#Also posture fixing exercises are the shit!

[lunasilvis]

Working on a health & fitness application really steered me into the desire to get more flexible 🤸‍♀️

[bibiwrld]

up and coming— actor!drew starkey x actress! black fem oc!

Synopsis: Drew Starkey and new actress Percie Terrance, are being interviewed for their new erotic- romance film, ‘Puppet’. Oc is 23.

Character Mood board/ themes: Puppet

Finally at the interview to wrap up their press tour for Luca Guadagnino’s ‘Puppet’, they were in the beautiful city of Rome, Italy.

Sitting down side by side on an expensive leather couch, they had a few more minutes before the interviewer was ready.

Drew glanced at Percie, her exterior was very poised and collected, but he knew she was nervous. She always got nervous before an interview. He remembered when they were in Japan and he did breathing exercises with her moments before their interview.

“Hey.”

That caught her attention. Her brown doe eyes found his ocean blue ones.

Giving a cheeky smile, she replied. “Hey.”

He patted her hands that were clasped in her lap. “You’re going to be fine, you’re made for this shit.”

A small laugh escaped her. “Thanks Drew.”

His lips curved upwards and eyes slightly creased at the sound of her laughter. “You’re welcome.”

The interviewer finally took a seat across from them. “You guys ready?”

Tearing their eyes away from each other. “Yes!”

Fixing their postures, they sat comfortably with a distance between them.

“3..2..1!”

“Hello everyone, we’re here with—”

“Percie Terrance.” Her smile was bright.

“And Drew Starkey.” He gave a small awkward wave.

“Not to give all the attention to Percie—” The interviewer started. “But I would love to know more about her.”

Drew crossed his legs with a smile. “No, no, go ahead, she’s really the star here.” His eyes were now on his co star.

She smiled uncontrollably at his words, giving him quick glances.

The interviewer chuckled at the pair. “So Percie, you’ve said in previous interviews, that this was your first role…ever?”

Nodding with a small voice, she answered. “It is. I’m so grateful for this opportunity, to work with THEE Luca Guadagnino and the talented Drew Starkey.” Her eyes now fell on the man beside her, who was already looking at her.

“What was your first reaction to getting the role?”

She let out a dry laugh, with a slanted smile. “I thought it was a joke, honestly. I didn’t have any experience on camera —just high school theatre experience and some acting classes. I auditioned just for the fun of it, I didn’t really..think that I’d get it.”

Somehow, Drew was a little closer to her than before, leaning over to her. “You have raw talent.” He whispered in her ear, his breath fanning against her skin.

She giggled at the feeling, touching her ear.

Drew looked down and smirked.

“Drew, what was your reaction to meeting Percie?”

Looking at her from his peripheral vision, he watched as she flipped her freshly silk pressed hair. “ I was stunned. At our first meeting, which was at the table read through, she called me by my first name, being all respectful and professional— but still very shy and nervous about the whole thing, so cute.” He laughed to himself.

Percie playfully pushed him by his shoulder. “ Don’t tell them that, Dreeeewwww!”

He didn’t budge at her weak attempt, only chuckling. “But I was so happy to teach her everything I knew, she’s a fast learner.”

The interview smirked at the bubbling chemistry between the two.

“Were there any challenges during filming?”

Drew turned his head to Percie, gesturing for her to answer.

“Thank you.” She muttered to him softly. “ I would say fully transforming into my character, Angelica. She’s a very independent, intelligent, sexy—”

“You’re literally describing yourself.” Drew cheesed.

Her eyes widened at his flirtatious comment, her cheeks feeling hot. “Drew.” She couldn’t help but smile. “As I was saying, Angelica is also this badass dominatrix. She’s so detailed oriented, confident, never lets shit get to her, there were times where it was hard to be her because of some of my insecurities.”

Drew’s lips slightly frowned at her last couple of words. “ I didn’t have much of a challenge during filming, anyone would be a submissive, pathetic mess for a woman like her.”

Was he trying to kill her on camera from all these flirty stares and comments?

Percie couldn’t believe her costar, shyly hiding her face.

“Oh wow.” The interviewer was caught off guard. “Well, the on screen chemistry sure is very much alive off screen. All of social media is dying to know, are you guys dating?”

Drew smiled with all his teeth, not giving an answer, only looking to Percie.

She fixed her hair. “Why’re you looking at me?”

He sighed, looking at the interviewer. “ Sad news for the fans, no, we are not dating.”

“We’re both really good friends.” Percie chimed in, eyeing the camera.

Drew scratched his head, trying not to show any signs of being hurt by those words. “Yeah.” He gave a small nod along with a tight lipped smile.

“Um, Percie, I heard that you know Italian. Could you say a little something to close off for us?”

“Of course!” She perked up. “Umm.. grazie per averci invitato. Tutti, per favore, andate a vedere Puppet in un cinema vicino a voi.” She put some hair behind her ear shyly, looking at the camera with a warm smile.

“Isn’t she just perfect at this stuff?” Drew cupped his cheeks, leaning towards her, his eyes staring admiringly at her.

🎀

Translation: Thank you for having us. Everyone please go watch Puppet at a cinema near you.

[shamebats]

"Tech neck" (and why posture devices are a scam). From the OP: "The closer you look at posture-related products & services on social media, the more sinister it gets. First, they pick a completely normal, harmless human behavior (looking down at your phone, slouching, sleeping on your stomach etc.) & try to make you feel guilty/lazy/ugly/unhealthy for doing it. Then they make up a fake problem by pointing out normal, common human anatomy (rounded shoulders, anterior pelvic tilt, cervical kyphosis etc.) & claiming it is the result of doing that normal behavior too much. Then they sell you an overpriced piece of shit that doesn't do anything (device, exercise program, buzzer, piece of plastic or foam to lay on etc.) to "fix" that normal anatomy. Then they instruct you to replace the normal behavior that caused the fake problem with a completely abnormal behavior (holding your phone up to your face when texting, keeping your back straight while tying your shoe, stacking pillows around you to maintain one position while you sleep etc.) to prevent the fake problem from coming back. Not only do these abnormal behaviors look freakish in public (humping a foam cylinder, chin tucks while driving, jamming a piece of plastic into your pelvic incredibly close to your junk etc.), they also usually feel much less comfortable than simply moving & positioning yourself naturally without conscious effort (normal, harmless behavior). And then of course if you fail to "fix" your barely modifiable, normal anatomical structure, they blame you for not using their overpriced piece of shit enough."

[pedge-stuff]

God I just thought about an idea for pedro and reader, reading your last post...

They are in a relationship and live together. The reader is also an actress. She asks pedro to practice her lines with her. In the play, she is having a really long line, breaking up with the person ans leaving them... pedro can't continue... at night in bed they are cuddling and pedro talks about how he hated the feeling or the thought of the reader ever leaving

(changed this slightly, hope that is OK...)

bad acting (pedro pascal x gn/m!reader)

a/n: same vague universe as “marked,“ per usual.

thanks, as always, for everything.

(also I did that thing where I didn't save this on drafts fast enough and the whole fucking thing deleted so you could say im LIVID sorry if this rewrite felt rushed.)

summary: things get a little... too real.

—————————————————————————

"You can't laugh."

"I'm not gonna laugh!"

Pedro hands you his iPad, script loaded on the screen. "I'm serious," you warn him, "you had to stop last time, the acting was so bad."

"Just read the sides, baby."

You know he isn't nervous about the audition— if he was, he sure as shit wouldn't be practicing with you. Those rehearsals are reserved for his coach, or someone who can actually talk him through the scene. This was just a formality, a quick read-through for some anthological TV show about people in failing marriages. Season 2 of Oscar's old Amazon thing. With the audition being on Zoom tomorrow, the whole process feels fairly relaxed.

"Should I read it in a lady voice? Will that set the scene?"

"Please don't."

"Scottish accent?"

"Babe."

"Hmm." You clear your throat loudly, for dramatic effect. Across the room, feet propped on the desk, Pedro rolls his eyes. He's got his cheaters on, but no script— the audition's supposed to be off-book. "From the first page?"

"You're stalling."

"Ugh. Ok. Here we go." Leaning forward, you scroll to the highlighted text on the iPad. "Stop, David. You don't know what you're talking about."

Pedro's posture straightens; ever the professional, it's like watching a switch flip. The humored lines beside his eyes, little crows feet that crinkle when he looks at you, disappear completely. His brow furrows, gaze darkens.

"Of course I do, dammit. I'm done with this, all of this. It's like living in a mausoleum, Emma. I'd rather. Do you remember what love even feels like? Because I look at you, and I just... don't, anymore."

"You don't mean that."

"I do! I'm so tired of this. Life with you is joyless. Every day, I come home from work and just sit in the goddamn driveway because I don't want to come in the house. It's hard to be in the same room as you. I can't bring her back, Emma, and I miss her and I'm sorry she's dead. But it isn't my fucking fault and I wish you'd stop pretending it was."

His voice cracks, just a little. You frown as he grabs the glass of water beside him, pausing to wait, but he motions for you to continue.

"That's cruel," you read, "and you know it. That's not fair."

"None of this is fair!" Pedro exclaims. "That's the whole point. It's not fair that our daughter is dead while the girl who was driving got to walk away clean. Life isn't fucking fair. But it's life. And you've sucked all the light out of mine. I can't stand you, anymore, I'm sorry. I just can't. It's not that we can't make it work, it's that I don't want to make it work. If I never see you again, it'll be too soon. Jesus christ, I hate every part of this."

"Are you done? Have you gotten it all off your chest?"

"Don't placate me! This isn't one of your stupid therapy sessions, Emma, you can't fix this with a breathing worksheet and a roleplaying exercise. Be fucking serious. Every day I wake up and I wish I'd never met you. At least then, she wouldn't be dead, because she'd never have existed. And maybe I'd known some goddamn peace."

The page ends there, and you glance up. Pedro has his head in his hands, eyes closed.

"That was good," you offer tentatively, searching for some kind of sign as to what his next move is. He's gracious about work stuff, but you're always a little afraid of mucking up his process.

When he looks up, his eyes are glossy. "Yeah," Pedro says, croakily, clearing his throat quietly before rising from the chair. He takes the iPad back, wordlessly, shuttering the case over the screen.

"Wanna do it again? You were spot-on, Pedge, but we can go over it again if you want to."

"No," he says quickly. "No, I'm good. I'm fine. It's on Zoom, it'll be easy. I'm fine."

Weird. Just a little. Before you can dwell on his sudden cageyness, he's up, headed for the door.

"I'm gonna walk the dogs. We can catch up on Bake-Off, when I get back?"

Pedro leaves before you can answer.

— — — 

No sooner have the leashes been hung back by the door, than Pedro is beside you on the couch, all hands and light touches. It's as if he can't bear to lost contact. You allow him to reposition you, reaching a hand around your waist as you reach for the remote.

"Good walk?"

He hums, tugging you against him. Settles, finally, once you're half-reclined, back against his chest, arm around your middle. You fiddle with the edge of his sleeve as the bakers fumble their way through the signature challenge.

It's not that the clinginess bothers you— he's like this sometimes, when he's just returned home, or you've arrived in LA, or met somewhere in the middle. Every separation leaves him want for touch. It's the one thing you can't give him, while you're apart.

But he's been home a couple weeks now, in between reshoots for a new project. Been home all day, in fact, in an orbit around you while you attempted to work from home. (A little too close, frankly, but you can't really complain.)

"You okay?" You whisper, as the timer runs down on the technical bake.

No answer. Just a tightened grip on your waist, and a firm kiss to the top of your head.

— — — 

It isn't until later, in bed and half-asleep, that you pinpoint the source of the tension.

You'd have thought he was already asleep, save for the soft carding of his fingers through the baby hairs at the nape of your neck. Deep, even breaths tickle your forehead; he's curled around you, arm draped over your back. Had positioned himself this way silently, looking a little silly brooding in his Muppet-patterned pj pants.

"We're never reading lines again," Pedro whispers into the darkness.

"Was the acting that bad?"

Your attempt for levity falls flat. He is quiet, long enough for you roll backwards slightly, to get a better look at his face. A deep-set frown has taken root.

"No, it..." He tugs you closer again, tucking your head beneath his chin. If he weren't so sad, you'd call uncle for claustrophobia; your nose is squished into his jugular. But you lay still, waiting for him to continue.

"It felt too real," Pedro concedes. He inhales sharply, and you can feel it against your own chest.

The kiss you press to the hollow of his throat, doesn't feel good enough. You wiggle, tilting your head to press one against his toothpaste-tasting lips. Whiskers tickle the corner of your mouth.

"Baby, I know you were... pretending." A thin line between placating him and treading on his professionalism. "If our pretend daughter died in a car crash, I know you wouldn't divorce me for being too sad."

"It's not funny." With a groan, he kisses you again, resting his forehead against yours. "I hated saying that stuff to you. Felt too real."

The bone-crushing spooning is making a little more sense, now.

"I love you, but you're a sap."

"Hmph."

You smile into the next kiss. "A very sweet sap, though."

[karkatbug]

🦀🕶️🫂

A tight, hot sensation works its way along Dave’s arms and sits at the pads of his fingers, which he taps restlessly against the cool, waxed wood table of their local coffee shop. He continues the motion despite his classmate’s evident irritation, hoping the contact would somehow encourage the feeling to pass through his fingers and onto the table via osmosis. It’s a familiar tension after enduring copious amounts of stress. Assignments, exams, working part-time. His social life, hobbies and habits. College had a knack for narrowing time and forcing life into a bottleneck. If you’re lucky enough to come out the other side alive, you’re left an exhausted shell of yourself, stiffly trying to relax your shoulders and convincing yourself that’s all you need and are totally fine now. Booking a back massage was pussy shit. No way in hell was he ever gonna let some man rub oil on him and get all touchy feely with his nude bod, no the fuck thanks.

Not to mention things were good. He’s quite literally in a better place. There was no reason to be rigid with stress now when he wasn’t going through anything like back then. Sadly logic did little to work out the knots in his shoulders. 

“Mind over matter my ass,” Dave mumbles to himself.

“What’s with you?” Karkat demands. “You’ve been fidgeting all fucking day. All week, actually! Usually I let your human quirks slide but at this point I’m starting to get worried.”

Dave winces at the other’s raised voice.

“I’m fine, dude,” he says quietly, hoping to lead Karkat by example. “Finish your thingy.”

“Our thingy,” Karkat corrects. Dave huffs and glances back down at his laptop screen. A word document is open, and Karkat’s cursor flashes where he stopped typing. “And I’m not writing another word until you tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong, man.” Dave forces himself back into his quiet facade—fixing his calm along with his posture. They work some more. He grits his teeth when a leg begins to bounce. God how he’d love to crawl out of his skin right now. Instead, he sits up straight, grabs the side of the table and twists one way, repeating the motion as he does the other. His back pops both times. He lets out a satisfied sigh. 

It’s still not enough. 

“That’s the third time you’ve done that,” Karkat notes. His eyes are fiery despite the lack of red. Dave is one of the few who know about his blood color. He knows they’ll kick in a few years from now, and yet sometimes Dave can feel the color on him. Or maybe he’s projecting. It is his favorite, after all. The color. Not the troll.

Karkat pushes the screen of his laptop down as he points an accusatory finger at the restless human sitting across from him. “You’ve also rubbed your neck twenty seven separate occasions in this past hour. You’ve kicked me in the shin twelve times trying to stretch those freakishly long appendages you call legs. I’ve heard your back pop more times than Egbert’s fucking “grandma” and I lived with them for an entire year!”

“Why did you put quotations around grandma?”

“My point is what the fuck is happening to you? Are you about to molt? You’re acting like your frail skin is about to rip open.”

“Your inexplicable obsession with me is duly noted, and flattered as I may be that you watch me like a hawk—sorry, a talonscreecher— you can park those observations back at the Target parking lot you were at just this morning along with that awful thing on your wrist that you bought from there.”

Karkat tugs his long sleeve over his wristwatch with a scowl and flips Dave off.

“I usually exercise,” Dave explains, figuring he was one more digression away from Karkat finally deciding to kick him back for all the times earlier, most of which were definitely intentional points of contact on his end. “And I haven’t been able to for almost two weeks now because of—” he gestures to his laptop, the cafe they’re in and the campus visible outside the window they’re sitting by. “Our muscles get stiff and shit if we don’t move. It’s kind of unbearable for me.”

“Well, go! Go run a lap and come back!”

“What did we say about asking people to fulfill your furry kinks? I know our recently established friendship is cool and all but I’m not moirailling with you, dude. Next thing I know you’re going to ask me to get on my knees and bark—” Dave sucks in his breath and clenches his teeth, fighting the instinct to yelp following the sharp pain in his shin.

“Fuck off, Strider! Suffer in that meatsack for all I care.”

“I jog at ass in the morning or in the middle of the night, there is no in between.”

“Those are our peak cram hours.”

“I know! That's why I haven't been able to go!” Dave exclaims. “I hate feeling watched while I workout.” That’s not incriminating to admit, right? Most people hate the gym for the very same reason. There’s no way Karkat’s tragic-past detector would go off.

“‘Cause of your Bro?”

Dammit.

“No,” Dave utters stubbornly while raising his knee for easier access to rub his throbbing leg. “Can’t a guy be a little self-conscious when asked to run around his school in tight jeans and a baggy hoodie at peak hours? Can’t a troll accept that nothing will fix me right now besides getting on my stomach, spreading my legs and praying some forklift certified fuck accidentally gets in a steamroller and runs me over?”

“Jesus, Dave. If it’s that bad… just let me sit on you!”

Dave’s mind is pulled in so many different directions that for once in his life, he’s at a loss for words. The imagery, one he’ll never admit to having, even if burnt at the stake, takes hold. It’s so vivid in his mind that he closes his laptop with an abrupt snap and shoves it into his backpack.

“I think we’re done here.”

“Humans do it all the time!” Karkat continues. “You lie on the couch and your friend sits on your back, right? John and Jade fucked with me like this all the time but they’d make me do it back. They said it feels good.”

“You have got to remember that those two are outliers when it comes to what is considered ‘normal’ by human standards.”

“Right, because you’re a sensible being and should be considered the standard life form for your race.”

“You’re not convincing me to let you sit on my back, dude.”

“Fine, but where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

“Home?” Dave shifts out of the booth and shoulders his backpack. 

“No the fuck you’re not! We’re not even halfway done with this paper!”

“I’ll bullshit something tonight.”

Karkat follows him, protesting the entire time. Dave tries and fails to shake him off. The sticky heat of the summer has yet to take hold of the city. Accustomed as he may be, Dave never looks forward to it, and the dread along with his current bodily aches makes him clench his teeth and curl his fists. He snapped at Karkat once, two years ago, in the summer. He was in a bad mood. Sweat-slicked hair framed his features. The humidity sat heavy in the air and made his clothes cling to the small of his back. He was tired, his brain had reached capacity after back-to-back lectures. The sun drained what little energy he had left, so when Karkat tried to lecture him about his romantic life, embarrassing him in front of their friends, he was genuinely mad. They weren’t close then, but were in each other’s circle. Dave had regretted it instantly. Karkat was a good dude. Sensitive in a way that made Dave cringe, sure, and outright obnoxious at times, but it was from a place of caring. He was fooled at first, with the way the other talked and typed. Karkat Vantas came off aggressive, loud and arrogant, but in actuality was all bark no bite (though his throbbing shin would argue otherwise). When he apologized, Karkat hugged him tight and everything seemed to magically get better after that. 

Dave’s pace slows to a stop once they round the corner, officially off campus and away from the crowds of students. 

“Sorry,” he blurts when the other stumbles to a stop to avoid crashing into him. “For getting all pissy.”

Karkat raises a brow and tilts his head to the side.

Dave uncurls his fists and tries to relax his shoulders. He doesn’t want to be uncool like back then, two years ago. Not to the troll he now knows well. Someone he genuinely likes despite pretending otherwise.

“It’s not anything you said or did.” Why was communicating so hard? And so fucking awkward? Why did he have to explain his feelings instead of relying on the people around him to telepathically understand what was going on in his head?

“Yeah, I know,” Karkat snorts. “You just need to book a fucking massage.”

“Phrasing,” Dave smirks.

“No, Dave. I know what I said.”

Dave flushes at the other’s nonchalance. He hates when Karkat has the drop on him. 

“I hear you can request a happy ending from some plac—mph.”

Dave gets him into a headlock with one arm, the other going over his mouth. There’s a familiarity to the action. “Be glad there’s no table to suplex you over,” Dave threatens. He releases Karkat the moment he detects the other open his mouth to bite him. Yet another familiar action. 

They tussle for a while longer until they’re giggling as they pull away. The distance between them lasts only a brief moment. On a whim, Dave reaches out and pulls Karkat back in, this time for an embrace. Karkat squeezes him tight. It knocks the air out of Dave in the best way possible. Karkat pops his back and nearly lifts him off his tippy toes. God he loved this fucker’s hugs.

“Did that help?” Karkat asks with a small smile, sharp teeth peeking shyly over his lips.

“I’m not sure,” Dave lies, chest tightening at the sight. Shit. “Can you do that again?”

Karkat embraces him with all he’s got. Shit, shit, shit. Dave fights back the groan. He’d never hear the end of it if he made a single sound in front of Karkat. But he can’t lie, this shit felt good. He wraps his arms around Karkat and hugs back. It becomes a competition. They embrace each other until Dave is certain one of them is going to pass out from lack of oxygen.

They release each other with dizzied laughs and crash back into each other, initiating another round. This time Dave reaches around Karkat’s waist, leading the other to lock his arms around Dave’s shoulders. Karkat squeezes the tension right out of those muscles. Dave strengthens his grip until that tight, hot sensation that had wormed its way along his arms and to the pads of his fingers dissipates completely. 

They stumble apart with dopey grins, wordlessly resuming their walk home with nothing to fill the air between them but the sound of passing cars and chirping birds. He should have known. All it took was Karkat hugging him tight. Everything always seemed to magically get better after that. 

[myhatisblue]

Part 9, it shorter this time!! At this point I'm just going for as long as my brain wants to keep it up.

It wasn’t that long into my recovery time that I started to fall into the old routine. I cut out the sense extension work for obvious reasons, and was putting time into exercising. Running was most of what I could do right now. My arms were definitely healing at a decent pace but it was still unnerving to see those black bands stuck to them.  Have to assume the magic part of their whole deal is what fucked me up more than anything. I’d fallen a few times while learning to climb the tree, and the damage from that recovered in a few hours. 

I wasn’t gonna push my luck too far, but those bands still didn’t move no matter how I tried to maneuver them… Maybe I could just cut off my arms and grow new ones. It’d get rid of them for sure. Though after losing an eye I’m not exactly in a rush to gambling limbs away… Plus if they were able to keep track of me here there’s no doubt they’d be on me the second I pulled anything. 

Makes me wonder why they’re on the arms, you’d figure the neck, or legs would be more effective. Guess if I try thinking like someone fucked up, both of those would cause longer lasting injuries, death or completely ruin functionality.  If you still want them working afterwards I guess the arms make a little more sense. It could also mean that there's more to be added, but for now this was judged as what was needed to handle me.�� Given the results it’s hard to argue…  

Still, just thinking about it feels so fucked up, like I’m not even human to them… Really hate that it ended up being those goddamn bands that saved me from completely losing it. Ugh… I guess it was best not to think about too much, I don’t exactly notice them on even with the damage, so it’s easy enough to bury and forget for the time being.

Harris and Twig ended up jumping out pretty early on.  Twig was easy to understand, they had information to process.  Harris on the other hand just said he had some classified things to attend to, and that Sneckdraw could handle making sure I didn’t ‘cause trouble’. He was right, but I just kinda expected them to stick around the whole time. It was a little more freedom and a load off my mind so I wasn’t going to object. 

After a while, running started getting far too repetitive, and my arms weren’t as bad as they used to be…So I got ambitious, I had time so I may as well expand my little base of operations. Makes more sense to do now, then when I was fighting for my life. 

My first go around was dedicated to getting flooring down.  The routine of working until I died, sleeping, and getting back to it started all over. Sneckdraw would occasionally stop by and watch, never actually saying anything.  Not from lack of effort on my part, but any prodding I did ended in single word responses or nothing at all. After a while of this I just gave up and accepted he’ll just be spectating from time to time. There was no breaking through that kinda wall.

After some consideration, it seemed like this place needed two more buildings. The first one was kinda like a warehouse. Something huge with two floors. Turns out multiple floors throw in a lot of expected problems.  The first time my supports were pretty much nothing but the outside walls, so the second floor collapsed on top me.. Hurt like hell but unlike my arms that shit fixed itself quick. The more painful part was that Sneckdraw was watching at the time. His posture seemed almost loose for just a few minutes, and it almost sounded like he was laughing. Another reason I wanted to die to add to my ever growing list. At least I got lucky that the cement under it also broke so the blood and hunks of meat were easy enough to send back to the rest of the flesh collective. 

It’s just shit you don’t think about, I guess thats why people study for fucking years to design buildings. I need more of a plan, so it was time to take a break after that fuck up. When I needed to get ideas out there had been only one really good route that worked. Sure it ended badly when it got a tad crazy looking. But the old reliable method of drawing with blood on the cement was still effective for small stuff like this. As I was about to start drawing, I heard a ripping sound from behind me. When I turned towards the sound Sneckdraw was holding out a pen and a piece of small paper he’d ripped out of a small black journal. 

“Use this, experiencing another outburst would be inconvenient.”

“Ah thanks… So you keep a journal still?”

“It is a necessity. The mind can lose even what it treasures most when placed against the unrelenting passage of time.”

“Makes sense… Are you going to say anything about what happened or are you intending on keeping up the silent treatment?”

“It is not time yet, there are too many unconfirmed factors.”

“Maybe I could-…”

“No.”

He left soon after that and I couldn’t help but sigh he’s still so goddamn awkward… It didn’t matter, I need to work out how I should handle these supports anyways. The mistake I had was trying to make it into one large room.  To pull this off I needed to both support the top floor and the roof… I could just make a bunch of pillars and call it a day, but if the goal is for me to be able to hear and observe what's going on the better route is probably to split it up into rooms. With maybe one bigger room.  I think an entrance area would be good too. After that I can line the edges of the building with different rooms. 

The size of the equipment Twig used was a solid enough starting point for what the offices would need. If I made sure there was plenty of room for that and more it’d probably serve most uses. I’d just fit in as many as I could, and make sure to keep the relative center clear. That’d be where I could put the huge room, I could even extend from the first to the second floor. I mean  if the worm I’d killed was the size of stuff that’d be dealing with in the future the extra vertical space makes sense.  I did throw a few pillars both for structure and my own listening reasons. It may not offer the same coverage that the full walls did but it would be enough.

The second floor stayed pretty simple, with just offices lining the remaining space and a balcony around the huge room since looking down might be useful given the size. I kinda forgot about it till the end and had to throw the stairway up to the second floor in the entrance area. 

That other building was easier, given I’d learnt a lot from the warehouse, and its use was simpler. Having a place for people to sleep so they aren’t bothering the hell out of me, or stealing my bed was the next problem I needed to solve. So I just made room for a large cafeteria, and crammed in as many rooms as I could for sleeping quarters. For the time being it was two floors of mostly just things needed for day to day life. It’d be easy enough to expand if the need ever came, but god I hope that never happened. That’s too many bodies wandering around, when the 3 of them that were here already kinda drove me nuts.  By the end of it all I think I spent more time filling that one with furniture than actually making the building itself. 

My little base camp was looking pretty good. Given I largely just used rectangles and squares to throw everything together I did a fair amount with the skills I had. Of course for my own sanity I made sure it was all a 15 minute walk away from my house beforehand. There was also a part of it all that was a tad unnerving, I’m sure I’d get used to it with time… but a small voice in my head said that this place was starting to almost seem how it used to be when Descry was around. It ate away at the sense of accomplishment, I knew it was dumb but the thought still sat like a stone in my gut.

Funnily enough, it had finally become my chance to watch sneckdraw. For some reason without me saying anything he’d gotten to moving all of twigs crap. It was interesting watching those massive machines deconstructed and floating past me.  Sneckdraw looking forward utterly unphased with his hands resting in his coat pockets. There was likely hundreds of pounds of weight there if not thousands… 

Jesus he’s a goddamn monster, I forget sometimes but there it is… Worse still my arms were pretty much fully healed. The peace and quiet was going to end after I slept… There’s no more excuses, I was going to be forced to face the walking infection that was Sneckdraw… 

I had one more final touch to add, and it was one that felt like it was more for everyone else's sanity… the sky had been as red as everything else here for so long. While night and day would be annoying to deal with in a lot of ways, adding some blue and clouds seemed easy enough. I had enough reference, I spent a long time just looking up trying to clear my head when things were rough.  It was risky but I wanted it to look like the outside world, and not the constantly moving and shifting that the clouds in this place used to do… I did kill the shit out of that worm after all, so why not try and push my luck by using something from the real world.

I closed my eye, the memories were easy enough to dive into. I can’t even start to count how many times I’d sat on a wooden crate at the back of the restaurant. Cig in mouth and just staring up thinking about getting the fuck out of there. I didn’t have any attachments left, I could just drop everything and disappear. A pretty lie that things would be so much goddamn better anywhere else.. It always ended there and then, no grand escape, just a doused cigarette and dive back into that endless repetition. 

When I opened my eye the sky was indeed there but it was largely just Ken leaning in taking up my vision. He didn’t even give me a chance to enjoy my work before he was going on again.

“Look at you, actually using real memories on this place.”

“I killed that primal nature thing, what’s left to be afraid of?

He started laughing, you’d think it was the funniest joke I’d ever made.

“What?  It’s dead, we both saw it.”

He just started laughing harder, and I just had the rub the bridge of my nose while I waited for him to finish fucking dying.

“Ahh haha… God… Really?  You can’t kill something’s true nature, at best you put it in time out for a while. It’ll be back, in one form or another.  That things gonna be clung to your back until you either accept it and feed into it, or die.  It wins out in the end regardless.”

“You couldn’t have said something before I fucked with the sky then?”

“Memories are all the same, they just work like a coat of paint you slap onto this mess to make yourself feel better. More substantial in terms of weight and structure, sure, but outside of here it’s still just meat. 

You not wanting to use outside memories here was just another way to make that separation problem you’ve got going on worse. So why would I stop you from doing something smart?”

“Ugh… Go away, Sneckdraw was just wandering around anyways...”

“Sure, sure… You enjoy dying tomorrow and for the rest of the immediate future. It’s gonna be a great show.”

“Huh… And here I thought you were only okay with suffering when you’re involved."

“Wrong, it’s okay when it’s not causing me trouble, then it's all a good time. Otherwise I might need to deal with the problem. Plus, there really is something satisfying in seeing you get exactly what you signed up for. Maybe afterwards you’ll figure out why they’re just a bunch of pieces of shit.”

“...?”

I can’t tell if he’s just fucking with me, or if he means what he says.  He got fucking pissed about the Harris and Twig stuff. Yet Sneckdraw murdering me is fine? Is he even consistent about all this or does it just change depending on his mood?  Again I’m trying to understand a person who gets his rocks off fucking with me… Not the brightest idea but it still stuck in my brain as strange.  He was already long gone by the time I decided to get up and go to sleep. There wasn’t a reason to push it off anymore. 

It was so nice to see my little house empty and back to normal. I practically crashed into the bed and just enjoyed the feeling. Even if it was meat deep down, it sure felt like a real bed when it was like this. I bet falling asleep was going to be a nightmare… How the hell will I ever do it when I know what comes tomorrow… It’s just such a goddamn pain… It’s already becoming hard to keep my eye open. It feels… Off. Was something… ugh it.. doesn’t.. matter.

Spinning… It’s all Spinning… Christ my brain felt like it was trying to leak out of my skull… I was up so high… Why is the ground real far away?  Why can I see tree bark leading towards the ground…

“Your ankles are currently shackled and chained. Blood will pool inside your head, I advise you to avoid that.”

Sneckdraw? Sounds like he was above me… Took me a bit but I finally managed to maneuver around enough to get a good look up.  He’d made a fucking mess of the tree without me knowing. There wasn’t just one magic circle engraved into the tree but 5. Each glowing a bright blue, the same blue also came off the chains wrapped around my legs. And among the branches Sneckdraw stood glaring down.

“Jesus Christ… Hey, hey, hey… Let’s calm down and talk-”

“Conversation is not needed. You can only control your own body, all other distractions have been frozen for the time being.”

“If you can just do that why the fuck am I hanging here?!”

“It is resource intensive.”

“Fuck off with that. What am I even supposed to do like this!?”

“Stoping the blood from pooling in your brain is likely the most imperative solution for the time being.”

“Oh right! I’ll just tell gravity to fuck off, or hey… here’s a better idea: let me the FUCKl down!”

“You will remain here until you are capable of controlling your flesh even under extreme circumstances. Given the nature of that power you carry, gravity should not pose a problem if you manually manage your internals.”

“How fucking long is that gonna be?!”

“That is a question only you can provide answers to. Goodbye.”

“Sneckdraw?  What the fuck do you mean good-”

He jumpped, landing gracefully on the ground and walking towards the throne in the center of the fucked up flower field and sitting down.  He was fucking serious…  He was just fucking watching. How was he so goddamn confident nothing's gonna go wrong? If I’m fucked up the land here should be acting up. He’s not gonna be able to stop it, neither is he gonna be able to make it up here if shit goes wrong. I’m alone, shit shit shit…

Okay, okay calm down… I just need to manually control my blood so it’s not fucking up my brain. I’d already had to relearn this, it should be easy… Right?

I was so fucked. It was a battle against both myself and gravity. I needed my brain working to get the blood cycling like it needed to, but the downward pull was dragging everything towards it. It felt so fucking heavy in a way that can be fully captured with words. Everytime I thought I had it going right a single slip up sent a shockwave of pain through both my mind and internals. It didn’t make sense why it hurt the way it wasn’t like normal pain… There was a strange vagueness to the location; it was both everywhere and not at the same time… Obviously those magic circles were doing more than just keeping me from just freeing myself using the flesh far far beneath me. They had to be amplifying the hits my brain took if I failed. Shit…shit shit….

“I admit I kinda just assumed he’d spend most of the time just beating you up. This is more creative than I expected from that old ghoul.”

I let go of the air I’d unintentionally been holding in. That was a voice I never thought I’d be so glad to hear.

“Ken! Thank god Kenneth! Help me out here.”

“Nah, the train of thought is pretty good. If you can’t even control your body fully, anything going forward ain’t gonna stick.”

“No… no no no… Don’t tell me you’re siding with him!  Don’t you fucking hate him?!”

“I do, more than you could ever imagine, but this is the hell you threw yourself into.  So figure it out, I’ll pop by again later.  Or when you’re on the brink of either physical, or mental death, whatever comes first.”

“SON OF A BITCH! DON’T JUST FUCKING LEAVE TOO! KEN, KENNETH!? YOU IMAGINARY FUCK! GET BACK HERE.”

He was gone…

There was only one way out, no matter how much screaming I did… When I imagined what this whole training thing would look like I assumed it would just be fighting all the time. Being broken all the time, but getting back up over and over… This is so quiet, and understated… All I can do is close my eye and lock in my senses. The days were going to be very, very fucking long going forward. 

[becomingthecrone]

re: "this is ableist"

I'm disabled. I've spent time in a wheelchair, and I've been on a cane more often than not for over a decade. Every time I try to do any kind of exercise, I wind up injuring something new because that's just how my body is. (I'm going in for surgery next month on my shoulder because I thought "If I use dumbbells, I can sit while still getting exercise!" and then my body went "NOPE!") I have gastro issues; I have taste and texture aversions.

I still wish I'd followed all this advice more diligently when I was younger, and I still try to follow as much of it as I can now that I'm not-younger. A few things have made it easier, so maybe these might help some of the folks struggling with the original advice:

Stretch. Every day, go through some basic stretches. (Every single one of my orthos and PTs have said this, too.) I know, I know, when you're young it often seems unnecessary, but I promise it makes a difference in the long run. Stretching is good for the days you can't exercise, and it makes the days you can a little bit easier. (Posture also matters in the long run. Not to channel my mother, but sitting straight would have fixed so many of my now chronic back/neck issues.)

Don't let society dictate what "proper" vegetables look like. OP said this, but I want to say it again. You don't have to have a salad if you hate leaves. You don't need to add cucumbers if you can't stand the texture. You can eat that shit raw, sauteed, deep fried (but maybe not too often? Although this did serve as a good gateway for me), however it works for you. I have trouble with a lot of cooked vegetables, but my partner and I figured out I'll devour a basic-ass veggie party tray if it's left in grazing range while I work. Hell, salsa can be a vegetable, depending on who's making it.

Do what you can, because some is always better than none, but admit when you're lying to yourself about it. On days I just can't, I accept it and give myself grace; on days I'm thinking "I can't", but I know it's really "I don't wanna", i usually feel a lot better after I Do The Thing because I was getting into a funk and Doing The Thing forced me out.

A lot of younger people have no idea what aging actually looks and feels like, and the reasons behind it. That ignorance is so dangerous. If you don’t want to “be old,” you aren’t talking about a number of years. I have patients in their late 80s who could still handily beat me in a race—one couple still runs marathons together, in their late 80s—and I lost someone who was in her early 60s to COPD last year. What you want is not youth, it is health.

If you want to still be able to enjoy doing things in your 60s and 70s and 80s and even 90s, what you want to do, right now, is quit smoking, get some activity on a regular basis (a couple of walks a week is WAY better for you than nothing; increasing from 1 hour a day of cardio to 1.5 will buy you very little), and eat some plants. That’s it. No magic to it. No secret weird tricks. Don’t poison yourself, move around so your body doesn’t forget how, and eat plants.

If you have trouble moving around now because of mobility limitations, bad news: you still need to move around, not because it’s immoral not to, but because that’s still the best advice we have. I highly recommend looking up the Sit and Be Fit series; it is freely available and has exercises that can be done in a chair, which are suitable for people with limited mobility or poor balance. POTS sufferers, I’m looking at you.

If you have trouble eating plants because of dietary issues (they cause gas, etc.) or just because they’re bitter (super taster with texture issues here!), bad news. You still want to find a way to get some plants into your body on a regular basis. I know. It sucks. The only way I can do it is restaurants—they can make salads taste like food. I can also tolerate some bagged salads. On bad weeks, the OCD with contamination focus gets so bad I just can’t. However, canned beans always seem “safe,” and they taste a bit like candy, so they’re a good fallback.

If you smoke and you have tried quitting a million times and you’re just not ready to, bad news. You still need to quit. Your body needs you to try and keep trying. Your brain needs it, too. Damaging small blood vessels racks up cumulative damage over time that your body can start trying to reverse as soon as you quit. I know it’s insanely, absurdly addictive. You still need to.

You cannot rules lawyer your way past your body’s basic needs. It needs food, sleep, activity, and the absence of poison. Those are both small things and big asks. You cannot sustain a routine based on punishment, so don’t punish your body. Find ways to include these things that are enjoyable and rewarding instead. Experiment. There is no reason not to experiment—you don’t have to know instantly what’s going to work for you and what won’t, you just need to be willing to try things and make changes when things aren’t working for you.

You will still age. Your body will stop making collagen and elastin. Tissues you can see and tissues you can’t see will both sag. Cushioning tissues under your skin will get thinner. You’ll bruise more easily. Skin will tear more easily. Accumulated sun damage will start to show more and more. Joints will begin to show arthritis. Tendons and ligaments will get weaker and get injured more easily, as will muscles. Bones will lose mass and get easier to break. You’ll get tired more easily.

But you know what makes the difference between being dead, or as good as, in your 60s vs your 90s? Activity, plants, and quitting smoking. And don’t do meth. Saw a 58-year-old guy this week who is going to have a heart attack if he doesn’t quit whatever stimulant he’s on. I pretended to believe it was just the cigarettes, and maybe it is, but meth and cocaine will kill you quicker. Stop poisoning yourself.

Baby steps; take it one step at a time; you don’t need to have everything figured out right now. But you do need to be working on figuring things out.

[soyboyrae]

drawabox lesson 1 part 2 down.. this proved to be anger inducing lmaoo, but i learned a lot!!

my homework... but wait!! theres more

i did one exercise on printer paper to really see how it is and omg its so much better.. so im gonna be doing that from now on. ill just use this comp notebook for my drawings and not my exercises, cuz holy shit is it annoying to do it in a notebook

i tried to have a calm headspace so i could rlly take my time with this (as aforementioned, i naturally rush a lot of things with my art) and i ended up cleaning the entirety of my desk and doing all my laundry and other chores so i didnt stress about anything else... as a person, i prioritize doing the hard work first ASAP and efficiently, which has proven to be extremely useful in a lot of areas in life, but oh no balance!! yeah i gotta fr learn to take my time.

i noticed myself rushing it and just not focusing the entire time during some parts of the exercises. i am obviously not going to be able to go from rushing everything to being a fucking snail by the clap of a hand but lordd i need to slow down. it helps SO much to just SLOW DOWN AND FOCUS and really think about what youre doing.

on that note, heres extra work i did because i was so dissatisfied with my results in the funnel exercise. i felt like i could do so much better and i wasnt actually putting my best foot forward and showing the peak of my abilities. the new one isnt perfect, but im more happy with it, and i need to realize that these things will come with time if i just focus and listen to what comfy is saying.. its hard to not want them immediately tho!! a more technical problem i had was drawing the tops and bottoms of the ellipses at more of a point. it looks less like a sphere, and i tried to fix that in my ellipse-caused rage that made me fill the entire back of that page with a bunch of ellipses. lol.

again, using my shoulder proves to be surprisingly easy, and i do it pretty subconsciously, but i know im using it cuz my shoulder is kinda sore rn

tips are ghosting with intent. its easy to not really focus on it and do it mindlessly, but try to remember that its extremely important for your process. imagine hitting all those edges!! its very useful in the long run. do it now so you dont have to later, instead of vise versa. :) also drawing gloves help me glide my hand across the paper and/or table, and good posture helps with lines. for lines, i most comfortably go from top to bottom, but for ellipses i find it to have my arm at a like 60° angle about??? like kinda from the right i dont know how to describe it. but drawing my ellipses like i draw my lines ended up making me have the problem of the pointed ends.

sorry for the yap sesh. stay thuggin

[kiribaku-queen]

Sexercise [18+]

TW: rough sex, multiple partners, overstimulation, oral sex, penetration, spanking, choking, hair pulling, smacking (face), fingering, bruising

Word count: 6.8K

Summary: When you go to a new gym for special workouts but you aren't getting your needs met. Your trainer is here to help, offering special sessions to help get both of your sexual frustrations out.

A/N: Okay, shit writing BUT just think about the concept. I took the liberty of writing this piece because I couldn't get it out of my head!! This collab was really fun to do! Although stressful, I would love to do it again! Check out all the other writer's work for this collab! They are all so talented and just W O W

Inspired by the Korean Webtoon: Sexercise! It's actually really good and I was so obsessed with it. Here's my version but with Bakugou <3

Also, sorry if I tag the trigger warnings wrong >< I'm so new to this!

You stepped out of the freshly, hot shower, carefully drying every inch of your body before putting on the exercise clothes the gym had provided you.

You know. You didn’t bring your own clothes and the gym gave you some to wear? Well, this isn’t your typical gym.

It all started when you saw their promotion flyer hidden behind many others on the bulletin board on your way home. You’ve been meaning to get back to the gym and this one looked promising. A new form of exercise that’ll make you come back for more? Curiosity got the best of you and you headed to the gym to check it out.

Upon arriving, it looked like a regular gym. They had all the necessary equipment that you see in any gym. What’s so special about this gym? And what ‘new form’ of exercise were they talking about, you asked yourself.

“Hi, are you new here?” you hear a voice from behind you. You spun around to see a beautiful, fit woman greet you.

“Ah, yes I’m actually looking to sign up for that new form of exercise written on this flyer,” you explained, showing the lady the flyer you picked up. She grabbed it from you, shocked and disbelief written all over her face.

“Who the fuck did this?” she grumbled under her breath. But she did it right in front of you so you heard everything she said. She didn’t sound too happy, by the way her eyebrows crunched in rage. Her reaction made you back away, feeling uncomfortable. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to come to this gym after all. The lady noticed how you were shifting in your stance and cleared her throat, fixing her posture to look professional.

“Sorry if I scared you,” she laughed embarrassedly. “We just don’t promote this gym very much so it was a surprise to see this flyer. I’m guessing you’re not familiar with the workouts we do here?”

“Uhm, not really,” you say shyly. She looks you up and down and thinks for a moment. Then, she goes behind her desk and pulls out this thick contract.

“Well, before we get started, I’m going to need you to sign this nondisclosure agreement and fill out your personal information here. After all this is completed, I can take you around for a tour!” she exclaimed. You were a bit reluctant to even sign this and was about to walk out the door. What kind of gym is this that you need to sign an NDA? But it couldn’t hurt right?

When you signed the last line of that NDA form, she took you on your tour right away. And that’s when you found out the through about this gym.

“Ah, fuck~!”

“HNGH, hah!”

“Good, I wanna see 10 more reps.”

This gym helps their members enjoy working out through the pleasure of sex.

So here you were, stretching your muscles out in your assigned room for your first session. You felt that familiar feeling at the bottom of your stomach due to nervousness and excitement. You’ve always loved having sex. Having multiple partners? Eh, not so much. But you’ve been single for way too long and it’s been a while since you’ve had a good sex experience. Plus, you’ve been meaning to start exercising again so this was such a perfect gym for you. You’re just hoping that it’ll meet your expectations.

You heard two voices coming in your direction. A muscular man with dark green hair and similar clothes to what you were wearing and an angry, blondie with a trainer outfit on were entering the room, chatting away like they knew each other.

“(y/n)?” the blonde one spoke up.

“Ah, yes. That’s me,” you wiped your sweaty palms on your pants and reached out your hand to shake the trainer’s hand.

“Bakugou. I’ll be your trainer today,” he introduced himself. His palm in yours felt so heavy andstrong. He gripped your hand firmly, but only for a second and let go, his presence leaving you empty. Who knew that someone could have that kind of effect on you. You wanted so badly to take his large hands and have them roam all around your bod- You shook your head out of these naughty thoughts. What were you thinking? Sure, you were having sex but this was your workout, not some hookup. Plus, he’s your trainer. He’s not the one you were going to have sex with. It was that handsome hunk beside him.

“Introduce yourself,” Bakugou nudged the man. The green-haired man gave you a shy smile and a small wave.

“Midoriya Izuku. Most people call me Deku, but you can call me by what makes you most comfortable,” Deku says. You smile. His personality and demeanor reminded you of a puppy. But not a small puppy. He was more like a Great Dane: sweet but large in size. Looking at both of them now, they were both very muscular, almost towering over your small figure. You looked over at your trainer who was writing something down on his clipboard. Now he was very attractive. He’s got the face, the voice, the body. God, he was your type. Your partner was also good looking. No matter how much you wanted to have this session with someone else, your partner will do for now. With a build like that, you were sure you were going to enjoy this sex session.

“Alright, (y/n). Since this is your first time here, I’ll run over the basics. Before every session, each partner will give the other a massage to loosen up. If you could lay on the mat, please,” he instructs, pointing over to the mat that was laying on the floor.

You nodded in understand, laying on your stomach and resting your chin on your arms. Deku comes up behind you, sitting on top of the back of your legs. You jump in surprise, but Deku hushes you and gently pushes you back down.

“I’ll make you feel good, don’t worry,” he leans down to whisper in your ear.

Deku starts his massage by pressing both of his thumbs in the middle of your back, going up your spine. You almost let out a moan of pleasure from how good you felt. His large hands felt amazing on your back. Damn, forget about the sex. You’ll gladly be content with this. His hands skillfully rubbed your entire back, switching between a firm and soft pressure. You definitely felt relaxed and comfortable now. So this is why they start off every session with a massage. You were about to fully succumb to his touch, that is, until your trainer interrupted you.

“Okay, you can switch now. Sir, please lay on your stomach,” he instructed. Ah, right. You were still being talked through everything by Mr. Grumpy Pants here. Deku was used to this, so he laid down and you were the one to get on top now.

You started your massage off slow. Your touch was soft and gently, trying to touch every part of his body and get him to relax as much as possible. You tried copying a few of his moves, improvising here and there. So far, so good. You could feel Deku’s muscles loosen under you and he sighed in satisfaction.

“Alright, sir. Now I’m gonna have you lay on your back. Ma’am, go ahead and massage his chest,” Bakugou instructed. Swiftly and skillfully, Deku maneuvered his body around so that you were straddling his waist from the front.

“Oh!” you made a sound of surprise. You could have gotten up and let him take his time turning around, but he had his own plans. You could tell he’s done this many times before.

You were shy about giving him the massage at first. It’s not the first time you’ve touched a man’s chest, but it was your first time giving a massage with the man looking at you with such intense eyes. Deku’s hands were crossed behind his head, enjoying the show he was given. His eyes never left yours for a second, making sure he mapped every inch, every curve of your body and imprinted in his brain. You didn’t know where to look. While he was staring at with you eyes of lust, you were looking anywhere else but him; his chest, the floor, your hands. How could you concentrate when he’s looking at you like that?

You couldn’t help but shift in your position to get more comfortable, but in doing so, you sat right on his crotch. A bolt of electricity shot through your body when you felt his hard on growing larger with each passing second. It took you everything in your power not to moan right then and there. You didn’t want to look desperate so soon in the session. But Deku was making it so hard. Bakugou looked up from his clipboard to see a very obvious tent in the male’s pants.

“Hard already? It’s only the beginning of the massage,” Bakugou pointed out. Deku smirks and puts one hand on your thigh, caressing firmly.

“What can I say? She’s a beautiful girl,” Deku compliments. Bakugou doesn’t respond to his comment and instead, instructs him to do something else.

“Sir, please massage her breasts in this position,” Bakugou says. Without hesitation, Deku gropes your breasts with his massive hands. Every time he squeezed a bit too tightly, every time he readjusts his pose, it was all driving you mad. The heat between your thighs was telling you that you wanted, needed, to be touched. You bit your lips to stop another moan from coming out. Deku takes notice of your small action and decides, with a devilish smirk, to take matters into his own hands. He grabs a hold of your waist and juts his hips upwards so that his boner rubbed against your sopping, wet cunt. With so much force he put into that thrust, your body got pushed forward, allowing Deku to grab your breasts even more tightly. Finally, that long awaited moan escapes your lips.

“There we go,” Deku whispers, continuing his movements. You closed your eyes, enjoying the friction he was supplying you with. But before anything could get too heated, Bakugou, once again, interrupts.

“You probably already know what to do but I’ll explain just in case,” Bakugou starts, putting down his clipboard and goes to the draw that was sitting on the side. He brings out a bottle of oil and kneels behind you. “May I?” he asks while pointing to your top.

“Ah, yes,” you softly say. With his rough, calloused hands, he rakes his fingers up your side before removing your top. Your breasts spill out with a flop, making Deku’s eyes widen in thirst. Bakugou disregards his reaction, continues to put oil on his hands and starts to massage your breasts.

“Be careful when massaging women’s breasts. You don’t want to be too rough that it hurts or too soft that she can’t feel anything. The closer you get to the nipple, the more sensitive she is so be careful when touching them,” Bakugou explains. Like a pro, he starts to play around and twists your sensitive nipples. But just like in his explanation, he used different pressures in different areas to give you the ultimate pleasure. You moan in ecstasy, allowing yourself to submit to his touch. The back of your head landed on his shoulder and you just laid it there while he played with your breasts. Bakugou chuckled softly in your ear and gently pushed you up.

“Okay, give it a try,” he was addressing Deku. Deku nodded with excitement, eager to continue the session. Bakugou guides you to your partner, but his touch lingered on your back for a second too long. You looked back at your trainer and made eye contact with those fiery, crimson eyes. But your attention was stolen by the green-haired man under you. Deku had this talk to many times before that he goes right in to touch your soft, naked tits. It doesn’t take long for his tongue to find its way to your nipple. His wet tongue sliding against your sensitive buds excited you and only made you want more. You started griding your hips downwards to meet his upwards thrusts.

Very quickly, the chemistry between you two started getting more heated. Clothes were coming off one by one. Deku moves so that he is sitting up while you straddle. You cupped his face and brought him in for a kiss. As you guys were making out, you pull his shirt up to reveal part of his abs. At first, you just wanted to tease and feel his body but your horniess was off the charts and just touching caused you to want more of him.

For a moment, Izuku separates from you to take his shirt off and then his lips are right back on yours. Then he leans you back so you’re laying on your back and he’s leaning over you. He quickly disposes of his clothes and then rips your pants off. He sees that you’re already so wet and don’t need prepping. Neither does Deku apparently. When you looked down, he dick was so erect that precum was already leaking out.

Deku leans over you, panting slightly from your make out session, and lines his dick up with your entrance while pumping it a few times. Before he’s right about to stick it in, Bakugou slaps the back of his head. A now agitated Deku springs up, but before he could say anything, Bakugou just throws a condom at him.

“Slow down. Don’t forget that this is an exercise session. Now I want to see 50 reps,” Bakugou scolded.

“Fuckin hell,” he complains. He looks back at you and smirks. “Ready?” You nod eagerly wanting more than anything to just be fucked right now.

Deku slides his throbbing cock inside your long awaited pussy and you swear you could see stars. The stretch from his thick, veiny dick felt so amazing that your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Deku stayed still to let you adjust to his size. The feeling of being stuffed by a fat cock, and by a handsome guy at that, is already making your pussy clench tightly around him.

Deku lets out a sigh of pleasure and starts thrusting. The numbing feeling caused all his hairs to stand on end.

God, when he put his dick in, man did it feel good. But as soon as he started fucking you, you didn’t feel fully… satisfied. The initial stretch was the best feeling you’ve had yet. For some reason, the sex didn’t feel as good as you wanted it to be. Maybe you were too into your head? Maybe you just had to relax and just have a good time. But that was hard to do when your partner was whispering the countdown to himself.

There was no doubt that Izuku was enjoying his time with you, but he was so concentrated on the 50 reps that he wasn’t thinking about making you feel good. He thrusted inside you, not taking into consideration of where inside you he was hitting. Heat rushed to your cheeks in embarrassment. This wasn’t what you had in mind for your first session. You felt bad that you weren’t enjoying it, but you didn’t want to show it. With each snap of his hips, you forced out a moan to make it believe that you were having a good time. Every now and then, you’d let out a bigger, more convincing moan to change it up a bit.

This sucks. What’s the different between this and having sex with some stranger after a night out? They both can’t hit the right spot. He isn’t even going the speed you want him to. You wanted to be pounded into. You wanted him to fuck you so hard and so rough that you can’t walk the next morning. You wanted him to leave dark bruises all over your body but he wasn’t giving it to you.

You started getting bored midway through his reps and opened your eyes to look around the room. Maybe you could entertain yourself some other way while Deku was having his fun. You happened to look at your trainer who was looking at his own clipboard. He wasn’t even paying attention to you guys at all. He was writing down notes. What was he really writing though? Bakugou glanced away from his notes and made eye contact with you for a quick second. It was only for a second but it was enough to make you feel embarrassed that you got caught. You immediately closed your eyes to pretend that that small little eye contact didn’t happen.

“…48…49….50!” Izuku finally finished, giving you a nice, deep, hard thrust to finish it all off. That was good, but not enough. You eventually got fed up and flipped him over so that now you were on top. You were going to ride him until you were satisfied and full. But before you could lower yourself onto him, Deku holds your shoulders to stop you. He became a little flustered that you decided to take control because this wasn’t a part of the session. He looked at Bakugou for approval and he sighed, but eventually nodded his head.

“We can change it up,” Bakugou allowed. “But, (y/n). Now I want to see 50 reps from you.” He instructed.

“Yes sir,” you replied quickly. You just wanted him inside you, you didn’t have time for this chit-chat. So slowly but surely, you lowered yourself onto his dick, gasping the way he filled you up. You were able to fully sit, his dick disappearing completely inside you. The tip finally hit you where you wanted. Using your heels as leverage, you moved in the way you wanted. You made sure that pull all the way out before slamming into his dick again, loving the way he just fills you up. You loved how you were in control, shaking your ass up and down, hearing your sloppy cunt slap against his skin, how wet it must be down there.

God, but you wanted more. You guided Deku’s hands to grab your ass but all he does it grab onto it. Maybe a squeeze here and there. He was so entranced in the sex, his head was tilted back with his eyes shut closed, constant moans escaped his mouth. He loved the feeling of your pussy clenched around him to even think about anything. But you bit your lip in frustration. You didn’t want his hands just laying on you. You wanted him smack it with as much force as he could. He could put those muscles to use and man handle you a little. But you were here to fend for yourself. A visible pout was permanent on your lips but your partner wasn’t able to see it because he was enjoying himself below you.

But your trainer did. Bakugou was paying close attention to you. From the moment Izuku’s cock entered you to your little pout, he noted every movement and every expression you made. He raised an eyebrow, noting that small action and saving it for later.

Deku’s moans were growing louder and more inconsistent. He bucked his hips up, trying to be in motion with you but was getting sloppier by the second. It soon became too much for him and hot, white cum exploded inside the condom.

“Fuuuuck,” Izuku let out one last breath and flopped his arm out in exhaustion. He took a minute to catch his breath while you were getting off him and already started cleaning yourself up. Dammit, you didn’t even cum.

You were gathering your belongings, meanwhile, Izuku was chatting it up with Bakugou again. Before he leaves, Izuku comes up to you, places a hand on your lower back and gave you a genuine smile.

“Thanks for the amazing session,” he said. You gave him your best, fakest smile.

“Back at ya,” you reply. Your smile dropped the moment you turned around and you sighed in annoyance. You hated to think that you’d have to go home to finish yourself off but it looks like that’s exactly what you were going to have to do. Bakugou came up behind you and cleared his throat, causing you to jump in place.

“How was your first session?” he asked. You took a sip of your water to give it a bit of thought. Was this a fun experience? Oh, most definitely. Would you do it again? Probably. Did you cum? Hard no.

“It was good,” you lied. The experience was definitely new and refreshing but the sex was so mediocre that it was almost a little boring. But you couldn’t tell your trainer that. So you gave a sweet smile and picked up your bag. “I’ll see you at the next session!”

But the next session felt exactly the same as the first. You had a different partner this time. A big, scruffy dude with semi-long red hair that was pulled in a ponytail. He was just as built as Izuku, if not bigger. He had the cutest and sweetest personality. And just seeing him, you’d think this cute puppy would turn into a hungry wolf but you were wrong. As per usual.

Bakugou had made you kneel on this couch that he had provided. Kirishima was fucking you from behind but not hitting any of the right spots. His large hands were placed on your hips but they were glued there and he wasn’t touching you anywhere else.

Again, you faked your moans to mask the image of you not having a good time. Though, when you peeked behind you to get a look at your partner, he was in pure bliss. Eyes closed, mouth hung open, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, sweat trickling down his forehead. Damn, was it a sexy sight. At least he was having a fun time.

Every now and then, your mind would wander. It could be many things: you could think about what you were going to eat for dinner, or what your partner was like in bed with a lover, or if you forgot to turn the light off in your bathroom. Oh shit, what were you doing again? You opened one eye and Kirishima was focused solely on slamming his dick in your vagina. Sighing, you had to remind yourself that this was meant for exercise, not for pleasure. Although, it would be nice if you could feel nice too once in a while. Exercise was the prime reason you signed up but like… you thought it would be a win-win situation.

Your mind continued to wander for the rest of the session until you mind was set on a certain trainer you have the hots for. You could see his muscles through his tight fitted shirt, making him look even more buff than he already was. He looked so strong, you could only imagine what having sex with him was like.

You could imagine it now; face twisted in pleasure as he pounds into mercilessly, just like how you want it. You could feel that familiar butterfly feeling in the pit of your stomach just thinking about it. But then, you thought that he must be like all the other men; only chasing their own high instead of pleasuring their partner.

Session after session was exactly the same. You can pleasure that dick, but he can’t even find the clit. But honestly, you were okay with it because at least you could exercise while doing your favorite sport.

You were wiping yourself up after one session, drinking from a bottled water as your trainer, Bakugou, comes up behind you.

“How was the session?” Bakugou asked after your partner has just left the room. You took another sip of water before answering.

“Mhm, it was okay,” you tried your best to sound positive. You thought your conversation was going to end there, like it always has but something in Bakugou decided to investigate a little further.

“How do you really feel?” he questions you, stepping a little closer and observing your facial features for any lies. “I could tell that you weren’t enjoying it. Off day?” You put your water bottle away, thinking of how to respond to him. Did you really want to tell him how you were really feeling? You didn’t want to seem like a freak to him. Did you really want to tell him how you like to be choked, so much so that you feel like you can’t breath. Or that you want someone to just spank you until there’s bruises because you love the idea of being marked. Or that you want to feel stuffed to the brim but still beg for more?

“I just like it a little rough,” you explained. Bakugou nods his head and hums in understanding.

“I thought they were going pretty rough on you,” he thought. But you just groaned and rolled your eyes.

“I guess, but I want more!” you exclaim, letting out an exasperated sigh. “This is why I have such a hard time with my sex life because every guy is too busy chasing after their own high that they forget that I need to feel good too. Not every guy is into rough sex. I know that. But I just want someone to blow my back out for once! Like not holding back and just fuck me until I’m in tears… but one can only dream, right?” you chuckled at the end. You didn’t mean to go on a tangent but fuck it, why not? He’s your trainer anyway. He’s supposed to know everything about you if he wants to tend to your needs. Bakugou just looks at you in silence. You take that as a sign to continue.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong. This whole program is fun and I really love the idea but just once in a while, I want to have good sex, too,” you continued to open up to your trainer. You finally turned your head to get a look at his reaction to your rant and you saw those crimson getting closer and closer to you until you were right under him, looking up. Your heart skips a beat having him so close to you. You could smell his burnt vanilla caramel cologne, his scent filling all of your senses at once.

“Then would you like a private session?” he asks you in a whisper, his head tilted down at you. You were so mesmerized by him that you followed his every move.

“With who?” you asked.

“Me.” He responded in that sexy, raspy voice of his.

“When?”

“Now.” Bakugou pushes you against the cold mirror as a form of intimidation. Bakugou knows that he shouldn’t be doing this. Taking advantage of your weakness, suggesting private sessions when he’s strictly not allowed to, especially not on company’s time. It was wrong. But he’s had his eyes on you since the moment you walked in the gym for the very first time. And when you said what you said earlier, it was practically fate that you became one of his students.

The cold mirror touching your back sent you into shock, but the warmness of his body touching your chest made up for it all. He tilts your chin up so you could look in his half closed eyes full of lust. And then you couldn’t take it anymore.

You grabbed him by the neck and pulled him in for a hungry kiss. Your lips smashed together, causing your teeth to crash but you didn’t care. And neither did Bakugou because he was just as hungry as you, kissing you with the same amount of passion.

He wraps his arm your waist, pulling you closer to him, if that was even possible at this point. With one swift handful of ass, he lifts you off your feet so that your legs were wrapped around his waist. The moment you became stable, Bakugou gives your ass a smack, making you jolt up.

“Mhm!” you made a surprised noise through the kiss but didn’t stop kissing him. God, you didn’t want to stop. When you came back down, you could feel his erection resting right on top of your clit. He carries you to one of the equipment stored in the room, a couch, while you grind on him, hopping to get more friction to stimulate your needs.

As soon as your back hit the couch, clothes were already being stripped off of you. There goes your shirt, then your sports bra. Finally, your pants. Last but not least, your lace panties that were already wet from your previous session are now even more soaked from his teasing. Wasting no time in discarding your panties, he pulls your waist I so that you’re laying flat on your back, your pussy right in his face I all of its glory.

“Fuck, you’re already so wet for me. I haven’t even done anything yet,” he says. You could feel his beath tickling your wet folds. He was so close yet so far. Just having his breath on you made your pussy clench over nothing. Bakugou puts his nose right on your clit, taking a good whiff of your after workout sex. God, it was intoxicating and he couldn’t wait to dig right in.

“Thank you for the food,” he says before completely devouring you. He took no time in exploring every fold, every inch of your pussy, eating you out like there was no tomorrow. He was rough around your entrance but soft and gentle around your clit. It was like light feather licks, barely touching you but sending you into sensory overload. When he got closer to your entrance, that’s when he started to get rough. Slurping and devouring your wetness, getting every last drop and leaving no leftovers.

Bakugou grabbed hold of your thighs, squeezing them and pulling your body even closer to his face so he could tongue fuck you. His tongue enters you, pushing its way through to get a better taste of your sweet cunt. At the same time, your mouth is hung open in pleasure, moans spilling out of your mouth and you couldn’t stop. Bakugou took this opportunity to stick three fingers in your mouth.

“Noisy bitch. Suck,” he commanded. And so you sucked on his fingers, like a little girl eating her lollipop. He only had three fingers in your mouth, but they were so thick that you couldn’t possibly put any more in. Yet you still covered his fingers in your thick saliva, making sure each finger was coated and wet enough so he could fuck you.

You looked up at him, purposefully making a sultry face, with your big, innocent eyes. You wanted to give him a small show, making sure that he was watching every move that you made. Your tongue found its way in between each finger, licking up and down, sucking each individual finger, and letting go with a loud ‘pop’. You got disappointed when Bakugou removed his hands from you mouth. But was pleasantly surprised when he stuck all three fingers in your throbbing cunt without warning. It’s not like you needed the prepping anyway when you were already soaking wet. Your back arched and chills ran down your spine. You didn’t know how this was possible, but the moment he entered his fingers, it was pure bliss. You already felt like you wanted to cum because he just managed to hit that magical spot in one go. You couldn’t even imagine what it would feel like when he fucks you with his fat cock.

“God, you’re so fucking tight. I can feel you clenching around me,” Bakugou watched as he slides his fingers in and out of your slick folds. He gives you a minute to adjust before picking up the pace. Every thrust of his hand, he keeps getting deeper and is always right the perfect damn spot. It was driving you mad. He hasn’t even fucked you yet and you were already a moaning mess. You couldn’t even form any words, you were such in a trance. It wasn’t before long until you had that familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach. The feeling gradually and rapidly escalated. Bakugou could feel it too: the way your walls clenched around his fingers a little too tight, he knew you were going to cum anytime soon.

“Bakugou~” you whined, holding onto his forearms for dear life. You needed to prepare yourself for this one.

“Gonna cum, princess?” Bakugou teased. You couldn’t answer him. More like you weren’t able to hear his question because you were so focused on this intense feeling that was going to explode any minute. Bakugou took his free hand and pushed your legs up so that they were pressed against your chest. He, then, leaned on them so weren’t able to move or squirm out of his grasp. And he went even faster, the sound of your juices was sinful.

“AH!” you screamed, letting your orgasm take over and wash over you. You thought he would stop once you had your first orgasm but he wasn’t stopping. He continued his fast pace. You wanted to make him stop, the overstimulation was getting too much for you. You tried moving your legs but Bakugou’s grip on you was nailed down. You weren’t going anywhere. You just had to take it but it still felt so good. The moment you felt like it was all too much to handle, Bakugou took his fingers out. And they were covered in a thick, white consistency. If he spread his fingers out, your cum would string along each finger. Bakugou didn’t hesitate to lick it all off with one swipe of his tongue.

“On all fours,” he demanded, standing up while pumping his cock for you. You didn’t have to be asked twice. Despite the numb feeling in between your legs, you enthusiastically got on your hands and knees, ready to be penetrated by your trainer. Bakugou gave your ass a small smack before lining his cock in front of your entrance. That small smack was enough for you to have hearts in your eyes. You let out a small mewl of delight and Bakugou smirked.

“Yeah? You like it when I smack your ass?” Bakugou asked.

“I love when you smack my ass. Please spank me again,” you begged. Bakugou took his hand and gave you cheek another blow, this time harder than the last. Bakugou made sure to look for any change in your expression, careful not to hurt you. But you wanted more. You wanted him to hit your harder.

“Spank me harder, sir,” you pleaded, moving lower so that your ass was hanging in the air. You wiggled your butt, wanting more from the strong blonde. He smirks even bigger, almost animalistic like.

“That’s a good girl,” his voice became raspy and wasted no time in giving you a nice, hard smack to your right cheek. You cried out in a pleasurable pain. You smiled into your moans, drool starting to come out from the sides of your mouth. The sound of his hand making contact to your bare cheek was so loud that it could be heard from outside the closed room. Bakugou spanked you until your cheek was red and raw from his large hands. This. This was what you wanted. This is what you’ve been wanting for so long and you were finally going to get it.

Oh sweetie, the main course hasn’t even started yet. How could you feel this good when he hasn’t even fucked you yet? You could feel the tip of his dick teasing your entrance. You wanted to lean into him yourself, not wanting to wait any longer, but Bakugou had a strong hold on your hips. He gave his cock a few more pumps before slowly sliding his cock inside your ready, wet pussy.

You both moaned in sync at the feeling: his fat cock throbbing inside you and your tight pussy clenching around his cock. Bakugou started thrusting at a good pace. But just like how his fingers felt, he was hitting that sweet spot of yours perfectly. Every thrust was making you see stars.

“Mhm~ Bakugou, faster!” you whined in between moans. Bakugou grabs a fistful of hair before pulling you up so that your back was arched.

“Needy, aren’t we? And what if I say no?” Bakugou asked in your ear. You just whimpered, reaching behind you to grasp his waist and force him to go faster as you try to back into him at the same time. Bakugou didn’t like this too much. He let go out your hair and went straight to your neck, cutting off your air momentarily.

“Did I say you could do that?” he questioned through gritted teeth. You quickly shook your head.

“No, sir,” you barely managed to say due to your lack of oxygen. He gave you another squeeze before a few smacks to the cheek.

“There we go. Now let’s try that again. What if I say no?” he asks again. You bit your lip trying to come up with an answer. But it was hard to think with a hand was at your throat.

“Please! God, I want you so bad. I want you to fuck me, please!” you practically screamed.

“Good girl,” he said and let go of your neck. You gasped for air, coughing in the process but Bakugou didn’t allow you to fully recover. He pounded into you with no mercy. You couldn’t stop your ahego expression from happening, your tongue hung out and your eyes crossed.

He stopped pounding into you to slowly slide his cock fully out of you before slamming into you again. It felt heavenly but a naughty thought came to your mind. You were probably going to get punished for it later, but you were feeling rebellious in the moment. When he slide his cock out, before he could enter you again, you got up and pushed him on the couch. Midair, Bakugou sensed what you were doing. So instead of being victorious and pining him down, he flipped you so that you were pined against the couch, your hands pined above your head.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he gets close to you. You giggle and look away playfully.

“Not playing by the rules,” you laughed. Bakugou couldn’t help but break a smile as well.

“Naughty, naughty. I’ll show you who’s the dominant one,” he said and smashed his cock back inside you, not giving you time to breath or adjust to him in this new position.

You could feel another wave coming and it was fast approaching. Bakugou was being even more vocal now, huffing and groaning into your neck. His hips rutted into you sloppier each second and more frantic. He was getting close too.

You whined loudly, not being able to hold onto anything as your orgasm hit you like a tsunami so you arched your back and fumbled with your legs. The clenching of your walls caused Bakugou to reach his limit. He pulled out, spraying his cum all over your stomach and chest. His hot cum felt sticky on your skin. Despite being covered in his specimen, Bakugou pulled you close to his sweaty body, your foreheads resting together while you both catch your breath.

You entered the gym with a smile and a skip to your walk. You got a little surprised when you saw that your trainer and new partner were inside the room before you. Puffing out a cheek in disappointment, you scold yourself for not leaving earlier. You were always early to get a good stretch in. But as soon as you saw your handsome trainer, a smile came back to your face.

You rushed to his side, jumping into his arms and giving him a kiss on the lips.

“Hi, baby!” you greeted him. He smiles back at you.

“Ready for your session?” he asks and you just give him a lovey dovey smile and a nod.

“Ah, this is one of my good friends. He’ll be your partner for today,” Bakugou sets you down to introduce you to yet another partner. The two toned hair guy gives you a shy wave.

“Todoroki. You can call me Shouto,” he introduces himself. Aw, he seems really sweet. Shy, but hopefully he’s not like that in bed. Todoroki leads to you the mat on the floor to get your session started. You glanced back at your trainer and give him a wink. He shakes his head at you but you didn’t miss that smile he was trying to hide. Because you know that he was going to make up for this session later tonight.

[genderkoolaid]

in response to anon w/ pain while standing: that sounds a lot like what i experienced in hs, so i figured id drop some extra tips, mostly geared toward movement because it's what helped me. my problem was pretty much that im low tone (less tension in muscles at rest than typical) and subclinically hypermobile which may or may not be what you're dealing with so keep that in mind and ymmv. also disclaimer that i am in no way a trained or licensed doctor/pt/etc

stretching: this has already been said, but it's worth a repeat. especially since most school gym programs do a shit job at teaching it. if your school has a dance elective/gym class chances are the teacher in charge will probs know some good basic stretching routines

walking: standing in place is not something our bodies were built for. just maintaining balance takes a lot of muscle tension. pacing or shifting when you need to be upright might feel a lot better & relieve some tension. it's not always feasible but it can help. also a nice low-impact exercise if you want/need it, just make sure you walk somewhere with plenty of places to sit & take a break. (swimming and yoga are also nice but can be a lot less accessible so they may or may not be feasible)

posture: this is a big one for folks with low tone, because less tone = more effort to maintain posture = slouching. no shame, im right there with you, but it can cause neck and back pain. plus it can make breathing hard which means you get tired faster. so what i try to do is pick a particular hallway at school and just check my posture every time i walk down it. eventually you can expand this to more hallways/the walk to the fridge/etc. take it slow, this can be really tiring.

strengthening: this is pretty specific to low tone, but strengthening your muscles can make maintaining posture etc easier on your body. that said, USE CAUTION. go slowly. ask for help. if your joints hurt stop & reassess.

sit & be fit: ok so probably not specifically this program because it's been off the air for years, but exercise programs aimed at the elderly are a godsend. this was already mentioned for stretching but also in general they're aimed at gentle strengthening & stretching and can be great for joint pain. plus they might have different modifications for each exercise to fit people with different needs. also. goofy outfits if the show's old enough

pain rec anon again: i want to clarify that im not saying your pain is because you're lazy or your fault. it's not, and the fact that you're being told that is total bs. trust me, ive been right where you are and i would not wish that miserable combination of pain and self-doubt on anyone the reason so many of my tips involved movement or exercise is because the issues that ive experienced and understand the best are essentially postural issues stemming from musculoskeletal weirdness (sadly not a technical term) and movement tends to be the key there. probably not super helpful for pain from other sources but I figured it was worth sending on the off chance

!!!

I think exercise-based advice from other disabled people is… more trustworthy than from abled people, because disabled people 1. Don’t expect it to “fix you” 2. Tend to emphasize caring for yourself and knowing your limits in exercise 3. Actually have experience with exercising while disabled lmao. You get a lot less “uhh just go for a run every day it’s easy and definitely won’t wreck your spoons” and a lot more “here’s some specific exercises that I was able to do well and were helpful, and also won’t totally exhaust you/hurt you”

[apparentlyaswarmofbees]

Hello I hope your doing well! I have a headcanon idea how would the brothers and previously undatebles react to a masseuse/masseur (people who give out professional massages)

Let's try this shall we~

Edit: I was informed by someone who is actually familiar with this field that the term Masseuse and Masseur can be seen as insulting in the profession, thank you for informing me again!

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The Boys and a Massage Professional/Therapist MC

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Warning: uncensored swearing, a lot of it asfkfkajshfkslajd

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Lucifer

Tense shoulders that could cut steel, harder than a fucking nokia phone from centuries to eons of stress, if I was a professional at massages I think I would be itching to grab onto those muscles of his like dough.

He will probably feel chills down his spine whenever you are around.

Won't take much convincing if the time is right to ask him to please let you release the pressure on him because dear fucking lord I wouldn't be able to just stand and watch either.

Good fucking luck in the process, when I say this man is stiff this man is STIFF.

He will be feeling so much better by the end of it there's a chance he will be slightly dazed.

Also it improved his mood which led to less harsh punishments, which now has led to more demands from others than from Lucifer himself for you to massage him.

I think you should start asking for payment at this point-

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Mammon

And talking about payment, you will definetelly need to ask it from this one because after the first time you gave it to him for free out of your own good will he started to come back for it all. the. time.

Okay, he's cute and the sounds he makes are so 👌. But damn boy this is not exactly so easy so please give something back??????

Well, you just need to say the word and he will always have something in ready to give you. A date at a place you have been wanting to go for a good while now or something you have had you eyes on for a good time.

It's a very win win kind of deal.

Though at some point when you massaged his legs he felt so light he ran faster than he could control and almost ran into a wall, actually no, he did ran into a wall there's a crack in there ouch-

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Leviathan

In which the cause of the second oldest running was probably to scape the demands for his money back from the third oldest, though Levi was definetelly too stunned by the lighting speed to react right away.

He now makes sonic jokes when refering to Mammon.

But going back to massages, this fucking snake has such a bad posture I would be in back pain just from watching him sit.

And don't expect it to be easy to fix that because everytime you touch him he just tenses up further.

I swear it would be easier to just knock him out and acupuncture him.

You will succeed at some point if you don't give up, and BOY he also makes some 👌😩 sounds.

They're a lot more dorkish and high pitched and he will definetelly not be functional by the end of it.

He will start trying to fix his posture from now on to not make your work go to waste.

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Satan

A curious cat that would just straight up ask for a session (not for free of course he already has something to give you back in ready) after witnessing the shenanigans above.

Not so stiff as Lucifer but still fucking hard, which is to be expected since he has so much rage bottled up.

Chances are he's turning into his demon form unconsciously.

It's a bit of an intimidating session not gonna lie, he is basically using it to relieve himself from part of his wrath so with every groan it feels like he's going to jump at you and rip you to shreds.

He won't of course, instead he will smile brightly by the end of the session and give you your reward for such a good job.

It's honestly worth it though you will probably be needing a massage yourself after-

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Asmodeus

And that's where pretty boy comes in! He doesn't have a professional tittle on him but he has centuries of experience so that's close right?

He will have all things ready, just say the word and he will give you the best payment for all your hard work ever: a chance to relax yourself.

And man he's good.

It's also not very tiring to massage him either, his smooth skin is addicting to touch, the atmosphere he will help set up will be perfect, and he also spills a lot of tea in between so that's a plus for entertainment.

Seriously whenever it becomes too much to be with the rest of the brothers just hit Asmo up and he's gotchu.

Private spa day comming right up.

.

Beelzebub

He won't ask because it will completelly scape his mind.

He plays a lot of sports and does a lot of exercising so of course he has a lot of sore muscles.

And you can't tell me you wouldn't want to massage his belly, he's a glutton, it's literally asking for you to massage there.

Baby boy is always so gratefull, thanks to your aftercare on his legs, arms and torso, he has never felt lighter!

Which has led him to accidentally break some of the gym weights, win a sports game almost all on his own and make another restaurant suffer because he felt he could eat more than usual.

Although I would like to say you should proceed with the massages with caution, his smile is too precious to ever say no to.

.

Belphegor

Easiest target ever, will probably sleep for 24 hours in one go right after.

And he won't wake up for shit.

Though once he wakes up after those 24 hours he will basically be wide awake for the next 24 hours, so honestly? This has turned out to be very useful in important ocasions.

Will often give out some whines in the middle of a session, possibly half asleep for the entire time.

I feel like he would feel quite ticklish in some places even though you wouldn't be purposelly trying to tickle him, probably.

And I know many of you love his laugh, so yeah that's a plus.

He will definetelly offer to massage you back, and yes he will be good at it, and no it's not because of experience, yes it's because he's too much of a genious and has basically learned through osmosis just from getting massages from you.

.

Solomon

Let me tell ya, he's stiffer than you think.

Bad posture, centuries of responsabilities, strain from excessive use of magic and pacts and the weight of existence when you are both immortal and unable to die.

He could easily rival Lucifer and he won't even realize it.

Will definetelly agree to get a massage and will definetelly say "well I do feel a bit under the weather" and his muscles will definetelly feel a little bit more than just under the weather.

It's easier to chew on hard bread than massage Solomon.

He also offers to pay you back.

Do not agree to get a massage from him, I repeat, DO NOT.

.

Simeon

If you didn't feel like touching that exposed waist of his then you're lying.

If you don't offer first, he will ask you for it at some point.

And man to have a literal angel right under you, letting out a few exhales of satisfaction and bliss with every move of your skilled hands and arms, sometimes a chuckle followed by a comment that could start a small conversation.

Smooth skin, perfectly shaped body, I don't think I would be able to get my hands off him either.

Massage his hands, from his palms to his fingertips, massage his shoulders, from his blades to his neck, thumbs pressing close to his spine.

He will gladly let you indulge yourself for as long as you wish.

.

Diavolo

Another one who's stiffer than you think.

You could literally jump on his back and it would feel like pavement.

Oh and he's now definetelly addicted to massage.

Of course he will also be paying you back with whatever you wish (don't make a joke and say something like 100,000,000 grimm, he will take it seriously-).

Depending on the day he may actually fall asleep, which is very cute.

On another note tho, have you ever thought about sleeping on his back? Because I have-

.

Barbatos

Good luck getting him to take off his clothes, even more good luck to catch him not being busy.

This man will gladly give out massages of his own (which could probably knock out a dragon because damn boy those hands are skilled) but will probably not be as easy to convince to get a massage.

It will take an extremelly tiring day to make him agree and it will be so worth it.

Why you ask? Because the look in his face will alway be so soft by the end of it. Pure gratefullness.

Since then he will start to actually seek you out from time to time, the little smile on his face almost looking excited.

[pretty-face-breaker]

Maybe Not Now

During Pavel’s daily torment of him, Emir sees something in him that he hadn’t seen before.

c.w. military whump, sadistic whumper, forced exercise as punishment, insults, degrading language, captivity, alluding to death as an alternative to torture

 —

“That’s all for now, soldaty. Back to your dorms and make it neat,” General Levkin called. 

With a raise of his palm, collective relief could be heard above the fading grunts. Men rose from the field and dusted their palms on their trousers, snatching up their rifles. Twenty of them clicked sharply as they swung over various shoulders. Some grabbed a drink of water they had been meaning to get for hours as clouds swept over the barren training grounds. 

The drills of the day were over. 

As the soldiers filed after one another, murmuring too fast and foreign to be kept up with, Emir followed behind with a dry throat. His arms ached. He could hardly remember making that many mistakes in his basic training or what were supposedly called mistakes by Stanislav Levkin’s eye. He always seemed to catch him doing something wrong. Inaccurate aim. Sloppy position. Poor posture. 

But he had taken the admonitions, the hits and laps, nodded obediently, straightened his back or concentrated harder on his aim. He didn’t feel like fighting the corrections in front of fifty others and with the amount of sleep hardly managed each night, he didn’t doubt some were his fault. That, and for other reasons. Emir winced as a now clear head focussed on the burning in his bicep. 

The place Pavel had rubbed the salt earlier that week. 

Maybe yes, sir-ing his way through the drills had been also to spare his throat from overexerting itself more than he had torn in, wailing wordlessly among laughter and pleading in broken Russian to a man who likely hadn’t heard the word in his life. Emir grimaced and, feeling a bump of a body behind him, sped up to climb the stairs. Until he felt a hand pulling him aside. 

“Not so fast. Hey, you.” Pavel grinned as he pulled him from formation and back down the steps.

Emir froze and his hand shot to his collar, trying to keep his balance. “Podozhdite—” But Pavel wasn’t one to wait and pulled him fiercely until he tripped on the rocks, barely catching himself on the stone railing. Humiliated, he straightened up glaring. Pavel’s leer was ever present with that same colour of resentment, his eyes cold and devising. 

The taller man chuckled. “Did you even complete your recruit training? With how today went, I thought Stas was going to pin you to that target.”

Emir swallowed, trying not to dignify that with a response. 

Pavel’s face darkened in silence. “Follow me then get on the fucking ground. I’m not done with you.” 

His heart slammed in his throat as he followed without a word, feeling his fingertips grow cold as the group’s noises faded. With each moment, he pushed his feet further to the edges of the terrain where voices ended and the forest began and each step felt harder to take, the closer those trees got. He sucked in a quiet breath when Pavel stopped. 

“Drop. Feet together.” 

Emir obeyed, falling tense to the pushup form, and dug his nails into the earth for a brief moment, just to feel the cool of the grass, to ground himself. Once, he let his lungs expand with a breath and plunged. Pavel didn’t have to say a word for him to begin and he figured he could save him the trouble. Save it for himself too so he wouldn’t have to pay for it later again. 

He bent his elbows, breathing evenly and keeping them tracking alongside his body, until his chest dipped just below the angle of each elbow, then pushed back up, expelling the air. Slow, controlled so his throat wouldn’t burn like it had last time. His eyes were fixed on the trees across from him, the endless stretch of wood and darkness that he watched from his bed sometimes. 

It reminded him of the trip he had taken years ago, camping with his cousins after having convinced his mother that he would bring a gun and that everything would go well. Even now, he remembered the distaste in her head shake and the veiled worry in her tone as she had thrown up a hand in defeat. 

Fine, abni, but if you get mauled by a bear, don’t say I didn’t warn you.

A smile graced his mouth. It was like he was hardly there anymore. Though a few reps more and he felt a shift in breathing as Pavel sunk down onto the log next to him. 

“Feel like this has gotten easier for you. A hundred and fifty reps, nothing, eh?” He chuckled and patted him on the shoulder with enough force that Emir briefly swayed. “Fast learner. You don’t piss me off as much.”

“Then why do you keep hurting me?” Emir asked coolly. His jaw tightened a bit, hearing the huff. As if the question was a challenge. 

“Because you’re fun to hurt. You make fun noises, give me—all of us—a good time.” 

Pavel’s eye caught a nearby stone and he tapped on his knee thoughtfully as Emir plunged into another graceful pushup. The leer he wore quickly grew crooked and he revelled in the tiny spark of fear that stuttered Emir’s breathing. Hearing it was always wonderful because it meant the little shit was listening to him and on his toes more often than he had been. 

“I noticed your back was all fucked up,” Pavel admitted, reaching for the rock which could have easily been five pounds, “when we changed.” 

Emir’s eyes stayed frozen on the hollow of a nearby tree. His chest was beginning to burn with the onset of faint panic but he was surprised as it wasn’t his fiftieth repetition yet where the burning usually started. “Is that new?” 

The pressure of the rock came fully and at once into the small of his back and he jerked and tightened into a plank. He couldn’t move for a few seconds, realizing Pavel’s intention. 

“You haven’t finished. Keep going or the next one goes into your head.” 

Admittedly, the next few repetitions of the pushup were only slightly less comfortable, just a tinge less familiar with the weight on his spine and he felt his elbows wobble only the slightest amount. Still, Emir persisted. He had gone no more than ten before the next rock, larger this time, sat in front of the first. Hearing Pavel’s snicker, a silent rage caved in his chest. 

“You just had to fall into my hands, huh?” he laughed, patting the ground for another. “Unlucky bastard.” 

Emir was beginning to feel the onset of exhaustion seeping into an already worn body. He knew if he collapsed, Pavel would have something to say about it, presumably with his shoe. He winced and exhaled on the wrong motion, had to pause for a moment and focus his breathing before the next plunge and all while ignoring the wry laughter of the man next to him. 

“At least I’m not dead,” he muttered. 

Pavel stirred before he was about to lay the third rock on the next few ridges of his spine. At first, he scoffed off the response but didn’t resume the motion. He stayed silent for a few moments, letting Emir dip into the next less-than-graceful pushup and watched a bead of sweat roll down his dark temple. Something akin to cynical admiration passed across his eyes.

“You’d rather be alive, here?”  

This time, Emir stopped too. He kept his eyes forward, trained as usual, but too long had passed for it to feel like Pavel’s routine. His gaze gradually flickered over to the green eyes and tan skin beside him that so typically fixed him like prey, now staring at him in annoyed curiosity. “Yeah,” he admitted. 

The trees rustled softly in the background, dampening the mechanics from the camp as if they were unpleasant, fading memories. 

“You’re an idiot.” Pavel let the stone go and smirked to himself at the wince but it was less self-satisfied. “For getting caught and for thinking this is going to be better.”

“My pilot got shot and we crashed directly in front of you,” Emir grumbled, feeling a pulling need to defend his honour and that of his late pilot’s. “Didn’t get caught.” He glanced at Pavel warily and breathed out, seeing no brimming violence under his expression. “Besides, I-I have a family at home to think about.” 

The green eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You’re not going home.” 

He swallowed, not quite yielding. “Maybe not now.” 

“Maybe not ever.” 

Emir waited in silence for a minute more, saying little besides the soft, stuttering breaths that whistled in unison with the pines, gull calls, and the dirt twisting under Pavel’s shoe. He sensed it was an exercise to relieve boredom with how often he did it. He didn’t want to think about what Pavel had just said.

He thought about it too often, already. 

Slowly, he exhaled and pushed down again under the weight of three rocks, elbows bending alongside his body, and inhaled like it would be his last breath on his—shit, he had lost count. He mechanically continued, hoping that at a certain point, Pavel would stop him and let him go when he had fulfilled the day’s quota of entertainment but then, froze completely upon realizing that it had always been his responsibility to count. 

Pavel noticed his uncertainness. “What? You lost count or something?” 

Emir did nothing for a minute before lapsing into silent despair and nodding. What was the worst he could do, really? Kick him in the ribs? Big fucking whoop. He waited for the blow anyways, feeling that it would be a welcome relief to the incessant burning in his arms that threatened to have his entire body give out at that moment and crash to the ground onto that asshole’s boot. 

But in the meantime, Pavel had been quiet and uncharacteristically thoughtful. 

“Get up,” he ordered. “That’s enough.” He pushed himself up from the log and stretched to the clouds, wincing himself at the unwise angle he had been slouching in since Emir had begun the exercise. “Go back to your dorm and don’t let me see you again today.” 

Too stunned to move, Emir fixed him with a fearful look until he realized it was a serious order. He could have let himself fall to the ground and really, it was tempting. To lay there and let the exhaustion seep into the dirt but Pavel’s patience already seemed stick-thin and he didn’t want to push today’s generosity. He rolled to let the rocks fall off and bolted to standing, starting his journey back to the camp. When he turned for Pavel’s approval, the man wasn’t moving. 

His eyebrows pricked up. “Maybe not now,” he muttered. “Idiot.”  

Tagging: @straight-to-the-pain @heathenville

 Let me know if you’d like to be added/removed!

[rustytrident]

haikyuu boys sitting next to you in class

i miss them sm </3

ch: kuroo tetsuro, oikawa tooru, iwaizumi hajime, bokuto koutarou, hinata shoyou

cw: none

kuroo

this man,,,, he literally has no idea what personal space is. his stuff is definitely on your side but you don't say anything about it cause he's cute (i wouldn't either)

he does it on purpose tho

he actually does a lot of things to purposely annoy you cause he thinks your reactions are hilarious

catch him making fun of you if you stutter or mess up an exercise, or even telling you to be quiet at you when you choke up a laugh at yet another sarcastic comment he made like two seconds ago

but he's a nerd, don't forget that! convince him to help you at chemistry or physics once and you have a tutor for the end of the year

cocky mf

his notes are also not that bad, they're just hurried af so most of his handwriting is just,,, scribbles. u get used to it dw

always has an extra snack for you in his bag cause you tend to forget and he wants you to eat and get your docohaexegonic acid or whatever the fuck he's talking about i wouldn't know

will definitely keep you two from getting in trouble (if you forgot your hw for example, he'll just direct the conversation elsewhere until the teacher forgets about it) cause this man is SO smart ugh i love him

oikawa

he's always, always late, but he manages to be sat right before the bell rings. when you ask him about it, he usually claims he's talented like that or some shit

you know the reason why, though. coffee shops don't open until about 15 minutes before your first class, yet he always seems to walk into the room with his and your favourite drinks on hand

that and his bulky ass keys that are hooked on his finger every morning (they include a volleyball, an alien, a lip balm and a pepper spray keychain on each ring and like one (1) key sksmsksks)

you would expect him to be really talkative in class but he always pays attention in all lessons except from math and physics. he has a personal vendetta against them and you can't make him change his mind no matter what

so math and physics are notes passing time~ he will talk to you about the latest gossip of the school, how much better the volleyball team is from the one they're going against next, how bored he currently is, all that

he always smells so good tho and has the cleanest notes you've ever seen.

however, he will go fucking crazy if you so much as brush over the highlighter ink while it dries down so just,,, don't disrupt him while he indulges in his pinterest fantasy

iwaizumi

will blush if he so much as touches you or your things, especially if it's on accident oml

that OR he will literally use your things all the time (it's not that he doesn't have a pen, it's just that yours writes better)

he has godzilla themed stationary. that's it there's nothing to add here. no, you can't touch it. yes, you can be jealous over how cool he is. he won't take criticism either.

very eager to help you if you're struggling with a paper or something. he ain't the sharpest tool in the shed but he tries his hardest no matter what </33

will very aggressively whisper your name if you stop paying attention or zone off, especially in classes where he knows you have trouble following

usually listens to music during breaks or leaves to go to the other third years' classes

but if he sees you in a bad mood he'll sit next to you until you talk about your feelings for as long as you need. so far you've spent an entire lunch break just venting to him non stop

if he doesn't catch you in class he'll call your name after school and check up on if you're okay before you part ways

bokuto

he's weirdly good at math and will not hesitate to flex his knowledge

super bad in subjects like literature and history, tho. they just don't stimulate his brain enough for him to spend his time on them

so you guys help each other whenever you're stuck on a question, or exchange notes pretty often (pls tell him his notes are good and that he helped you out, he won't stop smiling for the rest of the day)

his favourite sitting position is laying back on his chair, legs sprawled out in front of him and arms either in his pockets or behind his head

usually that's when he zones out the most too, so you have to nudge him in order to keep paying attention in class and fix his posture

every break is filled with him talking to you about volleyball and how good of a wing spiker he is (just smile and nod, he wants your attention and doesn't know how to get it)

will stare at you with huge puppy eyes if you have chapstick, a uniquely scented hand sanitizer or his favourite snack just plain debating whether he should ask you for some or not

but by the time he makes his decision, you've already offered some of it to him, or have an extra just for this occasion

hinata

constantly ask you what's going on, his one braincell is activated only when he plays volleyball pls-

as a result he always copies your notes and answers to the hw cause he didn't do it. you know he didn't, he knows he didn't, boom you're the reason he graduated high school

he is the class clown, though, and does crazy good impressions of every teacher just to make you laugh

you also know everything about his personal life cause he never. shuts. up. you know what suga brought to practice last week, what natsu drew for her school project, what show he watched the night before

like iwaizumi, he has themed stationary, but his are volleyball related. just picture a mikasa ball eraser rolling around on yalls desk at all times

he makes u do tiktok dances during the breaks cause no one will do them with him and he's too shy to go to the second years' floor to do them with nishinoya and tanaka

boy doodles e v e r y w h e r e . it's borderline weird to not see a doodle at the corner of your notebook page at the end of the day

he has to keep his mind occupied and he's not gonna limit his talent just on his papers, ya know?

[clay-air]

Ughhh I'm trying to finish an animation before my class tomorrow and the hours spent bending over my light board have been killing my back and neck, which tbh are in pretty bad shape anyway. I can only draw the frames like 1.5 hours at a time max. Time to bust out my heating pad _(:3」z)_

[ms-demeanor]

Feel free to ignore if you're sick of talking about push-ups, but I always find that they work my core harder than my arms or shoulders (trying to fix my shit posture, I've got a terrible swayback that really comes out when I try to keep a straight back for push-ups.) Do you struggle with that at all?

I do not struggle with that but only because I have freakishly overdeveloped core strength due to nearly a decade working on building core strength because of my horrid swiss cheese spine. That and all the muscles in my back are a constant, unending, inflexible knot of pain and I have a lot of trouble bending over so my issues sound like maybe they’re the opposite of your issues.

(I’ve broken two vertebrae, have arthritis, and have a benign spinal tumor; this is why I sometimes can’t walk)

BUT, that said, pushups SHOULD work your core pretty hard. Your spine IS going to want to bend and sag, it IS going to be hard to keep the line.

If that’s an ongoing issue with you I’d say you probably want to a) start with angled push-ups by pushing off a wall at chest height while keeping your back straight and b) try doing kneeling planks and other planks to strengthen your core before you worry about doing push ups. You don’t want to hurt your back (TRUST ME) and should work on the weak point of your form before you start trying to do a movement that you’re not strong enough for.

Also. Seriously. I feel pushups in my back, chest, shoulders, triceps, and abs the next day. They are a complicated exercise that engages A LOT of muscles.

[thereluctantinquisitor]

“Wait… are you braiding my hair?”, “I bet I’m strong enough to pick you up.” or “I didn’t know you were the cuddling type.” for the soft asks! Alternatively, “Next time I’ll hit you like I mean it.” or “You almost knocked me over!” for the rough asks! Whichever you're feeling more. :D

“I bet I’m strong enough to pick you up.”

It would have been nice if Kyri had at least entertained the idea. Even just for a moment. Divider, it would have been nice if any of Delver’s ungrateful companions had responded with even mild acceptance of the fact that he possessed some measure of physical strength. 

Instead, they laughed.

“Delver, you nearly died that one time you had to carry me.” Sylda endlessly delighted in bringing up ‘that one time’ whenever it was even remotely relevant. Sometimes even when it wasn’t. Now there she was, walking beside him and grinning so hard her cheeks must hurt. “You didn’t even have to take me far!”

“Hey, I told you I pulled a muscle.” Delver gestured pointedly to his side. “Right here, remember? That’s the only reason I---”

---“Kyri also has a head’s height on Sylda,” Taelan interjected, as though he hadn’t even heard Delver’s feeble defense. Now if that wasn’t a wound to the ego, Delver didn’t know what was. The younger man barely spoke a damned word to him, but this was when he decided to offer his wisdom? Bitter though he was, Delver supposed it was a gain. Sure, it would be nice if Tael didn’t exercise his new-found confidence by dragging Delver’s pride over the gravel, but beggars can’t be choosers. A comment at his expense was still worlds better than the old hate and fear.

Grunting, Delver folded his arms, fixing his gaze on the woman spearheading their motley group. She never broke stride - not until the midday break. Entire conversations could arrive and pass without even a word of input from the Kyriin. It drove Delver mad, not knowing what it was that pushed her so ceaselessly forward. “Hey, Kyri,” he called. He’d drag her into the conversation whether she liked it or not. “Back me up here - we’ve sparred before. I held my own, didn’t I?”

Still walking, Kyri glanced back, brow arched, and delivered the precise response Delver had hoped she wouldn’t. 

“You could not pick me up, Delver.” 

To Delver’s right, Sylda snorted - she didn’t even try to hide it. Even Taelan was smiling slightly. Probably only because he thought no one was looking. “You’re all traitors,” Delver declared. The note of finality in his voice was unmistakable. “You don’t deserve me.”

“Aw, c’mon...” Sylda nudged him with her elbow, then laughed as Delver haughtily turned his face away. “Okay, okay! I think you could do it. I mean, if you really had to. Like, if it was life or death and the world was ending and we were out of all other options and---” 

---”You just could have just stopped at the first part, you know.”

“I could have... but would you have believed me?”

Well shit, she had him there. Delver considered, then shrugged. “I could learn to dip my toes in ignorance’s blissful waters every once in a while.”

Sylda, rightfully, scoffed. “Uh huh. Sure. And I could run off a cliff’s edge and fly to Talvera.”

Suddenly, Kyri stopped, turned, and fixed the trio with a look that could freeze an arrow mid-flight. They all came to an abrupt halt in the middle of nowhere. The dusty road seemed to stretch endlessly to either side; back the way they came, forward into where they needed to go. Kyri’s eyes burned amber in the morning light. 

“You are strong enough to do it. Yes? Satisfied? Now will you stop this...” Frustrated, Kyri’s brow pinched. Delver knew that look well. More often than not, he was the sole source of its inspiration.

“... Bickering?” Sylda offered after a hesitant pause, and Kyri accepted the suggestion begrudgingly, repeating the word to commit it to memory. She had many patterns, Delver was starting to realise. A thousand things to notice, and a thousand more than slipped by unseen. Most of them were vaguely terrifying.

“Well, you heard her. That settles that.” Smiling, choosing to be self-satisfied, Delver allowed himself a moment to bask in the rare victory. “I could pick her up.”

He felt Kyri’s eyes flick to him before he even had a chance to see it happen. It was like knowing a marksman’s arrow was trained on your skull. 

“You could not pick me up.”

Now, it was Delver’s turn to feel confused. And a little betrayed. “I.... but... why not?”

Three steps carried the Kyriin the short distance back to the group, and two more brought her almost face to face with Delver. Her eyes locked on his, and for a moment, he was convinced she might hit him or kiss him and he wasn’t sure which one would shock him the most.

Instead, she spoke. “Why do you think?”

While he took a theatrical moment to consider, Delver didn’t actually need to think about it. He knew the answer already.

“You wouldn’t let me,” he said.

The corner of Kyri’s mouth quirked up slightly, and something in her posture relaxed. Maybe even approved.

“I would not let you,” she confirmed.