studies were always imposed on me.

- You must have thought about it before, right?

- No, I remain honest, playing timidly with my fingers.

I feel ashamed. Who hasn’t thought about their future except me? I stopped school after my diploma, without thinking about what came next. I never studied something I truly liked. Bronze puts her hand on my knee, as if trying to reassure me.

- Hey, it’s okay, it’s nothing serious. It’s going to be more complicated than expected, but it will be sorted out. Better late than never, right?

I smile timidly, nodding. She smiles back. I’m glad I consulted her. If I hadn’t, I would have probably chosen an option randomly, without really thinking about it. At least now I won’t choose at random.

- I understand better why you come to see me, and you’re doing the right thing. Let’s start from the beginning. You were in high school, so you must have studied a specialty, right?

- Science and medicine. My mother is a surgeon. She wanted me to follow in her footsteps, I explain. My father convinced me to accept, but it’s not at all what I want to do.

- At least you already know what you don’t want, she says, crossing out the option with a small smile.

- You can also cross out engineering, I giggle.

- That’s true, she crosses it out. Do you want to do something related to art?

- There’s no option for that. It’s annoying because that’s what interests me the most.

- No, but we could find possibilities that are close to it, you see? You like literature too, right?

I smile and nod. What she said earlier was true. She listens and is interested in what I say because I had already told her about my love for literature.

- So, literature could be one of the three options, right?

- Yes, it could be, I nod again.

- Hmm, she smiles, putting a check next to it. We’re making progress. Don’t forget that the order is important too. If the first one is accepted, you won’t be able to fall back on the others.

- Yes, I understood.

She scratches her head with the back of my pen. She must be thinking as much as I am. I have already studied all my possibilities to be honest. I had come to the conclusion that it would be literature, but it would annoy me to fall back on this option knowing that it’s far from being related to drawing.

- I imagine we’re forgetting math specialty? she giggles.

- Are you mocking me? I pull an exaggerated face.

- Far from it, she mocks.

- Well… You’re not wrong anyway…

- That’s what I thought, she laughs. Well, let’s go back to art then. There are several possibilities. I imagine you prefer practicing?

- Well... Yeah. What else would you want me to do?

- Well, you could also run a gallery. That would be more about management in that case. Do you see what I mean?

- I never saw it from that angle... I admit.

- That aspect could be interesting for you if you plan to be self-employed in the long term. It’s never a bad idea to have a foundation in management.

I never saw my future that far ahead. To be honest, all I dream about right now is being able to make a living from my talent. However, Bronze has a very different vision from mine. She doesn’t only see the present moment, she sees the entirety of a professional career.

- It’s true that it’s a good idea... I never thought of that. Is there an option like that?

- Well, yes. But I doubt you’ll like it.

- What’s the option? I ask cautiously.

- Business management. It’s equivalent to an MBA in regular universities.

- Oh... Isn’t that difficult?

- It’s a mix of management, finance, and commerce. It requires a lot of logic and is very math-heavy, so it’s up to you.

I nervously bite my lip. This idea suddenly cools me down. I doubt I’d enjoy it. Bronze must have sensed it given the smile she gives me.

- I warned you that the idea might not please you.

- Indeed, I agree, sighing. Can I ask what you studied? Maybe it’ll give me an idea.

Bronze looks at me for a moment, as if deciding whether or not to tell me. I know she doesn’t like talking about herself and that my question is risky. However, nothing ventured, nothing gained.

- I was going for an athlete scholarship, but a knee injury at the end of the year prevented me from getting it. I was then offered to switch to a management program like an MBA in sports.

- What do you mean? I frown.

- It’s a special track that allows studying sports management instead of business management, she shrugs. Few schools offer it. I was lucky that the one I applied to as an athlete did. It was that or staying in Portugal with a lousy program and school.

-So… You have a good background in management, if I understand correctly?

- I suppose so, since I graduated, she replies with a smirk.

- No... Well, that's not what I meant... Is there a big difference compared to the program offered by the school? I’m being silly, you probably don’t know...

- I think I can help you study, if that's your question.

I nod slightly. I appreciate how quickly Bronze understands. Sometimes I wonder how she does it, because I'm far from being very explicit.

- It shouldn't be too bad then...

- As I said earlier, management is still a good foundation that will always be useful in life. However, I don't want to push you into it if you don’t like it. That's not the goal.

- No, but you're right. I can't pursue art here, so I might as well go for something that will be useful, right? At least I'll have a fallback option in any case.

- So, do you want to keep that option then?

- Yeah, in first position.

- Really? she raises an eyebrow. Wouldn’t you prefer to put literature first? It would be a bit more creative, even if it's not related to art.

- No. The goal isn’t to become a librarian or something. I'd rather put it as a second option.

- It's up to you. And for the last option then?

- I'm not too sure. I was thinking about foreign languages. I’m pretty good at them and I like breaking down international barriers. Do people usually get their last options?

- No, never in the final year, but it’s still good to have three options. It’s in the first year that class allocation is more challenging. Students are still figuring things out, like you right now, so there are always options that interest some more than others.

- How do they allocate students then?

- Well, based on grades. They take the best students to reward them. In the second year, some students switch options if the first one didn’t convince them. And since changes can only be made once, there’s hardly any class switching in the final year. So, the third option is rarely reached.

- I see. Well, it doesn't matter then. I could put languages, sports, or even engineering!

- I wouldn't do that if I were you, she laughs. You never know. Management and literature options might already be full.

- Do you think I have a chance in sports...? I ask hesitantly. Never mind, forget it, I say seeing her reaction. It's a ridiculous idea.

I lower my head, mortified with shame. Sometimes I should just keep my mouth shut. She already told me she wouldn’t take sports for me. I thought about it because I know half of my friends will choose that option. I felt my head being lifted by two fingers under my chin. Bronze smiles at me with such kindness in her expression.

- You have a serious lack of self-confidence, Ona. I think you have potential that you probably don't even notice. You don't even realize how you always push yourself to the limit when you get a bit of encouragement. You've never given up on my punishments, even though others would have certainly done so in your place.

- At the same time, you don't give me a choice...

- I might be nicer to you normally, but I’m stricter with my punishments.

I look at her with wide eyes at these revelations. I didn’t know it was the case. She clears her throat seeing the look on my face.

- Well, it was the case at the beginning. I stopped since you calmed down. Believe me, I've never seen someone with a mentality like yours. You weren't athletic, yet you accepted my punishments. By the way, I'd like to see you again during my morning runs.

I grimace at the thought. This girl is crazy. How can she keep running when it's freezing outside! I don’t know if she realizes that snow is about to fall soon. One thing she’s right about is that I have no self-confidence. My past experiences have a lot to do with it. She doesn’t realize that she’s the one helping me get better. She pushes me to do things I would never have accomplished before. It's only because I feel she believes in me. More than I do, more than anyone.

- It’s negotiable. It’s way too cold to run right now.

- Hmm, she smiles. You’re a wimp!

- You can’t use my pride against me!

- Yes, I can, she giggles. Alright, back to the options. I wouldn’t put sports. It doesn’t align with your plans and there’s no need to include it just to be with your friends for a semester.

I blush at her raised eyebrow. Damn, she got it all. She must know Alexia is taking that option.

- If you want to do sports, do it as a hobby. Like running, for example...

- I won’t change my mind, I chuckle. Well, you’re right. I’ll stick with languages then.

- Or you could put medicine, since it would be a continuation of your studies.

- No thanks. I spent my high school years studying something that doesn’t interest me. I don’t want to go through that again and especially not to please my mother.

- Alright, she nods.

What I appreciate about Bronze is that she never asks personal questions. Or very rarely. She’ll always let me come to her when I want to open up on my own. I sigh, massaging my temples. My brain is starting to overheat from thinking. I’m glad to see the end in sight.

- It’s only Tuesday. You still have two evenings to think about it calmly.

- I don’t need to think any more. It will be management, literature, and foreign language.

- Well, if you’re decided... You can also put history if you prefer.

- You’re silly, I chuckle. Is it from spending time with you?

- Definitely.

- Oh, I say, placing my hand on my heart. You break my heart, I add dramatically.

- Poor little thing, she laughs.

I pout with crossed arms. I try to keep the expression, but it’s difficult when Bronze is smiling so broadly. She then pinches my cheek to tease me.

- Oh, but look at the big baby pouting.

- Stop it, I giggle, wriggling my head to escape her grasp. I’m not a kid.

- Oh, but you are, she says bluntly. I’ll consider you differently when you prove it to me.

- I’ve already proven it to you!

- Hmm... No. Not enough.

- Tsss. It shouldn’t be someone barely older than me telling me that.

- How much are you willing to give me? she smiles.

Where’s the catch? I thought she was going to brush me off like earlier when I asked her age. Why is she playing along? Well, why not if it helps me get some information about her...

- Twenty-seven? I say randomly.

- Hmm... Interesting.

- Am I getting warm?

- You’ll never know, she laughs.

I roll my eyes. Missed it. Of course, she won’t tell me anything. And I’m the kid? I’m convinced she’s not more mature than I am if she lets loose outside the establishment. Unless she’s really uptight, but I doubt it. She really exudes a strong self-confidence.

- It’s not fair, I say, crossing my arms. By the way, when is your birthday?

- Why does it interest you?

- Well, it interests me! I’d like to be able to wish you a happy birthday like you did for me.

- You won’t be able to. You’ll already be back in Barcelona when I have another year.

- Who says I’m going back?

- It seems obvious. Aren’t those your intentions?

I think I’ve piqued her curiosity. I smile, thinking that I’m not the only one curious here.

- I don’t know. I’ve been asking myself a lot of questions lately.

- Why? You have your life over there.

- Yeah. My life with a lot of bad memories.

- Is it because you’re on bad terms with your family?

- Among other things... With what I’ve been through the last two years too.

I fall back into my memories. I still feel just as bad thinking about it. She places her hand on my shoulder to keep me from sinking into my thoughts. She gives me a smile that would reassure anyone.

- You’re not alone anymore. I’m here if you need it, just like Alexia and the others. I’ll never leave you, and if you ever need to confide, I’ll be all ears.

She puts a bit more pressure on my shoulder. I smile faintly. I just need a bit of support and she offers it willingly. I’m on the verge of speaking, but I can’t yet. It’s still too hard. Just thinking about it brings tears to my eyes. I try to control them to keep them from rolling down my cheeks. I know that if I ever feel the need to open up, it will be to her. I trust her. It won’t be Alexia or even Mapi, but Bronze. She’s the only one who has reached a level where she has influence in my life. I’m simply not ready yet. To avoid breaking down, I decide to change the subject entirely.

- I need to fill out the form.

She nods understandingly, removing her hand from my shoulder. I immediately miss her touch. It was reassuring. She pushes the form in front of me, placing my pen on it.

- Only fill it out if you’re sure.

I don’t hesitate at any moment when writing down my choices on the dotted lines. They can only be the right ones. Her advice has been valuable, and I know she’ll help me if I run into difficulties. I like all the options. Even the languages will be useful later if I work with foreigners. International communication is important. I just hope my first choice gets approved. Bronze and I exchange a smile when I put the pen down. I take a deep breath and slump back into the chair. I look at the sheet where the options are proudly written. I have no regrets. Now, we’ll have to wait for the results. I check my watch, which reads six o'clock. It took an hour for me to finally know what to do with my life. She really took her time with me. Three hours have passed since I sat in this chair.

- By the way, you didn’t answer about your birthday.

- October 28th.

I look at her in surprise, not expecting a real answer. She smiles with amusement.

- Alright, I’ll make a note of it.

- Well, I still have some work to do, she says, standing up.

- Thank you for your help.

- You don’t need to thank me, she smiles as she sits down across from me.

- Do you mind if I stay a bit longer to work?

- No. The door is always open, as you can see, she says, pointing to the door.

- Haha! I just want to review my math and then I’ll leave you alone.

- You have a lot of courage, she chuckles.

- Good grades are earned, and it saves me from doing it tonight.

- True. You’d better get a good grade after all this studying, or you’ll hear about it from me.

I nod with a smile. I hope so too. I could have met up with Alexia, but I don’t want to. I need to succeed in my test, and studying is the key to success. My smile doesn’t leave my face as I watch Bronze resume her work. I’m glad things are finally falling into place since yesterday.

[ovaryacted]

A little announcement cause I have to be real with y’all.

I’m not going to lie, I’ve been on the precipice of getting overwhelmed not just with writing but with my life as a whole. I’m falling behind at work with assignments that keep piling up and the past two weeks have just been a mess that derailed me. So I’ve been doing damage control trying to restart and get reorganized before it gets out of hand.

There are only 24 hours in the day, most of that time is spent working at my job and I work a busy and time consuming legal job where I can’t fuck around and scroll. I usually do that on my lunch break and disappear for the rest of the day, and now I’m picking up somebody else’s slack cause they quit, so their workload is going to be transferred to me, which is a lot as it is.

When I get home, it’s more stuff I have to deal with. I don’t always have time for myself. I live with my family who lack boundaries and who constantly need me so I’m always doing something for them (eldest daughter curse). I cover bills and expenses here and I’m usually forced to interact with extended family on the weekends so I don’t always get to enjoy them or use those two days productively to write. My household is noisy, my upstairs toxic ass neighbors aren’t helping, and overall rent is so godamn high in my city I can’t move out on my own unless I live with roommates or fuck somebody’s rich daddy for a $50k down payment on an apartment (and I just might).

Somehow, with everything I just said, I still need to find the time to make meals for myself, exercise, be social, invest in my hobbies (writing being the main one), and prep to work on applications for law school which is a year long process starting with taking the law school entrance exam that I have to ace. And of course, dodging seasonal depression is the biggest thing, cause when it’s bad, it’s bad.

All of that being said, I just don’t have enough time to write as quickly or eloquently as I want. I’m the most productive at 12 am - 3 am, but staying up late to write all the time when I need to be up in 5 hrs for work isn’t healthy. I’m not the fastest writer or reader, and I take writing seriously and passionately despite it being a hobby because I want it to be good, because I want people to enjoy it, and because I want to make myself proud since this is something I’ve always wanted to do. I’ve never half-assed my work, and I don’t want to start now nor am I making excuses, but things are getting hectic for me. I mean, I’m falling behind on WIPs, I’m falling behind on interactions, I’m falling behind on reading fics I want to read and finishing projects I’ve been planning for a while. I legit cried yesterday cause I was getting frustrated with a WIP I’m working on. If that’s not sign enough I gotta chill and not think this is all a race, then the next time it hits me I’ll crash out. It’s just a lot.

So, if you see me not being as active in the next couple of weeks or this month, don’t get worried, I’m probably still writing but I just gotta focus and tackle some shit first before bouncing back. For my mutuals who have me on here or discord, you can send me posts you want me to see since I have my notifications off (I promise I’m not ignoring you). I’ll be actively working on the pieces I have for challenges from August & September, and I’m forcing myself to finish them this month if I can.

I don’t want to get burnt out like I did last year, because I enjoy writing and I love doing this, but I just need to find that balance again cause I lost it. I’ll be in and out on here. 🫶

[funnuraba]

I've been compiling a list of weird or embarrassing warning signs of ME/CFS or Long Covid. Perhaps you have noticed these in yourself, but they've seemed too minor, confusing or embarrassing to ask about or look up. In any case, I've gathered these from online posts, so you'll never know which, if any, have happened to me, which I think is a very clever move on my part. Okay I did start complaining near the end, but I added some helpful solutions you may purchase, which I had to figure out on my own.

Actually I'm gonna lead with the absolute weirdest one, because it's a sign of the initial acute Covid infection that can be hard to detect now. I've only seen a post about this once, but a bunch of people agreed with it and said it happened to them:

If the skin on the soles of your feet is suddenly super thick and dry, that is associated with the initial 'Vid infection. I don't know how long this is supposed to last, but it was vouched for by several accounts I felt were trustworthy. I had to look up "Covid feet soles" on Twitter to check for this, forgetting that Twitter search now just randomly shows you posts with only one word that you entered, and I didn't find the post I remembered but I am not going back in there.

Extremely ridged and brittle fingernails (apparently this is showing up a lot on beauty subreddits and such)

Shrinking or vanished half-moons on the fingernails (I don't know if the level of shrinking is random, or related to severity/length of time)

Thinning hair/balding: seems to follow the usual pattern of your dominant hormone, so estrogen-heavy people get thinning hair, particularly along the center of the scalp, and testosterone-heavy people get receding hairlines and bald spots. There's no single pattern that everyone with ME gets. (Although ME is much more common in AFAB people.)

Incontinence that's not associated with age or childbirth, etc. In this case it's due to nerve damage, not weakening muscles.

Pins and needles, or sharp shooting pains in your fingers and toes: this is called neuropathy and it's also a sign of nerve damage. (I got a ton of this and thought I might be pre-diabetic, because that's all that came up when I searched! I asked doctors about this and they just went "oh 😐 " so I exercised a bunch and probably made myself much sicker XD. Anyway magnesium supplements helped a lot with this! You need a magnesium complex that includes magnesium glycinate, because other types are really hard for the body to absorb.)

Sudden acid reflux and heavy gas, loss of tolerance for foods you could once eat: this is associated with aging, but if it's really really bad? Like remember a year or so ago,when suddenly everyone was posting about how their tummy hurt and they were being really brave about it, and it kind of came out of nowhere and had never been a meme before? Almost like it was sort of new for this to be so very widespread? Yeah, Covid can fuck your system up real bad, and this is a common comorbidity of ME called gastroparesis. Basically your stomach muscles are as weak and slow as your other muscles, so your food sits in there for way too long. It often comes with Mast Cell Activation Syndrome, which is bad news and means a ton of new sensitivities, to food and other things. MCAS goes along with a lot of other unexplained body syndromes that doctors don't really "get" or care about.

Being super itchy in one spot for no reason: this is a histamine dump. MCAS again. I'll admit to this one too. A couple of years ago, my lower legs started getting super itchy after showers, and I would pour on the lotion, over and over, and it would do nothing. "What the heck has happened to my skin?" I would wonder. It was histamines, roaming wildly through my body from the hot water and standing up for too long!! The standard ME advice for histamine stuff is:

10mg Loratidine 2x daily (I've just discovered that this can fuck up your stomach and a bunch of other stuff though; see this Twitter thread for alternate antihistamines)

20mg Famotidine 2x

Quercetin daily (I'm doing 1000mg a day)

Some kind of Cromolyn thing. I take a NasalCrom spray a couple times a day, because my sinuses swell up when I lie down (?), which I have to do all the time now. Lol.

Anyway, your sinuses can swell up when you lie down, did you know that? At first it would just happen sometimes, and I would be like why am I suffocating? That's so crazy haha. So I got these things called nasal cones that keep your nasal passages open, and they're just a little bit too big so they slide out all the time, and it's really annoying but other than that they worked. (My brand is Max-Air, the Sinus Relief line.) Then I got reinfected this year, and now my sinuses swell up constantly when I'm lying down. Hence the Cromolyn spray so I can breathe :)

The soft tissues in your face are collapsing: I think this is also an issue for me because it's not like the cones are reaching right up into my sinuses and un-swelling them, right? Anyway other people have reported some really serious issues with eyelids and noses, etc.

Your mouth and nose no longer produce moisture: okay so I got this too, and as a result I must use Ayr brand saline nasal gel multiple times a day, or else it feels like I'm suffocating. I'm pretty sure this Sjogren's Syndrome, another common comorbidity. For me it was one of the first signs something was wrong, circa 2020. Again, I thought pre-diabetes and asked multiple doctors for input and they went "iunno 😐". For the mouth, Xylimelts are your only real choice; don't bother with anything else when it gets to this level. You keep a Xylimelt in your mouth, 24/7, stuck to your teeth, or else you experience the intense, maddening distress of a totally dry mouth. If either of those solutions wears off during the night: don't worry! You'll wake up!!! Don't worry about choking on the Xylimelt, though, it's very safe.

Skin stuff: Dark, flaky patches of skin on the torso, long dark lines around the neck, pruny fingers, skin randomly splitting like paper cuts, chilblains, nails peeling off, other weird stuff.

Swollen genitals: settle down.

[kingofthering]

vr46 marc, 890 words taking place a handful of hours after this

"The fact that you were into men or the fact that you were into me?"

Marc snorts, shrugging his shoulders at Valentino's question. The second option implies the first. The first could have easily been converted into the second, if needs be. They both know it.

Valentino's focus is back on his task at hand when he says "I mean, I had an inkling before. Indianapolis sealed the deal, the months after that didn't exactly show signs of the opposite."

"You never said anything."

Marc's tone is not accusatory, not really. Valentino's face doesn't show any reaction to it. He's still kneading his pasta dough.

"I did not."

"Why?"

Valentino pauses, cleaning his hands on a hand towel before reaching for his glass of wine. Marc watches the way his throat works as he takes a couple of sips from the red liquid.

If Valentino says he wasn't into Marc back then, Marc might have to call him a liar just to avenge his bruised ego.

"It wouldn't have been my first time hooking up with another rider, another rival, and let's say it got messy in the past and I didn't want to go through that again."

Marc frowns, his mind immediately trying to figure out who it could have been, some options more disturbing than others. It's easier to go through that exercise than process the fact that Valentino theoretically wanted him.

"Well, I was older already back then, I probably could have protected myself, not get attached, all that. You were 20 years-old, Marc, I didn't want to mess you up."

So too young to not fall in love with Valentino and suffer the consequences of that but old enough to suffer through his mind games and the stupidest of accusations. Valentino's brain will never cease to amaze him.

Or Valentino stopped caring about his wellbeing the moment he had a Championship bike and Marc was too much of a threat for his goal.

It makes sense. Marc doesn't know if it's more painful knowing Valentino willingly gave up on a relationship he cared about rather than thinking he never cared in the first place. And yet, Marc knows he will always take the first option (means it wasn't all in his head, at least).

"You wanted me," Marc says after a while, because there is so much to unpack there but he needs to start somewhere.

Valentino chuckles. "Is that so hard to believe? Look who's fishing for compliments, now."

Marc shrugs, a smile on his lips as he reaches for the bottle of wine to refill his glass.

"You know what you looked like, face and body wise," Valentino indulges him. "You know what you were like on track. You know what you were like adrenaline filled in parc fermé and on podiums."

Marc feels hot, his cheeks heating up. He thinks about Laguna Seca and the corkscrew overtake he borrowed from Valentino a couple of years prior. He thinks about Barcelona, Valentino's hands around his throat and Marc's family watching them. He thinks about Assen, that last corner and how happy Valentino had been afterward.

And in the corner of his brain, that silly little question : Would you have followed me if I'd taken the first step?

"What about after?" is the question that Marc ends up voicing outloud. "Or did I disgust you too much to even consider hate sex?"

No longer caring about Marc's mental wellbeing was one thing but maybe Valentino didn't even want to touch him. Not that Marc ever thought about it before but now, Valentino strikes him as someone who would enjoy hate fucking you. It has to come with how intense he is about everything.

Marc couldn't for the sole reason that he needs to at least like the person he's intimate with. He doesn't need the romantic connection, he's had great friends with benefits situations and he can do one night stands if he had the time to learn about the other person just a bit.

To be vulnerable in front of someone who doesn't wish him well? A concept he can understand for others but not for him.

"Can't say I've never considered it. Especially after moments where you were infuriating, whether from how stupid you were with your words or how good you were on your bike," Valentino says, way too casual for the words pouring out of his mouth.

Again, realizing the effects Marc has had on Valentino in the past, by just being himself, is as empowering as it is frightening, in a way.

"But," Marc says, because the answer to his question is still missing.

Valentino shrugs. He has put their ball of pasta dough away in a salad bowl and covered it with a towel. He's swinging his wine around by moving his glass in small circles on the table, now. "Didn't feel right."

It's not "I knew you wouldn't be into it".

It's not "I wasn't into you anymore".

It's not "I'm the one that would have hurt himself then", either.

Marc needs free range to study Valentino's brain under a microscope.

[stargazer-sims]

The Art of Redemption

(part 15)

previous // next // story index

—————

A lot can change in a week.

Beth-Anne is astounded at how much progress Nikolai has made in just seven days. Considering how goal-driven he is, she probably shouldn't be astonished, but his quick transformation is more than she could've reasonably expected. His physical recovery is on track, he's gotten back his energy and focus, and he seems far less anxious. It’s a relief to her, seeing him returning to his old self.

At his checkup on Wednesday, the doctor and the sports therapist both cleared him to walk without crutches, and the sports therapist fitted him with a compression knee sleeve that he's supposed to wear when he's active. He's allowed to walk on the treadmill for up to thirty minutes a day, broken into ten-minute sessions, and he's supposed to keep up with his physiotherapy exercises. No leg weights and no stationary bicycle, the therapist said, which he frowned at but ultimately agreed to.

The thing Nikolai appeared to be most pleased about was the fact that he no longer requires weekly checkups. The sports therapist said he'd have him come back in two weeks' time to check his progress and possibly increase his exercise level.

"You'll have to come back by yourself," Beth-Anne told him. "Or get your grandfather to bring you if you don't have your car back by then, because I'll be in South Korea with Brett."

"Junior Worlds. Right. I'm sure Grandpa can bring me." He turned his attention back to the therapist. "So, in two weeks I should be able to start running again?"

The therapist bestowed him with an amused smile. "Athletes are all the same. You're all in a rush to be rid of your restrictions. But yes, if you do everything you're supposed to, in two weeks you should be able to do some light running on the treadmill. Perhaps you can do outdoor running and use your leg weights and ride your bike a couple of weeks after that."

Nikolai's next question came as no surprise to Beth-Anne. "When can I skate?"

"Let's give that some time."

"Yes, but how much time?"

"I think he's looking for a realistic timeline," Beth-Anne intervened.

"Another six to eight weeks at the very least before I'd be comfortable clearing you for that," the therapist said. "It may be longer, depending on your progress. Ideally, I'd like to see that knee fully stable and I'd like to see you regain some muscle before you get on the ice again."

Nikolai counted on his fingers. "Eight weeks would be... mid-May?"

"About then, I think," the therapist said.

"Okay. I can live with that. I'll be busy doing my coaching certification course between now and then anyway."

That was another thing. Even before his appointment with the doctor and therapist, he'd gone ahead and signed himself up for both the basic and advanced coach training courses.

He's going to need the basic certification just to be permitted to work with kids without supervision from another professionally certified coach, and the advanced level is necessary for him to work one-on-one with students who are training to compete in officially-recognized national and international events. The basic course is just four days long and the next available one is at the end of March. The next advanced level course is taking place over the last two weeks of April and the first week of May.

The timing couldn't possibly be more fortuitous, Beth-Anne thinks. He should be able to return to the ice around the same time he receives his full certification. Most group skating programs pause for the summer, so that will free up some of her time to work with him, to help him rebuild his confidence on the ice if he needs that, and to teach him everything she knows about teaching others. With any luck, by the time group classes resume at the beginning of September, he'll be ready for a small group of his own.

As soon as they got home from the sports medicine clinic, Nikolai went straight to his room. He came back to the kitchen only a couple minutes later with his skate bag, sat himself down on a kitchen chair and promptly pulled off his socks.

"What are you doing?" Beth-Anne inquired.

He glanced up at her, his expression plainly broadcasting that it should be obvious and she she shouldn't need to ask. Still, he replied, "Putting my skates on."

"Why?" she asked.

"Because I miss them," he said.

"Okay, but don't you dare stand up in them. Just because you're not on the ice, that doesn't mean it doesn't count."

"I won't, I promise. I just want them on. I miss how they feel on my feet."

Fair enough, she thought. She watched him slip his feet into the boots and meticulously lace them up. He sat there with his skates on for the next half-hour, while she made sandwiches and they ate lunch together. After lunch, he took them off again and put them away, and she didn't make any further comment about it. The way she saw it, if it made him happy and it hadn't done him any harm, who was she to question it?

Slightly amused at the memory, she wonders how many more times she'll catch him with his skates on between now and the middle of May. She doubts it was a one-off, and she has no trouble conjuring up a mental image of him contentedly wearing his skates while he reads, or eats, or writes something for the new online blog he's created to chronicle his coaching journey.

She smiles. She's watched him grow from an impulsive and sometimes silly teenager into a mature and responsible adult, but it's gratifying to know that he hasn't completely lost his adolescent whimsy. In some ways, he's still very much a kid, and she thinks those qualities of playfulness, imagination, resilience and courage will serve him well, not just as a coach and teacher but in his personal life too. He may be going through an exceptionally difficult time at the moment, but she can see the light at the end of this dark tunnel and she's sure he can as well.

He's going to be all right, she tells herself. It's still going to take time, but he sees the way forward now, and I don't believe anything's going to stop him.

She doesn't have enough words to describe how much she admires him for that.

This morning, she'd awakened with a sense of lightness she hasn't felt in a while. Her concerns are all still there, of course, but she has the feeling this is going to be a great day despite all the problems and worries crowded at the back of her mind.

That stuff can wait.

Now that Nikolai is off his crutches, she decides today is the perfect day to get him off the bench and let him come down onto the ice with her. She can introduce him to all the kids and let him interact with them. He knows Stan's grandson Marek, and she's certain he's already bonded with little Eden, but he still hasn't met the girls, Everleigh, Madison and Sienna. There's also her Saturday preschool group for him to meet, and her two Novice division students, Katie and Ruby. She hopes all the kids like him as much as Eden seems to, both for his comfort and theirs.

She climbs out of bed and does her best to hurry through her morning routine. Regardless of her efforts, however, when she makes her way downstairs, she discovers that Nikolai has gotten out of bed ahead of her. He's already showered, dressed and in the middle of making breakfast. The scent of coffee wafts across her nostrils.

"Morning, coach," he greets her. "Your makeup looks good."

"Thanks." She gestures toward the stove. "I see my cooking lessons are already paying off."

He grins. "Well, I'm not ready to host my own cooking show or anything yet, but I think I'm doing all right."

She's treated to her favourite ham and cheese omelette, fried potatoes, and cut-up red grapefruit drizzled with honey. It may not be gourmet, but it is delicious and she enjoys every bite. It's especially pleasant to sit down to a meal she didn't have to prepare for herself.

"I could get used to this," she says, as she savours the final bite of grapefruit. "You making us breakfast, I mean."

"We can make it a regular thing," he says. “Turns out I like cooking. It’s not as daunting as I thought, so I’m sure I could be in charge of making breakfast for us.”

"Oh? So I take it you've changed your mind about going home?"

He swallows the last of his coffee and sets the mug down carefully. "I've been thinking about it. I was kind of worried that me being here was too much for you, but if you're okay with me staying, maybe I will stay."

"You're not too much. I like having you here. It's nice to have company, but like I told you before, the choice is entirely up to you."

"I'll stay for a little longer, then," he says. "Anya's staying with her grandparents for some reason. I don't know if she's planning to go home soon, but if she is, I... kinda don't want to be there."

"Understandable, but you know you'll need to deal with that situation at some point."

"I know." He rotates the empty coffee mug between his hands. "I think I'm just scared."

"Of Anya?"

He nods. "Is that stupid?"

"No, I don't think so," Beth-Anne says. "I can see how she'd be scary."

"I want a divorce, but I don't want to fight about it. All I want is the house and my cat. She can have anything else she wants. Money, furniture, the car... whatever. I just want us to live separate lives from now on."

"If you want my opinion, you'd be better off living separate lives."

"It's obvious we can't have a life together any more," he says. "The problem is, I don't want to talk to her about it because I'm scared she'll cause a scene."

"In that case, maybe you shouldn't talk about it with her. Maybe you should hire a lawyer and get them to do the talking for you."

"Maybe." He runs his thumb along the rim of his mug and doesn't meet Beth-Anne's eyes. "I just don't want any drama. You know I hate that. If I got a lawyer, I'm worried the whole thing would drag on for ages, and Anya would tell everybody about everything, every chance she got. I'd rather just agree that it's over, do the court paperwork ourselves and get it out of the way as quickly as we can."

"If that's what you want, then you'll have to swallow your fear and tell her," Beth-Anne says. "I know it's hard, but you have to believe in getting what you want. That's..."

"...that's part of how you succeed," he finishes the sentence with her. All of a sudden, he's smiling again. "You know, I told Eden that."

Perplexed, she says. "About... divorce?"

"No, about winning skating competitions. Remember, you said that to me for the first time way back when I was seventeen? When I was having that big existential crisis because you were my third coach in my first three years at Senior level.”

"You thought the problem was you."

"Well, it sort of was, according to Uncle Stan."

"But it was because you were too good, not because you weren't good enough," she reminds him.

“I know that now, but it was a struggle to get my head around it at the time. The whole thing was pretty stressful.”

"I know, but you handled it like a champion, and it didn’t take you long to settle in with me.”

“Because you promised you’d stick with me no matter what, and I trusted you. I felt safe with you. That gave me a lot of confidence, and it let me relax and enjoy myself a lot more."

“I remember. One of the first things I asked you was what you wanted, and the first thing you told me wasn't that you wanted to win. You said you wanted to be happy and have fun."

"Yeah, but I still wanted to win. I wanted it really bad, and I was frustrated because I wasn't doing as well as I thought I should with Uncle Stan or my other coach before him."

"I could tell you wanted to win," she says. "I can tell you still do."

"I do," he concedes. "Winning might look different now, but I still want to. I think if I can help somebody else the way you helped me, that'll feel like winning to me just as much as it does to them."

"I think it will too," Beth-Anne says. "It did for me when I watched you win, and it's the same with Brett and Mariah and the others."

"And they'll be more likely to win if they're happy and having fun, right?"

"Right."

"But, even if they don't win, the important thing is that they're still doing what they enjoy."

Beth-Anne nods. "You're going to be an excellent coach."

"I hope so," he says. "I want to make you proud."

"I'm already proud of you," she tells him. "You're the best son I never had."

He smiles. "The son you always wanted?"

"Not always, but definitely from the moment I realized my life would be a lot emptier without you in it," she says. "And I'm glad you're staying."

"Until I finish my coaching courses at least, if that's all right."

"Absolutely. Consider this your home for as long as you like."

"Thanks," he says.

They finish their breakfast and do the washing up as quickly as they can, and manage to get out the door right on schedule. Even with a stop at Tim Horton's for more coffee, they make it to the arena at 7:45 on the dot.

It's still not early enough to get there before her first students arrive, though.

She's torn between laughter and exasperation when she spots Eden Seong and Marek Zelenka peeking around the edge of the propped-open door from the corridor that leads to one of the practice rinks. When Marek sees her, he gives her a brief wave. Then, he leans down to say something quietly to Eden, which Beth-Anne can’t hear. The kids grin at each other.

The next thing Beth-Anne knows, the two little boys charge through the doorway and race across the foyer, straight toward her and Nikolai. They’re both shouting Nikolai's name at the top of their voices.

Nikolai reaches out to catch Marek, but both boys seem to misinterpret the movement as an invitation for a group hug. Somehow, Nikolai ends up sitting on the floor with Marek and Eden half on top of him and looking like they're competing to see who's more capable of squishing him. All three of them are laughing.

"Nikolai, it worked!" Eden practically yells.

"Yeah!" Marek chimes in. "I don't know what you said, but it totally worked!"

Beth-Anne isn't entirely sure what Eden and Marek are talking about, but she doesn't get a chance to ask before someone else appears in the doorway. It's Stan. He has a small skate bag in each hand, and several wisps of silver hair escaping from his stubby ponytail. If she didn't know better, she'd say he slept in the sweatpants and long sleeved t-shirt he's wearing.

Stan jogs over to them. "I see the chaos has manifested," he says, nodding at Nikolai, Marek and Eden. "I believe these are yours now."

"Thanks. I'm so excited," Beth-Anne says, deadpan, but she's fighting like hell to hold her laughter in and keep her face neutral. Stan looks as if he can't wait to make Marek and Eden someone else's responsibility, and she's dying to know the story behind why he has both of them, and why they're here so early.

Stan holds out the skate carriers. "Boys. Your responsibilities..."

Marek and Eden scramble to their feet. Eden takes the purple skate bag from Stan's left hand and Marek claims the blue and white one from his right.

Eden cradles his skates against his chest with both arms as if he's holding something incredibly precious. He beams at Nikolai. "You fixed everything."

"I'm glad it worked out," Nikolai says, as Stan steps forward to give him a hand up. "But I'm sure it wasn't all me. I'd say Beth-Anne had something to do with it, and I think you must've been fairly persuasive on your own."

It clicks for Beth-Anne at that moment. Nikolai must've talked to Eden's parents about his future as a skater. She hadn't realized he'd talked to them, and she guesses he must've done it the previous Saturday when they came to pick Eden up after class. She'd noticed them arriving and she'd been peripherally aware of Eden leading Nikolai out of the rink area to meet them, but she hadn't interacted with them herself as she'd been occupied with setting things up for her preschool group.

It hadn't been until later in the week, after what she thought would be Eden's next-to-last individual lesson, that she'd gotten the opportunity to bring up Eden's athletic career with them again. They seemed to have softened their position, but they still hadn't completely made up their minds at that point. Evidently, they'd given it significant consideration since then.

"No, it was definitely you, Nikolai," Eden insists. "Mommy said she was sorry because she didn't think about it from my point of view. She said she and Dad were too worried about something bad happening to me on the ice to see that something even worse would happen if they made me quit. And I think part of it was 'cause they really listened when you told them how sad and depressed you were when you thought you wouldn't be able to skate any more."

Beth-Anne turns toward Nikolai. "You told Mr. and Mrs. Seong that?"

"Yeah," Nikolai admits. "I don't know if that was overstepping, but I felt like I had to try to convince them. I didn't really know how to approach it, so I just... went with honesty."

"You probably should've mentioned it to me," Beth-Anne says.

"Sorry. It actually didn't occur to me."

"It's okay," she says. "Just let me know next time if you feel the need to speak to one of my students' family members."

"I will," he says. "But, it really didn't cross my mind to say anything about last Saturday. I assumed you would've seen me talking to Eden's parents. We were in the hallway, right outside the windows."

"Never assume anything," she says, and to Eden she asks, "Should I expect to have another chat with your mom and dad today?"

"Yeah!" Eden says enthusiastically. "Mommy told me yesterday after school that I can keep skating, and she said she'd discuss everything with you today."

"Then he called me, 'cause he was so excited," Marek adds. "And I was excited too, so I invited him for a sleepover, so we could celebrate."

"You invited both of you for a sleepover at Grandma and Grandpa's house," Stan interjects. "Don't forget that important detail, Marek."

"I see," Beth-Anne says. "That explains why you look like you can't wait to pass them off to me."

"We had to go to Grandpa's house," Marek explains. "My parents aren't really into skating, but Grandpa gets it."

"The only thing Grandpa wants to get right now is a couple more hours' sleep," Stan says.

"Don't you have a group class this morning, Stan?" Beth-Anne asks.

"Hmm... at nine, but that gives me an hour or so to nap in the car. I might've been able to keep up with these two living hurricanes when I was your age, but us old people need proper rest, you know."

"Old people," Beth-Anne scoffs. "You can still run circles around most of us. But, go on. Nikolai and I can take these two from here."

Each of the boys grabs one of Nikolai's hands, and they start to pull him in the direction of the other practice rink. Marek glances back at his grandfather. "Yeah, don't worry Grandpa. We'll take it from here."

"Hmph. 'Don't worry, Grandpa' is a phrase that should be banned," Stan grumbles.

"Everything'll be fine, Uncle Stan," says Nikolai. "I've got them."

"Another phrase that should be illegal; 'Everything'll be fine, Uncle Stan'."

Marek's only response is a mischievous giggle, and Nikolai makes an inelegant snorting noise in his effort not to laugh.

Beth-Anne stands back and watches for a few seconds as Nikolai and the boys make their way across the foyer. He's definitely won their hearts, and it's already clear that little Eden has won his. She doesn't want to get ahead of herself, but she's thrilled at the news that Eden will be allowed to keep skating, and she envisions an amazing future for him in the sport.

For him and Nikolai. If ever two people were meant to be together as coach and student...

No. Don't let your imagination run away with you. One day at a time, and one step at a time, don't forget.

But, she can't completely suppress her elation. She'd woken up with the feeling that today would be great, and so far it's turning out exactly that way. She's glad of it. After making it through the turmoil of the last several weeks, she and Nikolai deserve to have a good day.

Stan steps up beside her and drapes an arm around her shoulders. "Well, he's a natural, isn't he? Your Nikolai, I mean. He's a hit with the kids."

"It would seem so," she agrees, smiling.

"I told you it'd all work out, didn't I?" He gives her shoulder an affectionate squeeze. "Don't worry. Everything will be fine."

[atmilliways]

Wrong On The Money (32)

part 32 of ?? | 1207 words | Teen+

Blackmail fic on Ao3 | on tumblr

Summary:

Steve bursts through the door like some sort of floppy haired, athletic puppy. “Hey Eds, look who I found!”  He’s dragging someone behind him by the wrist, and a very nonplussed Jeff waves hello.

(cw references to Billy's racism)

32.

Eddie has finally moved up from bed rest to shuffling around the house sometimes as long as he takes frequent breaks. Which he’s happy to do, because his PT exercises always kick his ass right into nap time. The new couch in the new living room is actually comfortable, and it's a relief to escape from his now over-familiar bedroom.

Steve bursts through the door like some sort of floppy haired, athletic puppy. “Hey Eds, look who I found!” 

He’s dragging someone behind him by the wrist, and a very nonplussed Jeff waves hello. Mouth dropping open, Eddie raises one hand for a weak wave back. 

“I have to go back to the store,” Steve says, all but bouncing on the balls of his feet as he circles back to the door. “I kinda forgot about groceries for a minute there, so, still need to get those. But you two should catch up!”

“Uh, okay?” Eddie says, and Steve flashes him a grin and two thumbs up before disappearing again. 

“What,” Jeff starts, sounding shaken, “just happened?”

Eddie shrugs. “Steve Harrington.”

“He knows where you live? He calls you Eds?”

“If it helps, the nickname is new. And, uh . . . he kind of lives here too. Loooong story.”

Jeff shoots him an incredulous look. Then he asks where the PBR is, shaking his head when Eddie admits that he can’t drink on his meds so there's none in the house. (“I can have one beer,” Eddie has whined many times, but always gets a blunt no from Wayne or Steve in response. He’s given up on sulking about it.)

First, they sit on the couch with a can of Coke each and catch up. 

Jeff’s family did leave Hawkins, but only until it was declared safe again. They’re staying with his aunt on the outskirts of town—and Eddie doesn’t know her number, which is why his calls never went through. Jeff’s actual house is still undergoing repairs before they can move back in. He’s taking a year off before college to take some of the financial pressure off his parents.

Gareth and his mom are camped out in a hotel, taking advantage of the government’s emergency subsidies for families whose houses were totally leveled. They’ll probably stay in town and buy new. 

“Frank’s folks had to move, though,” Jeff admits. “He’s on the other side of Roane County now. The high school over there doesn’t even have a D&D club.” A pause. “Oh, and I wrote to Margaret, she’s coming to visit next month to, and I quote, ‘take in the ineffable shitshow that is Hawkins, Indiana.’ I think New York is getting to her, man.”

And shit, it’ll be good to see Margaret again, same way it’s good to see Jeff and it’ll be good to see Gareth. Frank too, whenever he can swing by. Because the thing about being suddenly folded into a new friend group of monster hunters is . . . Eddie still misses his old gang. One is silver and the other’s gold, and all that bullshit. 

Eddie, for his part, gives a perfunctory explanation of the house (“Government restitution for our old place and my criminal record going through the meat grinder”) and Steve’s presence (“We talked it out, the past few months he’s just been . . . paying rent in advance”). 

Silence creeps in. Eddie sips at his Coke, slurping it in little mouthfuls as if that might continue to delay the inevitable. 

It doesn’t.

“So . . . what the hell happened, man?” 

Eddie tries not to look directly at his friend. “You mean to Hawkins?” He’d signed a shit-ton of NDAs while high off his ass on painkillers, but that still feels like the easier question to answer. 

“Dude, everyone knows about the earthquake,” Jeff scoffs. “I mean with Harrington. If you talked it out with him, why is he playing the Alfred to your Bruce Wayne?”

Thinking back to the demobats, Eddie snorts. If only Jeff knew. 

He doesn’t tell him, though. Not because of the legalities—fuck that shit, this whole mess was the government’s fault to begin with, he’s pretty sure. It’s just that, Eddie wishes he didn’t have to know. He’s not going to inflict that on a friend. 

But he does explain about Steve, more or less. 

“Okay,” Jeff says finally. “So you’re telling me that gas leak a few years ago killed Barbara Holland actually in his backyard, and the government covered it up but he still felt guilty for some reason, so he started making up for it by being less of a douchebag.” Pausing for a moment, Jeff frowns as he goes over it in his head the same way he would a campaign, ticking unspoken points off on his fingers. “The timeline works, I guess. . . . I don’t remember him causing much trouble for anyone after that fall. Hagan got worse, and Hargrove was a fucking nightmare, but the worst Harrington did was not be quite popular enough anymore to keep them in check.” Jeff looks up at Eddie. “And then . . . he started babysitting nerds? Our freshman nerds.”

They’d literally seen Steve pick the kids up from Hellfire games all school year—from a distance at first, and then close up once the blackmail had been set in motion. But Eddie gets it, because he hadn’t understood it at first either. 

“Dustin’s got him wrapped around his little finger,” he confirms. “All the little shits do. Remember when he came to school with his face all rearranged by Hargrove? Asshole was gunning for Lucas.”

That makes Jeff’s eyebrows twitch together and his mouth set in a grim line that Eddie doesn’t often see. Eddie can practically see his opinion on Steve going up based on Jeff’s own run-ins with Hargrove. “Christ.”

“Yeah.” Eddie plays with his now empty Coke can, pushing the aluminum sides in and then popping them back out again. “And then I fucking blackmailed him.”

“Not very successfully, though,” Jeff points out, scratching at the side of his jaw. “Not if his real motivation for giving you money was wanting to help out and work off some of his guilt about Barbara. Actually, he’s the one who led you on, and nobody was being intimidated by anybody. Which—I’m not going to say I told you so, but I definitely called it.”

Sputtering, Eddie tugs the tab off his can and flicks it at him. “Dick!”

“And are you still crushing on him hard?”

This time, he throws the whole can, but Jeff ducks it. 

“That’s a yes.”

“We’re friends now,” Eddie hisses, pulling hair across his face to hide his embarrassed flush. “He saved my life, and based on his cooking alone I think he’s slowly becoming Wayne’s favorite son. I can’t—”

“You said Steve was the one who brought up living with in the first place,” Jeff points out. “He knows you were both at that club for the same reason, maybe he’s . . . you know, interested. Did you ever think of that?”

“No,” Eddie grumbles, lying. “Look, Steve didn’t want to live under his asshole parents’ roof anymore. That’s it.”

He refuses to read anything else into it. That way madness lies, and too much seeing what he wants to see rather than what’s actually there. 

[sporco-filth]

i started writing this story a very long time ago. it's probably only the second or third slob story I'd written at the time and i was still getting comfortable writing about kink stuff (because it feels so self indulgent to do so and embarrassing even if you're the only one reading it).

Still, it's decent enough and I just kept adding to it over the years so it's a pretty big work of writing (over 16000 words apparently which i just checked and am surprised about enough that i had to triple check it). Since it's so long I'm splitting it into pieces.

Synopsis: Lee is a neat freak and moves in with a slob called Bob. Lee realises he has a slob fetish and slowly but surely gives in to his desires.

Bob looked into his fridge and scratched his belly. He pulled out a large piece of cake and shut the door. He sat down on the couch, moving aside some empty takeaway containers from who knows when, and opened a bottle of coke. Cake and soft drink: the perfect breakfast. Flicking boredly through the TV, he thought how six months ago he'd never have been able to enjoy this. Back then he was dating Velma, a health nut and a clean freak. She was nice and all but he couldn't stand her nagging. Bob preferred to laze on the couch all day rather than tire himself out walking; his five main food groups were fatty, sugary, salty, carbs and meat; he didn't care about living in a pigsty and his prowess in belching, to him, was a symbol of masculinity. Velma had tried to whip him into shape, and for a while he was pretty close to giving in. But after a weekend with the boys he remembered all the best things about his old, bachelor ways and decided the relationship had to end.

Now, Bob can eat junk food till he's stuffed, burp long and loud, leave his dirty undies on the floor and never needs to wash again; the closest he'll ever get to sport is watching it on TV. Bob, finishing the last of his cake, let out a loud belch. He patted his prominent gut, the product of years of avoiding physical activity and following a strict diet of takeout, beer and never skipping dessert. He was very proud of it.

Suddenly, he heard a knock at the door and, rather reluctantly, got up to check. Standing there was a thin, fairly athletic guy holding a newspaper clipping. "Are you Mr Gutt?" He asked, reading off the paper. "I'm here to see about renting the apartment." "Yeh, that's me," Bob replied. "Come on in. What's your name?" "I'm Lee," he said. It was then that he looked up and saw the man in front of him in all his slobbishness. He was visibly surprised but made no comment. "So, uh, why are you renting out this place?" He asked, avoiding the elephant in the room. "My girlfriend moved out a while back. I haven't been able to find anyone since though." Lee thought he could tell why, but didn't say anything as he took it all in: the piles of unwashed dishes stacked high in the sink, the dirty laundry thrown about everywhere, the junk food wrappers strewn about, the overflowing trash cans, the bathroom that seemed like it hadn't been cleaned in years. It was a complete and utter pigsty.

Lee was oddly titillated by all this: the total abandon and laissez faire attitude, the heady stench of sweat and filth, the naughtiness of such indulgence. He knew he shouldn't agree, but he so wanted to, and there hadn't been any place with as cheap a rent in so good an area… He let his desires control him and soon found himself signing the deal. "I'll be moving in as soon as I can," he said. "I can't wait!" Bob was a little surprised someone so clean and thin would want to live in a place like this, he was a little concerned he might end up with a repeat of Velma, but he wasn't going to refuse an applicant willing to pay.

The next week, Lee had moved into the spare room. Still in his usual habits, he had a perfectly made bed, freshly pressed clothes hung neatly and was still following his regular diet and exercise plan. Bob was a little perturbed, but the cleanliness hadn't infected the rest of the house so he let it slide. Lee longed to join Bob in his slobdom, however, but couldn't muster the audacity to let himself go like his roommate.

Lee would get up early for his morning jog. Entering the living room, he'd see Bob asleep on the couch, TV still on from his late-night binge-watching, lap full of crumbs from his midnight snack, and Lee would envy that freedom Bob had to do as he pleased. Preparing breakfast, he'd see all of Bob's sugary biscuits as he got his muesli from the pantry, would see all his chocolates and chips as he looked for his fruit, and all the soft drinks and beer when he took his water bottle out of the fridge. His stomach growled, hungry for those delicious, calorific foods, but he refused that desire. Taking a shower, he'd notice the dirty socks and underwear that were scattered around the bathroom and the unflushed toilet. He longed to be able to live in that state of filth, to never have to bathe again and just revel in his own stench, but he couldn't…

Lee's runs gave him a chance to clear his mind of his desires; he couldn't live like that, he just couldn't. It wasn't his life. His life was clean, fit, healthy, hygienic, polite, neat, tidy, thin, fresh, pure…

But try as he might, the thought of what his life might be like if he gave into his desires plagued him throughout the day. During a dull moment in the office, his mind wandered from thought to thought. Soon he found himself daydreaming: there he was, lazing on the sofa, wearing nothing but a pair of old tighty whities, mouth full of greasy pizza, watching TV late at night. In his imagination, he grabbed a bottle of beer, took a swig, and belched. He patted his gut proudly… Wait, gut? Yes, in this fantasy, Lee had a beer belly that would rival Bob's: the product of an indulgent, couch potato lifestyle. Lee drifted back to reality and noticed how excited that fantasising had left him. Who'd have thought he could be so turned on by something so… dirty. Lee shook his head, it was just a silly fetish, nothing more. He put it out of mind for the rest of the day.

When he returned home, he saw Bob scrounging around the kitchen, looking for something to eat. He was always eating, whatever he wanted, whenever he felt like it. "How was work?" He asked, trying to decide between chocolate and doughnuts. "Alright," said Lee, watching as Bob ended up choosing both. "The usual." "Did you want anything?" Bob asked, proffering him the box of doughnuts. "Oh, wait sorry. I keep forgetting you don't eat this sort of food." Lee smiled. "That's ok, it's not like I'm offended or anything." Bob plopped himself down on the couch and put his feet up on the coffee table, pushing aside a haphazard pile of trash in the process. "You remind me a lot of my ex: she was a obsessed with being healthy too. I can't understand people like you." Lee frowned. "What do you mean?" "I mean, why spend your life in misery when you can enjoy it and not worry about stupid things like making the bed or eating healthy. I tell you, you guys are obsessive." "I am not obsessive," protested Lee. "Sure you're not." "I'm not." "Prove it." Lee wasn't one to back down from a challenge. "Fine, what would you have me do?" Bob thought for a bit, he hadn't expected his challenge to be accepted. "It needs to be something kinda big, but nothing huge…" He had it. "I want you to sit down on the recliner, eat one of the donuts, drink a can of soda and you can't move or fidget until this episode finishes. And if you burp or anything, you need to let it loose and not say 'excuse me' or anything." "That's hardly fair!" "It's nothing, unless you really are obsessed with health and all that trash." "Fine, I'll do it." Lee sat down on the recliner, and picked up a doughnut from the box. He pulled the chair back and got into a comfortable position. Though he'd never let Bob know, he enjoyed the feeling of the soft, worn cushion on his bum. He could even feel the crumbs left by Bob from countless nights of snacking in that chair. He looked at the doughnut, the dim light (one of Bob's undies had inexplicably ended up on the hanging light) reflected off the sugary glaze. It looked so tempting, so sweet, so… unhealthy. He took a bite. It was heavenly. He savoured the sweet taste as he slowly chewed and swallowed. Then he ate more and more until the doughnut was all gone. He imagined it sitting in his stomach, all the sugary, fatty goodness. Then he took a swig of his soft drink. The bubbles tickled his throat and the sugary taste tingled his taste buds. After another few sips, he felt a burp coming. As per Bob's rules, he opened his mouth and let out a sizeable belch. Nothing amazing, but still fairly impressive for someone who'd pretty much never burped before. "Not bad, Lee," Bob said with a smile. "If I trained you, you could become a real pro. Listen to this." Bob took a gulp of beer and released a huge, manly belch. Lee felt his face flush, but rather than focusing on Bob's burp, Lee thought about what he had just said: "If I trained you…" Lee imagined that: instead of running marathons, he'd marathon TV shows; instead of dieting, he'd be overindulging; instead of doing sit ups, he'd be sitting down; instead of burpees, he'd practise burping. It was almost more than he could dream of.

The two passed the remainder of the show in silence except for the odd burp here and there. Lee regretted eating his doughnut so quickly and he soon felt like another. The more rational part of his mind told him that this was just a fun game: once it was over he'd get back to his normal life. The other part of him so wished that this 'game' would never end. Eventually, of course, it did end, and Lee hopped up off the chair, trying to shake off any thoughts of continuing. "That was ok," he said to Bob, feigning disinterest. "But I prefer exercise over sitting around all day." "Suit yourself," said Bob. "But at least I've proved I'm not obsessive." "If you say so."

The next morning, as Lee was about to make his bed, he thought 'why?' Why bother making his bed when it'll just need to be messed up again? Who was he trying to impress? Did it really matter if he did it or not? If it didn't, then why not just leave it unmade? So Lee left his bed in a mess and continued his day as normal, the bed completely leaving his thoughts. When he went to bed that night, however, slipping into the unmade sheets, he felt an odd sense of freedom. As if he was rebelling against the rules, as if he was being a bit naughty not making his bed. Waking up, Lee didn't give a second thought to his bed as he got ready and soon leaving his bed unmade almost became a morning ritual.

About a week after his little challenge with Bob, Lee was walking home from work when he noticed a bakery that, in the past, he had always paid no heed. What caught his eye was a collection of glistening doughnuts in the window. Just the sight of them made him think back to that one he ate during the challenge and his stomach growled. It was going to be a little while to dinner, he thought, and surely it wouldn't hurt if he just ate one. Lee went in and bought a doughnut, glazed and sticky. As he walked he took a bite and was reminded again of the heavenly rush of sugar. He almost moaned in delight. He finished the doughnut before he got home and threw the wrapper in a rubbish bin, wiping his mouth clean so Bob wouldn't find out he'd been letting his diet slip a little. Letting it slip was a bit of an exaggeration, he thought. One doughnut was a treat, that's all.

Lee managed to hold back his desire the next time he passed the bakery, trying to keep his mind resolute against his hunger. He wasn't going to slide down the slippery slope of unfitness. But just the thought of that, of being unfit and fat and lazy, left him kind of excited. He knew, however, that it was just a fantasy; he could never live like that.

[panthera-tigris-venenata]

So I did write today. And you could get context but that would require effort on my part.

So lets just say the Isle kids decided to recreate Chaos Games in Auradon and roped good few hero kids to join. (Part one’s out there somewhere and yes I plan on finishing this damn thing.)

Audrey has yet to set out, but she has much shorter walk, nevermind the advantage of home territory.

Though she also has two very impatient Li siblings with a phone on the speaker, yelling into it in Chinese and communicating last-minute details with their parents – they agreed to lend them an unit of the Great Chinese Army, for a practical exercise.

Yes, that’s how they’re calling it.

Anything but „Crazy Death-Magic Game,“ which was Audrey’s preferred title. Or „Chaos Games,“ as they’ve apparently been dubbed by the Isle kids a long time ago.

She supposes she should call Arabella, see if the Atlantica princess is still on, too; she takes out her phone.

„What, princess, getting cold feet?“ asks Anthony Tremaine lazily from where he’s sprawled on the sofa, Ginny Gothel more or less laying in his lap. „You really should.“

„Don’t talk nonsense,“ she scoffs at him, „And if you’re only here to kick my morale under, doors are over there.“ She flicks her hand in the correct direction, ready to finally call Arabella.

„Why, sweetheart, me? Undermining your morale? I’d never!“

Ginny laughs, which has absolutely nothing to do with his statement, Audrey is sure. She glares at both of them, to absolutely no effect. One of the more unfortunate side effects of Isle upbringing, or maybe just coexisting with their unspoken girlfriend.

„You absolutely would, Tremaine,“ she answers, „And for no reason whatsoever, I’m sure. And why are you here, anyway?“

Anthony runs his hand across Ginny’s scalp – Ginny has stopped paying attention to the conversation again – and says: „You wound me, Audrey Rose, you wound me. I’m here as your advisor, and you’re so gonna need one if you want to stand a chance at this thing.“

„I do not!“ Well, now Audrey is offended.

Li siblings have hung up the phone and are now speaking to each other, still agitated. Very unconcerning thing, just as the next sentence from Anthony’s mouth.

„Oh believe me, you do. Harriet could probably take you all herself, if she wanted.“

Audrey freezes for a bit; she so didn’t sign up for this, thank you for asking. Finally, she shakes off her shock: „…Yeah,“ she says as she gestures at his expression with her pointer finger, drawing a circle in the air, „You really have to take off the heart eyes when you say stuff like that. Both of you,“ she adds with a quick glance at Ginny.

Ignoring their wide smiles, she turns around and dials Arabella. The phone rings for about a minute before announcing that the called is unreachable. What a bitch. Audrey glares at her phone for the offense and then turns around again.

„And what are you doing there, Gothel?“ she asks for lack of better things to do.

„Hmm?“

„I said, why are you here?“

„Oh,“ dismisses Ginny, „I’m a neutral party. I can do what I wanna.“ Anthony bends down to kiss her temple. Probably just because he can – Audrey looks away quickly.

„And why are you here?“ she questions again.

„I’m a medic. You’re gonna need me, sooner or later,“ Ginny says easily, as if that explained anything; she props herself up to kiss Anthony properly.

And why, yes, Audrey is starting to regret this whole thing greatly.

She shakes her head at the couple and joins Lonnie and Junior instead: They’ve got a war to plan. And maybe Arabella will finally call her back.

[lee-lucius]

Tickletober Day 11: Squeal

Summary: Mash asks for help working out, but Dot can't seem to take it seriously.

Word Count: 994

"Why do you need my help anyway? Can't you lift way more than this?" Dot asked, settling onto Mash's back as he began doing pushups. 

After all of the inhuman feats he'd seen from Mash, Dot's one hundred and sixty pounds, if he was being generous, didn't seem like much in comparison. 

"This is still good for endurance training," Mash answered, not breaking a sweat despite the steady speed of his exercise.

"I guess," he shrugged, propping his arms above his head and laying down on Mash. If his strength was anything to go by, they'd probably be here for a while before Mash got tired. Not that he was complaining; he enjoyed any time he got to spend with his friend.

Okay, maybe he was complaining just a little bit. But they'd been out here forever! And Mash wasn't even showing any signs of fatigue yet, how much longer was this supposed to go on?

There wasn't even anything to do, except for bang his head against Mash's rock hard back and hope he'd hit it hard enough to pass out, because at least then he'd finally be done with it.

"This is totally boring."

Mash stilled his movements, "Do you want to go?"

"Depends. You done working out yet?"

"No."

Damn it! Curse him for being such a good friend.

Dot sighed, "Then no."

"Okay," Mash said, resuming his workout. "After this, we can go eat cream puffs together."

Dot had a feeling Mash would be eating cream puffs with or without him, but at least he'd get something after this torture  

In an attempt to alleviate his boredom, he began tapping his hands against Mash's back, drumming along to the beat of his workout. That quickly got tiring though, and he shifted on his side with another sigh, propping his head up with the palm of his hand, his other hand beginning to trace random shapes on Mash's back.

There was an odd sound, a weirdly high-pitched choking noise, oddly like a squeal, that made Dot spring up, patting Mash's back. "You okay?"

"Yeah, sorry. That just tickled.

"Did it?" He asked, a smirk growing across his face. Now this was a surefire way to entertain himself. 

Mash only nodded, oblivious, and returned to his workout. The unsuspecting fool.

Dot waited as long as he could, whistling to himself and trying to contain his mischievous glee so Mash wouldn't see it coming. 

Then, he began. Perched cross-legged on Mash's lower back, he decided to start easy. Slowly, he took a single finger, dragging it down Mash's spine, making him sputter once more, but he continued with his exercise. 

Dot bit back a laugh, continuing his gentle motion as repeatedly drew his nail up and down Mash's spine. He didn't even know someone could be ticklish beneath all these muscles, but it proved surprisingly effective. 

"Dohohot," Mash giggled, "you're tihickling me again."

"Really?" His smirk grew, "This'll be good for you. It can help either endurance, right?"

"I dohon't see how thihihis helps."

"Come on, don't be like that," Dot did laugh that time, scribbling his hands across the back of Mash's neck.

Dot laughed again at Mash's squeak before he burst into rapid giggles, surprisingly high-pitched for him. Despite the ticklish sensations, Mash took his training seriously and remained undeterred. Boring.

"I'll stop when you stop training," he announced, hoping to speed up the end of this. 

"Now… where else are you ticklish?" Dot asked, lightly raking his hands along his back, searching for anywhere that elicited a reaction.

Scratching at his shoulder blades made his giggles louder and his arms ever-so-lightly trembled, becoming a minuscule slower in their repetitions.

It wasn't enough to make Mash give up, but when Dot poked his back in a certain spot, in between his shoulder blades and at the back of his ribs, it produced the same surprising noise from earlier as an uncharacteristic squeal came from him. His arms, trembling, gave out as Dot poked the same spot again, sending them both crashing to the ground.

If it were anyone else, Dot would be worried he'd crushed someone after falling on them like that, but Mash wasn't exactly normal, so he didn't let it phase him.

Instead, he monopolized on this momentary weakness, using one hand to wiggle against that spot while the other dug into Mash's side. "Done yet?"

Mash resisted the urge to turn onto his back, both from fear of hurting Dot and of exposing more of his tickle spots. 

Dot stopped, rolling off of Mash and into the grass next to him, pumping his fist in the air as he cheered, "Yes!"

His laughter grew louder as he begrudgingly nodded, giving into Dot demands with a loud "Yehehes."

He'd have to come back to finish his workout later, but a cream puff break never hurt, and he didn't think he could accomplish much more when he was getting tickled like this. He'd always been too sensitive to that kinda stuff.

After Dot finished gloating and Mash caught his breath, they helped each other off and headed back towards the kitchen at Mash's request.

"I didn't know you were ticklish."

"I didn't know you'd hate training that much."

"Hey, who said anything about hating it?" He shook his head, knocking his shoulder into Mash's impossibly muscular one. "Just gets boring and seems stupid when a rock could do the same job."

He paused, mid-step, realizing Mash had never answered his earlier question. "Why did you want my help?"

Mash was a stoic guy, but there was something about his expression that suddenly seemed a bit shy. "I like spending time with you.

Dot blinked, a faint flush rising go his cheeks as he looked away from Mash. "Yeah? Well, I could always help you again."

Somehow, despite the missing laugh and smile from when Dot was tickling him, Mash seemed to look like the happiest he had in years.

"Let's get cream puffs first."

[lipshits-continuous]

I know your degree isn’t all maths, but do you have any tips/tools for studying maths at uni?

Hello, sorry this is a few days late, I wanted to give you a proper answer /lh

These are in no particular order of importance:

If you are having trouble with a particular concept or area, talk to someone. A fellow student, the lecturer, your academic advisor, your tutor (if you uni has stuff like tutorials), are even someone from mathblr. In one-to-one conversations, it's often easier to to ask specific questions and for the person helping you to try to frame things in a way you understand

The flip side of this is try helping other people that are stuck. Explaining things to other people helps make sure you understand them. There have been occasions where a certain proof or concept has clicked for a second time when I've explained it to someone else

Practice problems and exercises are invaluable. Not only are they great for building understanding and strengthening memory (as well as developing general mathematical rigour), they're also a pretty effecient way of identifying things you don't understand as well for you to work on. I think I've talked about this before but my revision strategy is to do problems to identify what I'm weak on, and then go over the notes of the weak points and do problems on that specific area until I'm comfortable answering questions in that area again, then repeat.

Remember to take breaks! When you're trying to tackle a particularly hard problem and you're getting nowhere, take a break and focus on something else (probably not other problems). Sometimes inspiration will hit whilst you're not actively thinking about the problem (this has happened to me many times, especially whilst I'm showering haha). Or when you then go to return to the problem, you'll get back into it and realise that the answer was actually no that hard after all, you were just fatigued by spending so long on it. Obviously this won't always be the case, there will be problems that you will need to ask for help on and that's okay too. Learning is about admitting you don't know things

Remember to have fun. University can get really intense and draining and it is good to find some balance outside of that. You might not always find that balance during term time (I'm still working on it myself but my terms are short(ish) but very dense with no reading week so it's quite intense) but even little things like setting aside an hour or two just to listen to music or play a video game can help.

Sort of related to the last point but also read about maths outside of the modules you are taking, especially if they are starting to feel like a slog. Try to find things that remind yourself why you enjoy maths and why you wanted to study it. Sometimes that won't work and it might be a sign you aren't enjoying your degree as much as you thought you would (this happened to me with physics and is part of the reason I switched to doing more maths). Something that I like to do is look at module options for later years in my degree and see what things look exciting.

Get used to self-study because it's a really helpful skill. If you're lecturer didn't explain something well or you missed a lecture because of illness or whatever, you're gonna have to catch up and the lecture notes/textbook are the first port of call (as well as a friend who did attend the lecture, but they might be busy). But developing the skill before you have to do revision for exams is quite handy and independent learning skills come in very useful when you go on later to do research projects. This also includes being able to find other resources that help you understand things, like other textbooks or YouTube videos and finding out what works before for you.

A small sidenote for studying in the UK, especially if you're starting in September/October is to expect lecturer strikes. As it currently stands, it doesn't look like universities are budging so be prepared for disruption. I can't really speak for how this affects specific universities other than my own so I don't want to make general claims.

All that said, these are what I've personally found useful so some people might disagree with me or have other things they'd also suggest (if that's the case please add onto this post).

If you're starting after summer then I sincerely hope your A Level results are what you hope for and that you get into your first choice!

[sophieinwonderland]

You have previously said your host used to live under a rock. Well, realistically speaking, only Patrick can do that, so... What did your host do when he was "living under a rock"? (no need to answer if it's private)

Ghost:

Soph was probably talking about my childhood.

I was never a social child. I only went to public school up to, I think, 1st grade.

Now, this was in the deep South where schools are allowed to paddle children and regularly exercise their right to do so. But in theory, parents can sign notes to prevent that. Which my mom did when I was in kindergarten.

Then later that year, I got spanked by the PE teacher for not following instructions. My mom chewed the school out, and they tried to justify it by saying PE was basically its own little school. Something which sounded like bullshit when I heard it as a 6-year-old, and sounds even more like bullshit now that I'm an adult.

Then later that same year, the principal spanked me for allegedly stripping down to my underwear. Something which did not happen. What did happen was that I had a button-up shirt, was a bored six-year-old, and started unbuttoning and rebuttoning it because I was bored. That was it.

I'm pretty sure the bitch just made up an excuse to beat a child because she was pissed at being told she couldn't.

Then they tried holding me back a grade due to behavioral issues. Basically, for being autistic. And probably, I think, because the principal held a grudge about being chewed out multiple times for beating a child who she wasn't allowed to beat.

1st grade, I was moved to a different school, but had no friends and didn't get along with other kids. And mostly wanted to be left alone.

I was never actually going to stab my classmates in the eyes with a pencil if they didn't give me space. That would be wrong and I wasn't the type to hurt other people. But having grown, I can't blame the school for treating my threats as serious.

It was decided that school wasn't a good fit for me after that.

I did go back to school for about half a year in middle school but didn't connect with anyone there, and was taken out again.

That's what she means about me living under a rock.

I lived most of my youth homeschooled. I didn't have many friends my own age. I didn't join clubs. I didn't go to parties. I missed out on a lot of the connection to my generation's culture.

So sometimes Soph gets sent references to memes and stuff that I would probably know if I had a normal childhood in a normal school setting. But I never had that. I don’t know what videos people in my generation were watching back then, or what music they were listening to, or what slang they used. I spent my youth an outsider in a self-imposed exile.

[bonefall]

HI ok u dont gotta post this i just wanted to give some info bc u mentioned wanting to do disability right and i just wanted to give info u might find useful. Leopardstar has diabetes and while idk if she gets murked or not before that goes into full force, but shed absolutely not be herself during that whole shebang.

The first signs would be increaded dirt place visits to go pee, and needing to drink a lot. Wouldn't be too hard for cats to miss this since they live in riverclan, Clan Of Water, but it'd be an UNUSUAL amount. Personally, i noticed it myself and genuinely got concerned bc i was drinking triple what i normally did and would wake up in the middle of the night specifically to chug water.

Next thing would be her getting skinnier and out of breath more easily. Her body would effectively be eating her muscles away and shed 100% be unable to fight well or even at all at this point- accounting for exercise and a relatively low carb diet of fish, maybe these symptons would show up after a month and a half? At this point a medicine cat could notice the odd lack of energy but i doubt it'd be obvious what was happening, the medicine cat might pat her on the back, give her some herbs (honey or berries would be BADDD), and send her off.

Soon after shed start throwing up sugar, which just straight up burns ur throat like hell. Its hell. She'd also not feel too hungry now- in reality shes starving, and her body is too busy not dying to notice nor care. At this point if Mistyfoot did Her Thing, Leopardstar would barely be able to stand let alone fight her. In her final days shed be completely weakened and barely able to focus, and she'd start getting pains in her stomach and pelvis. I was unfortunate enough to cut it extremely close, and when i was diagnosed i was told i had less than half a week to live if i hadnt went to the hospital. Depending on if the medicine cat catches on, they could absolutely be making everything 50 times worse by feeding her berries or honey to soothe her burning throat, feeding a cycle of eating honey and throwing up the sugars in the honey. I did this with gingerale and it SUCKED.

Now!! If you want to have leopardstar put up a FIGHT and have her have diabetes and live with it, theres a few ideas. Firstly, only type 1 i believe can be treated without insulin. Secondly, Bloodclan could 100% steal human insulin and give it to Riverclan. The two are compatible i /think/. Three, idk the exact process but apparently you can make ur own insulin using the pancreas from animals, which she could use to survive. Four, without medicine, shed have to do a lot of exercise and manage her diet. With a raw fish diet it's much easier, but she'll probably not be too happy about not being able to eat tunnelbuns without feeling like crap and throwing it up after.

Going down the Bloodclan sourced medicine route, Misty could also kill her using the medicine. Insulin is a delicate balance- too little and you start throwing up and ur body eats u again. Too much and you have no energy to move and you can die within the next hour. Doesnt even take that much, a dose of 18 when youre supposed to take 16 can be deadly. Double that amount and i doubt even a medicine cat could save her even if she knew- low bloodsugars make someone irrational or emotional + extremely whoozy, and its HARD to force feed someone honey when theyre adamant that theyre perfectly fine and just a little sleepy, thats all. In her sleep, and Leopardstar would maybe wake up briefly, feel extremely tired and odd and unable to move, and fall asleep and die.

Anyways this has been ur probably too long rant about diabetes and leopardstar hopefully its helpful in some way o7

[ID: A student is taking notes]

You know, in my rewrite, Leopardstar is actually going to be killing Crookedstar. Not in a way where she would be caught-- I had been thinking it would be a generic poisoning. Maybe it would be dramatic and fascinating if Leopardstar had actually pulled this insulin trick... only to then recognize that Mistyfoot is trying to poison her in the same way.

I'm committed to Leopardstar dying in a battle with Mistyfoot. I had this awesome idea for the Sweet Nothings AU where a Villain Thornclaw lead Hollyleaf somewhere that the winner wouldn't be caught for their victory, so they could have a proper fight to the death.

What if I used that plotbunny here instead? Leopardstar realizing that Mistyfoot had brought her the wrong dose of insulin (I will work out how they get insulin when I make a herb guide for it), and deciding if either of them is going to die, they will die honorably. Not by trickery, but by the strength of their claws.

So she calls for Mistyfoot, tells the Clan they will be confronting rogues at the border, and then they march towards their final confrontation.

[hiraeth-witch-11]

Magnolia Jasmine Part 2

Part 2: His Very Own MJ

Warnings: canon typical stuff, nothing really

Word Count: 1300ish

In the days that followed the wasp men’s attack, the media has gone crazy over the appearance of a new vigilante. Not that you have any intention of returning back to the hero scene, no this had been a one off. No one else knew that, though. They all assumed you’d be back after your heroic debut. Names were being flung around as different outlets scrambled to be the one who coined your official name. Some of them were quite silly like ‘The Wasp Whisperer’ and ‘Mother Earth’. Others you could admit had a nice ring to them. ‘Briar’ was fun, even if it was a bit of an insult in some places. ‘Queen Bee’ was cute. ‘Meadow’ was one of your favorites. You diligently avoid anything comparing you to your mother’s alter ego. The media is clueless to your heritage, but it’s an obvious connection to draw between 2 plant controlling women.

Business booms as children request flowers to be put in their hair, couples are reminded that it’s been a while since they got their S/O a bouquet, and displays are made by businesses to take advantage of the flower hero and their 15 minutes of fame. You exercise caution with your powers over the next week or two, aware of the potential for scrutiny.

You are closing up one evening as the rain is finally starting to let up, when a boyishly handsome man with a mop of brown hair comes jogging up to your door, just as you are about to turn the sign. 

“Sorry, I know you’re ‘bout to close. Do you think I could grab a bouquet real quick before you close? I promised my aunt I would bring her some flowers for dinner tonight, but then I got caught up in the rain and I’m already running super late,” he pleads.

You smile as he rambles, it’s not like you have anything better to do with your evening. A few extra minutes don’t bother you.. “Sure, come on in.” You hold the door open for him and watch him track wet, dirty footprints through the front of the store.

I really need a better door mat, you think to yourself.

“Thank you, you’re a lifesaver. I’m Peter, by the way,” he says as he grabs a small bouquet from the shelf and takes it to the register.

“I’m Maggy,” you offer though it may be obvious with the sign out front. You ring him up, carefully wrapping up the flowers and putting a loose bag over the tops in case it starts raining again.

“Well, Maggy. It was great to meet you. I totally owe you one.” Peter sticks some change in your tip jar and makes his way back to the door, noticing the footprints he tracked in.

“Oh jeez, I am so sorry. Let me clean this up.”

“It’s okay, you’re late to dinner. Go, I don’t mind,” you say honestly.

“If I wasn’t running so late I would stay and clean it. I’m so sorry, my aunt raised me better than this. You sure you don’t mind?”

“I really don’t. Go, enjoy the flowers.” You smile reassuringly as he gives you an apologetic look, dashing out the door and down the street.

You grab the mop and laugh a little. You try not to hope that you’ll see him again. It was a big city, you could go the rest of your lives without your paths ever crossing again. But you know what they say: it might be a big city, but it’s a small world.

*********

A week or so passes before you see Peter again. It’s sometime in the afternoon and you’re doodling little flowers on receipt paper as you wait for another customer. It’s warm today, even in the shop and your red hair is pulled up off your neck with a claw clip. Your legs swing freely as you perch on the stool behind your counter. 

His hair is dry this time, though a bit messy, and in the sunlight, you can see how beautiful his chocolate brown eyes are. You can also see the gnarly shiner he has on his left eye. At the sight of him, you almost fall off your stool.

“Peter, what happened?” You blurt out in concern before you realize it would probably be more polite to ignore it.

“Oh, it’s fine, I just got mugged.” He says this all with a smile on his face, speeding past the whole ‘ and adding, “Anyways, I felt really bad about the other night and I wanted to come and apologize. I also feel like an idiot ‘cause I didn’t make the connection of your name and the shop.”

“It really is okay, Peter. I didn’t have anywhere else to be, I really didn’t mind. And yeah, Magnolia is a mouthful, it’s cool for a flower shop name, but I prefer Maggy or MJ.”

Peter looks at you with a mixture of surprise and awe. “MJ?”

“Yeah, my parents named me Magnolia Jasmine. You can’t even imagine how hard that is to get little kids to say. I went by MJ ‘til college.”

“Do you wanna get some coffee with me? I mean, obviously not now, I can see you’re busy, but some other time?” He’s all giddy energy, rocking back and forth on his heels, looking at you like you’re the moon and the stars. 

“I don’t even know you, Peter…?”

“Parker, Peter Parker. And isn’t that the point of a date, to get to know each other better?” He asks with a grin.

You aren’t necessarily opposed to it, you can’t deny the connection you feel, but you aren’t going to be stupid. Safe dating practices was something your dad has hammered into your brain since you were 13.

“Tell you what, I’ll think about it, and in the meantime,” you scribble your name and number on the receipt paper that is covered in various drawings of flowers, “here’s my number, Peter Parker.”

Peter takes the paper with a grin, glancing at it before pulling out his phone, an older model with an extremely cracked screen, and adding you to his contacts. Your phone vibrates in your back pocket and you check it in time to see a message from a new number that says ‘it’s peter parker :)’. 

“I gotta go to work, but I’ll text you later.” Peter ducks out the door. “Bye, MJ!”

*******

Peter hasn’t been able to get you off his mind since that first night when he tracked dirt through your store. You were absolutely beautiful with your red hair hanging loosely and your bright, hazel eyes. You had been wearing jeans and a gray t-shirt with some floral pun on it and he swore you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, dirt smudge on your cheek and all. He had made a note to visit you again as soon as he could.

Today, he had rushed to your store on his break. You’d been focused on your doodling when you looked up. He completely forgot that he was still healing a black eye, he should’ve waited another day. 

Peter had been completely flabbergasted when you said your name was MJ. Ever since he got back from his multiversal adventure, he’s been keeping an eye out for his very own MJ. It’s not like he had been searching for you actively, there are far too many MJs in the world for that to make sense. But the moment you told him, he just knew that you were the MJ meant to be in his life.

Before meeting his pseudo-brothers, Peter would have struggled to come to terms with any sort of new relationship. The most he was comfortable with was casual flings and friends held at arm’s length. But when he caught Peter 1’s MJ, it was like he could finally forgive himself for what happened with Gwen. He’s been doing better, been lighter, something May had commented on. Peter is ready to at least get to know you. He’ll do better this time around. He will keep the lives of Peter Parker and Spider-Man separate. He’ll make sure you don’t get hurt. He can keep you safe if it comes to it. He’s certain of it.

*******

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