#(which is what my cardio said too)

[healingheartdogs]

It's so funny looking on my patient portal for my doctors and seeing "patient looks well nourished" on all my visit summaries when it is documented by my blood work that I am, in fact, very much NOT well nourished and have been prescribed multiple high dose supplements now to make up for how malnourished I actually am.

[heich0e]

you wake when you hear rustling.

it’s not that the noise is particularly loud, or even disturbing, it just so happens that it’s the thing that rouses you from your slumber.

“tobio?” you speak his name before your eyes are even open, calling out for him before you’re fully conscious. searching for him before you've properly greeted the day.

the rustling stops.

as the morning comes into focus, your gaze finds him standing at the other side of the bed, pulling on his running shorts with a pinched look on his face.

“i was trying to be quiet,” he murmurs softly, as though he’s disappointed. like he somehow failed.

“you were being quiet,” you placate him with a hum, stretching out in bed underneath the covers. your muscles twinge in a pleasant way. your body tender and tired from the night before. there’s a mark at the base of tobio’s throat which the collar of his navy blue hoodie doesn’t quite cover—a reminder on his body of just what had kept the two of you up so late the night before and left you so achy. you blink slowly as you watch him tie a double knot in the drawstring of his shorts. “what are you doing?”

his blue eyes peek over to you. “going for a run.”

you blink again, but this time it’s a bit more incredulous.

“what time is it?” 

“6:07,” tobio reads from the smartwatch on his wrist once he frees it from the cover of his sleeve.

“six am?” you repeat bewilderedly. “tobio, come back to bed. we only went to sleep a few hours ago.”

you push yourself up in bed and wince at the unexpected protest of your body. tobio is quickly dipping near, moving as you move, placing a hand on your shoulder to keep you from rising any higher from where you lay. “don’t do that, it’s too early.”

“it is too early,” you agree pointedly, emphasizing his own argument. “so come back to bed.”

“i have to go for my run,” he replies, a pinch of confusion settling upon his brow.

you huff indignantly. “tobio, i promise you got more than enough activity in last night.”

he purses his lips, but doesn’t otherwise seem swayed by your words. 

“well, if you insist on getting up then i’m getting up too,” you say when he doesn’t reply to your remark. 

“but you need to sleep,” tobio objects, his hand still gently keeping you down even as you press against it.

“if i need to sleep, then so do you,” you counter his point, reaching up to twist your fingers in the material of his sleeve.

“i have much better stamina than you do,” tobio reminds you. not in an unkind way—tobio has never said anything to you unkindly, even though his words may occasionally seem callous. it’s just the way he is. “i’m an olympic athlete.”

as though you could have possibly forgotten.

you roll your eyes and tug his sleeve. “i’m well aware of that, tobio. and i promise you that your fitness will not suffer from taking a single morning to sleep in with your girlfriend. come back to bed.”

tobio hesitates. 

because that’s another thing about tobio: he’s never unkind, and he never denies you anything.

“but i have to—“

“you can go for a run later,” you assure him, tilting your head to the side to rest your cheek against the hand he has on your shoulder as you bat your eyelashes at him. “come back to bed.”

“but i need cardio before—“ 

using your grip on his sleeve, you pull him further into bed until he’s kneeling upon it with both knees, holding himself up over you. he's stronger than you are, and bigger, but he moves willingly. he lets you pull him closer with no resistance or complaint. there’s a pretty pink blush that sits high on his cheeks as he stares down at you from this position, his eyes fixed intently to your face. you watch as they dip slightly to your lips when they curl in a smug little smirk.

“i may not be an olympic athlete, but if you insist on needing cardio, then maybe i can help with that.”

[roseband]

...

[leah-lover]

A person more than an athlete. Nika mühl x reader

Love always had a way of consuming you. Whether it was your friendships, relationships with your parents, your friends, or even your romantic relationships, you felt the love in every part of your body. You loved deeply and wholeheartedly.

You were also a dedicated person. You gave your career all you had which in turn got you a championship in your freshman year.

Women's sports were trending, and you were on top of the pyramid. From sponsorship deals, to ads, interviews, and magazine shoots, you were everywhere. The spotlight didn't mean much to you though. All you cared about was the sleeping body next to you.

Nika was to you the prettiest girl in the world. For her you would absolutely do anything.

“ Good morning.” You whisper into her ear before you kiss her shoulder. “ Morning.” she responds, shifting to lay on her back.

You two start kissing. The kisses were short and sweet which left you needing much more. “ Baby I am gonna be late for class.” She says after pulling out.

“ But…” you start to protest before she cuts you off. “ Babe I still have to go all the way to my room, get ready and go to class. We will finish this later okay?” She says before getting out of bed. You sigh loudly as she wears her shirt and gets her stuff. “ I love you “ you say although what you say isn't clear because your face is hidden by a pillow. “ I love you too. I will see you in practice.” she says before she leaves.

The rest of the day went as usual. You got ready for class, which you attended. You then changed into your huskies' track suit and went to the gym.

You started out training all right. You did your activation, some shooting drills, lifted some weights and got some cardio done.

You didn't talk nika during all of this because coach geno sat you all down in the first session of the year and said. “ You all are UConn players now, you have a big legacy to follow. You need to focus, work hard and train hard, and while you are part of this team relationships with your teammates are absolutely forbidden.” However, you couldn't help but fall in love with the Croatian international, she captured your heart more than basketball everdid.

You thought something was up when the coach asked nika to go to his office for a chat but you didn't give it much thought instead you hung out with Paige and Kk. You didn't see nika leave because you were too busy learning a new dance with Paige.

“ Hey, can you give me a minute?” said the coach to you.

You then enter his office with an unsettling feeling in your stomach.

“What's up coach? “ you say as you dit opposite his desk.

“ Look, I am gonna be as straight with you as I was with nika. You heard what I said the very first time you came to this gym. And you know what is gonna happen now.”

“ Coach with all do respect you can't do this. We are good assets to this team and we have been performing well. We won a whole championship last year while being together.”

“ I'm afraid it is not up for questioning. You will terminate this relationship. You agreed to this when you first signed the contract with us. The contract stated that inter team relationships are forbidden. Plus Nina already agreed to it.”

You didn't know how you got out of that office or how you walked across campus to your dorm. All you knew was that Nika and you were done.

You opened your door, got in and sat on the floor as soon as you closed it. You started to uncontrollably sob. That's when you feel familiar hands wrap around you. Her smell and her touch were comforting.

“ I love you so much.” she whispered in your ear. You could feel her tears on your cheeks.

“ he said you agreed to the bullshit he said.” you say wiping your tears.

“ I couldn't not agree. If he cuts me from the team I am done. I have to go back home and all of this will be for nothing.”

“ We can keep it a secret again. I don't want to live without you.”

“ Baby, if he catches us again we can't come back from it. I love you so much baby but I can't.”

You kiss each other multiple times while holding one another on the floor of your dorm. Nika then leaves and you stay on the floor heartbroken for a long time.

You flipped a switch as soon as she left the door knowing that you aren't gonna wake up next to her, sleep next to her, kiss her, or be inside her.

The next day at training was miserable to say the least. You didn't sleep the night before, you didn't smile, or talk to anybody. Your performance displayed your sadness. You were missing easy shots, and you clearly weren't focused. You didnt talk to nika or look at her. You started like that for 2 weeks you didnt talk to anybody, all you thought about was how much you modded her touch.

“ baby please don't do this.” said nika to you one the way to practice. “ We need to talk.” she says before she pulled you into the medic’s room.

As soon as she closed the door, she pinned you to the wall and started kissing you. You missed the taste of her lips, the weight of her hands on your waist, the way her hands rubbed you sides and her tongue swiped across your.

“ i missed you so fucking much.” she says after pulling out.

“ I am not whole without you. I can't do anything without you. I missed you so much.” you say before kissing her again. You were hungry for her, you needed her more than anything in the world.

“ I don't like this without you. Would you please come back to me?.” she asks while swiping her thumb on your cheek.

“ if it cost me my life to be with you again.” you respond.

'I love you baby.’ she adds.

“ I love you more than you will ever know.” you respond.

[cupid-styles]

the yoga class (hockey!h x ballerina!yn)

in which y/n has to lead a yoga class for the hockey team, and harry doesn't miss out on making fun of her (but maybe he needs her help, too).

I actually love this blurb and I hope you guys enjoy it too :))

word count: 1.8k

content warnings: none really! y/n and harry both being stubborn little shits but minor strides made by the end :)

hockey!h x ballerina!yn masterlist

main masterlist | talk to me

patreon

. . .

When Mrs. Lei asked Y/N if she would mind instructing an entry level yoga class this evening, she neglected to mention that it was for the hockey team.

What she had said implied something along the lines of, “You’re one of my star students and always go above and beyond, and I know I can sucker you into doing nearly anything because you’re an incredibly disciplined dancer with the inability to say no.”

So, naturally, even though it felt like every single tiny muscle in Y/N’s body was aching from practicing grand and tour jetés (Mrs. Lei was ruthless about them), she said she’d do it. Because she’s a sucker without a backbone, and getting placed as a frontline dancer or receiving a glowing recommendation from Mrs. Lei somewhere down the line was more than enough of a reason for her to teach some measly 45-minute yoga class at the end of the day.

She assumes it’s some type of volunteer work, an open call to students across campus. There was a fairly large performing arts sector and, like any other university, a decent amount of sports teams, so Y/N assumed there would at least be a class of 10 or so. Mrs. Lei sets her up with a basket of yoga mats from the gym and some simple instructions of, “it’s meant to be a stretch-heavy, restorative flow, so don’t go too hard on them.”

Easy enough, right?

But Y/N’s stomach slowly begins to churn when 6 pm comes around and the only people filtering in are big, burly men that she feels like she’s only seen in layers upon layers of protective equipment. Y/N isn’t short, nor is she a particularly small person — her abilities as a dancer have been questioned time and time again because of this — so she doesn’t feel intimidated by them, considering she knows she could go toe-to-toe with them in a smattering of physical activities. Running wasn’t her strong suit, but a decent amount of cardio was required to maintain the appearance of keeping it together during longer performances, while the muscles of her arms, back, and legs were chiseled from years of nearly daily practice. 

But when Harry walks in, she assumes this is some kind of prank. Mrs. Lei would never be put up to something like that (she’s a woman with decorum), but maybe the hockey team somehow caught wind of the class and wanted to torture her, just like Harry’s been doing for the past three years. 

She stomps over to him the second he crosses the entryway, grabbing his wrist and pulling him back outside.

“No,” she says immediately, dropping his arm like it’s poisonous, “Get out.”

“What?”

“Get out.” she repeats through gritted teeth. “This isn’t funny. You can’t fuck with me when I’m doing something like this.”

Harry’s eyebrows furrow and he seems to look genuinely confused. It’s only then that he cocks his head to the side, a smirk threatening to curl at the edges of his lips. “Cinderella, did no one tell you who this class is for?”

She shrugs her shoulders and crosses her arms over her chest. Y/N doesn’t like being taken by surprise, let alone other people knowing she’s out of the loop.

Harry damn near chortles in response as the smirk grows into a wicked grin. “Oh, sweetheart. You signed up to teach the hockey team yoga.”

Once Harry gets his boyish laughter out of the way, Y/N makes quick work of changing the rundown of the class. She moves her yoga mat all the way to the back in fear of having 15 hockey players stare at her ass the entire time, instructing them to watch her in the mirror or raise their hand if they need help getting into a certain position. She lowers the lights and puts some soothing music on to tune out any teasing laughter, but it already seems like they’re taking it seriously based on the way most of them are already in cross-legged positions, allowing their eyes to fall closed. It eases Y/N’s nerves some, until she looks over at Harry, who’s sitting there with his legs straight out like a toddler, a goofy smile on his lips.

With a roll of her eyes, she begins the class.

. . .

“This one might be a little tough so let me know if you need some help, but we’re gonna shift into a reclined pigeon pose now,” Y/N instructs, “With your back flat against the mat, bend your knees. Good. Now, with one knee still bent, we’re going to create a figure 4 by crossing the right ankle over the top of the left knee.”

She gives them some time to process, standing from her own mat to ensure no one’s desperately flopping around. 

“Great,” she praises, “This is excellent for opening your hip flexors, thighs, and chest. Make sure you’re breathing into the pose.”

She hears a chorus of deep exhales and it makes her smile. Not only is she glad that they’re actually taking it seriously (there’s a possibility she judged them all a bit too hard), but there’s something about having some sort of power over the team that strokes her ego, too. 

She weaves in and out between the mats, continuing to encourage them to breathe and stretch deeper. When she passes by Harry, who’s doing the pose a bit wrong, she resists the urge to simply kick him. 

Instead she quietly gets down on her knees, “Do you need help adjusting?”

Harry’s eyes flicker open. Instantly, he has a scowl on his face. So much for relaxation. “Why?”

“Your ankle bone should be pressing into your thigh,” she whispers, pointing to where his ankle is just barely grazing the edge of his leg, “If you deepen the pose, it’ll help with any stress you’re feeling in your hips and thighs.”

He huffs, clearly contemplating her offer, before rolling his eyes and mumbling out, “sure.”

She wants to tell him that touching him certainly isn’t at the top of her to-do list today, but she doesn’t want to disrupt the rest of the class. With her knees pressing into the surface of his yoga mat, she sits in front of him, gently grasping his right calf and shifting it to the side. 

“What the fuck, Cinderella?!” he whisper-yells, nails clawing into the thick foam he’s laying on. Y/N shushes him and sends an irritated glare his way. “That hurts!”

“Probably because your hips are tight as fuck.” she mutters. “How do you walk around like this all day?”

“I don’t know, you try being a goalie—”

“Shut the fuck up,” she whispers under her breath. She hates that argument, where people automatically assume that ballet is some pretty artform that requires minimal effort. It was gorgeous, but the amount of painful injuries Y/N’s sustained from the sport would send Harry into a tizzy. 

It’s clear that he’s not bending any deeper into the pose so Y/N stands up, deciding to finish up the class instead of focusing all of her attention on Harry and his fucked up hips. She keeps them on the floor for the remainder of their time, having them do light twists and stretches, finally closing out class with some positive self-affirmations. When 6:45 pm ticks by, she slowly turns on the lights and stands by the door. They’re all very polite, thanking her graciously for spending her evening with them. It’s almost enough to make her feel pure happiness until Harry, the last to leave, stops in front of her. 

“What?” she asks, crossing her arms defensively. 

“Can you shut the door?” 

Y/N squints her eyes at him. “No?”

“I have a question and I don’t want anyone to hear it.”

“I swear to god, if you ask me to jerk you off or something, I will punch you so hard in the dick—”

“Oh, shut up,” Harry mutters, “That’s why puck bunnies exist, asshole.”

Y/N’s stomach tightens, though she’s not exactly sure why. Every sports team had some form of groupies with “puck bunnies” being the name of the ones for the hockey team. It seemed somewhat derogatory to her, but it didn’t seem like the girls held much of an issue with it.

“Sounds gross.” she finally replies, her face twisting into an expression of disgust. 

“Well it’s not like we all share them, the girls have their biases—”

“Is this what you wanted to ask me about?”

Harry’s eyes dart to the door and she sighs, closing it gently. Annoyed, she motions for him to say whatever it is he needs to say.

“Goalies have to wear, like, a shit ton of stuff on the ice and I hardly ever stretch after a game—”

“That’s awful for you, Harry.”

He shoots her an angry look. 

“So, yeah, my hips are fucked. And they hurt really fucking bad.”

“Start stretching after games, then?” Y/N replies as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Yeah… that’s kind of the idea,” he says slowly, “Do you have, like… other… yoga poses that you know of? That would be good for that type of thing?”

Y/N thinks for a moment. It’s something she has to do before and after performances or practices, too, since a number of moves and jumps rely on the joint movement in her hips. From an athlete-to-athlete standpoint, she gets it. In fact, she almost pities him, because the pain must be awful.

“Yes,” she eventually says with a nod. “There’s a lot. If it helps, I can put together a little guide for you and text it to you.”

Harry raises his eyebrows. “Really? You would do that?”

She shrugs. “You must be hurting badly to ask for my help.”

He scoffs, digging into the pocket of his athletic shorts for his phone. He pulls it out, bringing up his contact page. “You have no idea.”

She hums as she quickly types her number in. For the contact name, she always puts emojis in so people don’t forget who she is. She settles on Y/N🌷🩰🍒. When she hands it back to him, he snorts. 

“What?” 

“Those emojis definitely aren’t staying.” he replies with a roll of his eyes. 

“Why?” she asks with a slightly pouty bottom lip. 

“Because emojis are childish and I don’t put them next to anyone’s name?” 

She balks at his criticism as she slides her shoes on. 

“That’s mean. I put emojis next to everyone’s name on my phone.”

Harry snorts, “Yeah? What are you gonna put next to mine, then?”

It doesn’t take her more than a second to decide: “The devil horns, probably.”

He cackles as he opens the door to the studio with a shake of his head. 

“Wouldn’t want it any other way, princess,” he calls out as he walks down the hallway. 

[astrophileblogs07]

Astro Observations pt.21

Back with some very random Astro observations 😁

⚫ Saturn aspecting the 7th house actually can dislike 9 to 5 jobs or corporate office jobs. They are better with freelancing. Its coz they can't take orders. Sorry not sorry. 💀(Ig that's a Saturn 7H thing 😆)

⚫ An interesting thing I observed: Among two siblings, the elder one has Leo rising which means Scorpio 4H and the younger one has Scorpio moon. And their Mom is a Scorpio moon too. She's a nice lady though but is such a control freak. (I know I am one too, but like when I met her the second time that "controlling" vibe just hit me like a big yellow school bus 🚌😭😭). That was so funny lol😂. -All the more her birthdate is a single digit 1.(these people are the alpha type, always lead and never follow and hence are dominating, one to have the last say) which is cherry on top. -She is fiercely protective of her kids. Can't emphasize enough on "fierce" part. Very strict. Rules are to be followed very religiously. {She can't stand any one of them doing anything without her knowledge. She even monitors whom they interact with what they do on their mobiles etc.(from what I suspect)} (obv Scorpio moon mom traits) (sometimes Leo moon moms too){nothing unhealthy here, just Mom's way of showing they care 😂}

⚫Saturn and Workout: -Workout 🏋️‍♀️requires CONSISTENCY. Saturn LOVES consistency. -In fact the best remedy for Saturn is sweating. JUST SWEAT by hard work. No matter what it maybe: workout, walking, jobs, cardio, sports etc. 🤸‍♀️🚴‍♀️🏋️‍♀️

⚫ Whilst on the topic of Saturn, people who follow a time table for literally everything the planet doesn't harm them much during its Dasha (even if its your worst one). I mean obviously you played by the rules 🤷‍♀️

⚫ Magha is the only nakshatra for which you don't need in depth compatibility match. They get along with everyone.

⚫Scorpio Venuses/8H Venuses are paranoid. They notice and suspect everything (sometimes things which are not there/imaginary). (For eg, me, who thinks that someone is peeping thru my curtains even when nobody is there and all my curtains cover my windows properly. 🤣).

⚫Also as a basic Scorpio Venus behavior: while writing chats/texting, I always think- "what if someone else reads it?"..so I just don't give much details in texts. (Gosh, sometimes I think somethings wrong with me 😭😭)

⚫The proven way to hurt a Leo moon: compare them with any other person and tell them that the person is wayy better in a certain thing esp if it's a triat that the Leo is proud of. 🤣 (P.S don't do that, its mean and the Leo will hunt you, which you don't want 😀.)

⚫Why do Aries moon men have a bunch of good friends for life and Aries moon women struggle with having at least one good genuine female friend for life? (I'm jealous)

⚫ Maybe its becoz they get along more with guys than gals so the girls are jealous of them...so hence no good female friends. 😢🤡 Aries moons are the best-est people for friendships you'll ever get.

⚫ People born on a Saturday look melancholic.

⚫ You can NEVER mislead a Leo rising. They study litreally everything: what you say what you do, and why you do so. Similar to Scorpios

⚫If you see a person having graceful and "royal" way of walking or behaving, they're are sure shot to have a Magha Ascendant.

⚫Connecting the dots here: as I said in one of my previous posts that Maghas get framed even when they have done nothing, what I interpreted is that Maghas are actually the definition of royalty. They literally have that ✨grace✨, that kinda magnanimous personality and similar struggles to a monarch. Totally King/Queen typa energy here. So with that, the usual consequences in a Kingdom is conspiracy against the king, which the Maghas face. (Enough with Maghas ig, started observing them recently so..✌🏻💀)

That's it for today, until next time! (like,comment and reblog loveliesss❤❤😘)

[solar-wing]

⚣ Protective Lover 🥰

⚣✋🏻 A/N → Another idea partly inspired off one of my previous Jason posts. Dude is the definition of scary dog privilege. "and my man, thank you to my man." WARNINGS: Jealous/Possessive Behavior. Minor Swearing and Threats of Violence. Cute Fluff.

⚣✋🏻 Summary → It's no secret: Jason is a jealous and possessive boyfriend. But, many don't think about the benefit that comes along with that. He's hella protective. Sometimes it's overbearing, other times, it's very helpful.

⚣✋🏻 Words → 1.4k

REBLOGS and replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY 🥰

At some point, Y/N had gotten used to it. Was it annoying? Yes. Did it feel overbearing at times? Countless. Did he secretly love it and felt the world’s most (concerning) validation from it? Absolutely.

But, when looking at the situation and its circumstances as a whole, it made sense.

When he and Jason first started dating, there was definitely a vibe of him being a gruff but soft teddy bear who was clingy and needy for love and attention when with his chosen lover. But, when around literally anyone else who was not said lover or other people were in the same room as his chosen mate, he’d turn into the world’s scariest guard dog.

It was the general rule of Scary Boyfriend Privilege. Only the designated boyfriend could see their boyfriend’s soft and needy side. Anyone outside that got the ‘murderous if you get too close’ grizzly bear side.

Extremely hot and sexy, but it could be a bit (a lot) much at times. 

Y/N tried to get Jason to calm down, always showing that he could take care of himself and there was no reason for him to worry. But, living in a city like Gotham and given the vigilante’s past (hence the aforementioned situation and circumstances), there really was no calming him down.

But let’s look on the bright side here. With said privilege and the kind of boyfriend Jason was, Y/N never felt more safe and secure in his life. It was like walking around a video game world with the most overpowered gear on. He was basically untouchable.

Examples? Why, of course!

When it came to school, Y/N always preferred studying and doing his homework with Jason since he would help him stay focused and assist him with subjects that he struggled with. 

Y/N was not the first but certainly the loudest to say that Jason did not get enough credit for how smart he was. Yeah, he typically lived by street smarts, but he was big on book smarts as well. He just had to learn how to communicate the information in ways where it wasn’t confusing for both him and his boyfriend.

Plus, in dating Y/N, he learned the art and benefits of positive reinforcement which anyone could probably imagine taking a magnifying glass to their relationship, it was something the Y/N had to use a lot for Jason. Now, the vigilante was doing the same for his boyfriend by giving him little rewards for finishing his work and getting good grades like take-out dates, letting him play in his hair, and more often than not, a good dic-

PAUSE

Oh for fucks sake, are we doing this again? Why does it have to be PG-13? Well, no one said– Ugh…Fine.

A good fitness workout that involved lots of cardio, sweating, and soreness, but the good kind.

Happy?

But, the week of midterms turned out to be an equally busy week for Jason as well. He was knee-deep in a big crime plot and was getting closer and closer to solving the case. Y/N understood and didn’t want to get in the way of his boyfriend's duties. It still sucked though because it meant he wouldn’t be able to study in his apartment as he’d find way too many ways to get distracted. So, he had no choice but to study on campus, and figured what better place than the library?

Turns out there could have been better places.

Y/N was sitting at a large table by himself with various books in front of him along with his tablet and laptop reviewing his notes for a huge test he had the next morning. He wasn’t the only one who had the idea of going to the library to study as it was packed full of students trying to do last-minute cramming and studying.

Jason, as usual, called him to make sure he was okay and that he had gotten to the library safely even though Y/N was well aware his boyfriend had many different ways of tracking him and making sure he was where he was supposed to be. At first, he found it creepy, but when he got to know Jason’s family, he understood.

When Jason didn’t hang up the phone long after Y/N had already sat down and began reviewing, he decided he wasn’t going to hang up either, feeling more relaxed and calm while hearing his boyfriend’s voice and breathing through his earphones.

Now and then, Jason would call his name and check to make sure he was focusing and not slacking off or scrolling on social media and Y/N would turn and scold him for trying to check him when he should have been focused on fighting criminals.

“That’s the thing, babe. I can focus on more than two tasks at the same time. You, on the other hand, still can’t manage to focus on one task for more than 10 minutes without getting distracted by something else like your favorite song and flooding our apartment.”

“I told you to let the bathtub thing go!” Y/N whispered loudly into his earbud mic with a goofy smile on his face still.

“I will never let the bathtub thing go.”

They continued their playful back and forth while Y/N continued studying until he was interrupted by another student, a guy from one of his history classes. This guy was more or less a bit annoying and creepy and had been bothering Y/N for a while with his persistent quest to ask him out.

No matter how many times he rejected him, the guy always tried again and again. He never got forceful, or at least he never had the chance since Y/N always made sure there were people around or that he got to an area where other people were nearby just in case he tried something.

He wasn’t judging him, but he took Jason’s words and lessons very seriously when it came to his safety. He’d seen enough of his boyfriend’s cases where people didn’t take the necessary steps to keep themselves protected and safe because they didn’t imagine it would ‘go that far.’

The creep only left him alone when he saw Jason was with him. Truthfully, many people tended to steer clear of Y/N and his massively scary boyfriend whenever he was with them on campus besides his friends. They were even put off by Jason at times whenever they hung out with their friend cause they’d catch him at times giving them weird looks and glares if they touched or just got too close to his boyfriend for his liking.

Plus, after the one incident of the guy who tried to pick a fight with Y/N and pushed him, thus having to deal with Jason in the aftermath, everyone learned it was just better to steer clear.

So, when Jason wasn’t anywhere in sight, Y/N’s creepy stalker saw it as a perfect moment for him to try and make a move on his classmate, not expecting the very person he was hoping to avoid being on the phone the entire time.

It wasn’t until he saw Y/N unplug his earphones and hand him his phone that he realized he was indeed on a call, and after receiving possibly the most violently worded threat he had ever heard he decided there were plenty of other fish in the sea.

He handed the phone over to its owner before scurrying off like a scared mouse, Y/N watching with a confused but also amused and relieved look.

“Hi baby,” Jason immediately responded to Y/N’s ‘hello’ in his little delightful and excited tone whenever he heard his boyfriend’s voice.

“Jason, what did you say to him?” Y/N immediately asked.

“Hey! It’s babe, baby, sexy, honey, or Jay at the slightest to you, mister. Only my family calls me that.”

“Jason…”

“Babeee, stop it! I don’t consent to this treatment. No means no!” Jason protested in a whiny voice.

“You’re such a baby,” Y/N chuckled.

“Only for you, hot stuff. But we’ll be having a long talk when I get home about you not telling me about creepy guys bothering you.”

“How did you know?”

“Babe, you know who you’re dating, right? There never will be something that bothers you that I won’t know about. I’m always gonna protect you, even if it annoys the hell out of you.”

Y/N couldn’t stop the big smile spreading across his face at his boyfriend’s words, knowing he meant every single one. Jason would always be his protective lover.

☀️ | Jason Todd/Red Hood | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

[goosewithtwoos]

TOO SWEET

pairing: bob x reader

summary: bobs just too sweet

“You’re just,” you struggle to find the right words. “too sweet.”

Bob furrows his brow. “Too sweet?” He asks, placing down his tea.

“Yeah, that’s you’re problem. You’re too sweet. You let people walk over you. You need to have a bit of a backbone if you want to be respected.” You explain.

The two of you were sitting in his living room, having just come back from a morning run. You hated cardio - weight lifting was a much better workout in your opinion - but Bob was a runner and had wanted you to join him for a run for so long you finally gave in.

His Naval Academy shirt was faded in stark contrast to his blue PT shorts. You’d never be caught dead in PT uniform outside of the work day but somehow he made it work.

During the run, he had been explaining how this new command was trying to keep him from hops and began training him as an unmanned aircraft system operator. Of course, it was nice to have this extra knowledge but he was a WSO and should be treated as such. He talked for most of the run, mainly because you couldn’t speak for more than three sentences without getting winded, so now was your time to offer advice.

“There’s nothing wrong with being firm.” You sip your now lukewarm coffee, making a flippant gesture with your hand.

Bob shifted in his seat. “I don’t want to seem belligerent. It is a good opportunity.”

“But it’s keeping you from your primary job.” You roll your eyes. “Come on, Bobby, you don’t actually want to be some drone operator, do you?”

His eyes dipped. “No.”

“There you go!” You exclaim. “Tell them that. Exactly like that. You want to be a WSO. You’re amazing at your job anyways, they’d be stupid to keep you from it.”

A light dust of pink began to cover Bobs’ cheeks. You knew he had a hard time receiving compliments and always tried to brush them off. Your current attempts at getting him to accept compliments was exposure therapy and you tried to interject as many as possible during your conversations.

“I’m not that good…” He mumbles into his tea as he takes another sip.

You snap your fingers at him, shaking your head. “This is what I mean. You’re letting people get into your head. Take the compliment.” He dipped his head lower, taking another lengthy sip to avoid speaking. “This is where you say, ‘You’re right’ and ‘Thank you, I know I’m amazing’.”

“I can’t say that if it’s not true.”

You couldn’t tell if you wanted to kill him or squish him. He was so adorable and yet made you want to pull your hair out. It was quite a confusing mix.

“Robert. For once, if you’ve ever loved me, take the compliment.” You say, placing down your cup.

He shrugs a little which makes you gasp in mock horror before he smiles. “Of course I love you but it’s just hard to accept.”

You shrink back in your seat, crossing your legs. “Who hurt you?” You mumble more to yourself than to him. “Have you ever taken a compliment?”

“Of course!” He cries.

You raise a brow. “Three examples, now.”

“One, when I received my acceptance to the Academy and had my college counselor beaming with pride. She told me I had done well.” He looked proud of himself remembering that one. “Two, when I graduated and my grandmother came to see me, she said that I was the smartest in the family. And three, when I-“ His voice cut off and his ears went red.

“When?” You press, leaning forward ever so slightly.

He waves you off. “Let me think of something else. It was a bad example.”

“No, no, no,” you push. “Tell me.”

He turned away, unable to meet your eyes. “When I…I went…” his voice was growing smaller by the second. He covers his mouth with the back of his hand ever so slightly before finishing the statement. “on a girl and she called me a good boy.”

You couldn’t stop the laughter that came out of you. You’d never assumed Bob would have a praise kink, and especially not one that consisted of him being called a good boy.

“I’m sorry.” You weren’t. “I just wasn’t expecting that.”

Bob was completely red by this point, opting to drink his tea rather than respond.

“I mean, were you being a good boy?” He chokes.

Sputtering, he looks at you, eyes full of panic. “I can’t answer that!”

“Oh, come on, you can tell me. I told you about my…incidents.” Incidents was a polite way to put it. Bob was the first person you’d go to whenever something had gone awry during on of your hookups due to his understanding and nonjudgmental nature. No matter what you’d say, he’d listen and nod, telling you it was always the mans fault and even though you might have called him someone else’s name, it was his problem for not having a more memorable name.

“I think I was.” He says quietly, shrugging ever so slightly.

“I bet you were.” You hum, finishing off your coffee.

Bob just stares, eyes wide and lips slightly apart. His breath hitched as he tried to form a coherent sentence. A sound that slightly resembles “Huh?” come from him and you roll your eyes.

“You’re always such a good boy, Bobby.” You mean it as a joke. You were saying it in a slightly mocking tone. So why did the words feel so right? Why were they so smooth on your lips? And why - God, why - did they seem to have such an impact on both you and him?

Something changed in his eyes. They glossed over with a feeling you didn’t think you’d ever see in him. Desire. Need.

“Say it again.” It wasn’t a question, he was demanding. Damn his pretty blue eyes.

You swallow hard. This had implications. You could tell how badly he needed it and what it was doing to him. You didn’t want to just fuck with his emotions. But you did mean it. He was a good boy. He’d always helped you with reports and post-flight write ups. He always went out of his way to make sure you were okay. He was such a good boy.

“You’re a good boy.”

His breath was coming out a bit harder now, and his hands had curled into fists like he was trying to keep himself from reaching out and touching you. Not like that would have been a bad thing.

“Can…” His voice failed him. He tried again. “Can I show you?”

“Show me how you’re a good boy?” You ask. Your heart was starting to race. You’d never seen this side of him before. He nods fervently. “Okay.”

It was barely a whisper. You weren’t even sure if a sound came out or you’d just mouthed the words but once you’d said them, that was all he needed.

He grabs you by the back of the head, tangling his fingers through your hair, and pulls you into a lip bruising kiss. This was definitely not sweet. This was needy, urgent, like he wanted to devour you. You kissed back, allowing yourself to melt into him. He was taking and you’d give him everything.

He leaned farther into you, pressing you backwards until you were laying on the couch. He was over you, pressing all his body weight down, and you could feel what suspiciously felt like him grinding against your thigh.

Your arms wrap around the back of his neck, pulling him closer. Your hips buck up, desperately trying to chase the friction against him.

His glasses felt cold against your skin and you smiled ever so slightly.

He moans into your mouth and pulls a hand from your hair down to your chest. Your hands grip into his shirt as he paws at you, feeling your ribs, waist, hips, anything he can get his hands on.

“Need to taste you.” He groans out, like it was paining him not to be nose deep within you. “Bet you taste so good.”

You’d never seen a man so worked up before. Bob was panting like he was in heat. And it was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

“I’m still sweaty.” You say between a laugh. He moved down to your neck, nipping at the soft skin, finding any open area and leaving a mark. He groans, pressing himself down against your thigh again.

“Bet it just makes you taste better.”

Your mind was short circuiting. Was this really the same Bob who once cried while watching a nature documentary because a penguin carried around a rock instead of an egg? The same Bob who called you when he got drunk to confess that he’d once stolen a phone charger from some gas station during a cross country trip when he’d lost his wallet at a Waffle House? Somehow, it was.

And this same Bob was pushing your shirt up and pulling your shorts down.

He looks up at you and it was a sight to behold. His mouth was slightly ajar, and his pupils blown completely wide.

“Hold these?” He asks, taking off his glasses and passing them up to you. You put them on, more as a joke than anything, but the moment he saw you wearing them, he surges forwards and kisses you again.

“So pretty.” He moans. “God, you’re gorgeous.”

You would normally feel self conscious but something about him made you feel so safe and secure. You trusted him with everything. He really was -

“Such a good boy.” You murmur as he began sliding down your body again. He stops, dropping his head so his forehead presses against your lower abdomen.

“Again.” He whispers. You could feel his breath tickling ever so slightly.

“Fuck, Robert, you’re such a good boy.” Your hand runs through his hair, pulling slightly before letting go.

He lets out a whimper before getting back to the task at hand, removing your shorts entirely, leaving you in just your underwear with your shirt pushed all the way up. He finds his place between your thighs, throwing your legs over his shoulders. It probably wasn’t the most comfortable position for him but in that moment, you were sure he couldn’t care less.

He licks you through your panties, moaning when your legs tense around his head.

“Please.” You moan when his tongue presses especially well against your clit. “Need you so bad.”

He eyes flit up to yours again, his glasses having fallen partially down your face so you could see just over the rims, and it was a miracle you didn’t come right then and there.

Feral, a man possessed.

He doesn’t even bother taking them off properly, he just pulls your panties to the side and dives in.

It was good. God, it was so fucking good. Your hand finds his hair again, pulling him impossibly closer to you. It was like he knew your body better than you did, the way he could alternate between fucking you with his tongue to sucking on your clit.

“Fuck, Robert,” you cry out. “You’re such a good boy. Oh my God, so good. Such a good boy, holy shit.” You were babbling at this point, the words didn’t make much sense in your mind but your mouth just kept moving. “My sweet boy, my good boy, fuck honey, you’re amazing.”

He pulls away and you want to cry. He presses kisses against your thigh while you try to remember how to breath properly.

“You taste so good. Wanna keep you here forever so I can have this forever.” He says.

You nod in agreement. “Please. You can. Anytime you want.”

His groan sends vibrations through you. You’re mind is a daze. Your hand cups his cheek, gently rubbing the side of his face. His stubble feels rough under your skin but the coarseness only makes your heart swell more.

“Gonna make me come like a good boy?” You ask, voice barely a whisper.

He responds by diving back in, tongue licking up your slit, collecting your wetness on his lips. Your back arches again, hips bucking. His glasses begin to slip off but your mind can’t care about anything other than the man who’s head is currently between your legs, showing you more pleasure than any man has shown you before.

He wraps his arm around so that his hands are free and you can feel his biceps tensing under your legs. The thought of his muscles had never turned you on before but suddenly, it caused a rush of heat to shoot through you.

His thumb comes down to play with your clit while his mouth still works your slit. The light teasing circles from his finger was such a different feeling from how his relentless and eager tongue was bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

You could feel that cool in your stomach tightening. Your hips were bucking more frequently and when you felt his index finger run across your folds, you knew you were a goner.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Robert, please.” You moan.

“You don’t gotta beg.” He tells you, resting his head on your thigh for a moment, taking you in. His fingers were still working you, keeping you right on the edge. “I’ll give you everything you need.” His accent was thicker than normal and you wanted to see just how deep it could get. Another time though, you didn’t want any distractions from this current event.

When his mouth connects with your clit, you swear it was a religious experience, and you were coming before you even realized it.

“Good boy, good boy, good boy.” You keep repeating as he works you down from your high. Finally, once he deems you to be clean enough, he lifts his head, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Do you uh…do you want anything for yourself?”

He looks to the side sheepishly. “I’m…good.” You sit up quickly and look at him. A wet spot stains his crotch just barely visible in his PT shorts. The thought of him coming just from eating you out sends another wave through you.

Perhaps a five minute intermission before round two wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

[drmaddict]

Patchwork

Summary: Henry becomes a father... Just not how he thought it would happen.

Word count: 2.160

Warnings: mentions of domestic violence, lots of fluff

"Six?"

"Six."

"Six children?"

"Well not biologically, but.... yes."

(Y/n) looked uncertainly at Henry. The blue eyes stared at her in disbelief.

"You have six children living in your house?"

She sighed. That was always the point at which every guy ran away.

"I understand if that's too much for you," she began. 

Henry shook his head still in disbelief, but grinned. "Do you ever sleep, or do you just get used to  sleep deprivation?"

She smiled cautiously. Didn't trust the peace yet, though. "To be honest there are two kids one 9 and one 12 and four pubescent teenagers."

He regarded her quietly across the restaurant table. "Are you okay?" he asked, "Did I say something wrong? I know my reaction may have been a little surprised, but I didn't mean to cut you in."

She relaxed a little. "It's just... Most guys run away as soon as they hear that, and that would really be .... a shame."

Henry smiled and shook his head. "I don't run away. I hate cardio."

That made her smile.

"But you'll still have to tell me how you get to adopt six children and teenagers.... And that as a single woman in her mid-twenties."

"It's like cats. Somehow I guess it doesn't stay with just one." She tipped her wine glass. "The first one was Jason. He was the son of my neighbors at the time and would come by my apartment every so often in the afternoon until his mother got home. One night he showed up at my door bleeding. His father caught him with make up and beat him black and blue. It took a while, but then he could move in with me. He's graduating from high school this summer. He has even been accepted to a make up school. He wants to go into film as a makeup artist." She smiled softly. "He's come a long way."

Henry curtsied in shock at the story. "Fatima is 16 and has been disowned by her family for not being a virgin. She has ambitions to study law. I don't think anyone will stop her from going to Oxford. Mike is almost 16 - next week - and grew up without a father and even though his mother tried everything, she has high level schizophrenia. She has been institutionalized and now lives in care. We visit her whenever her condition allows it. Mini - Emilia ran away at some point. We don't really know what happened. She is 14. Kamon is 12 and comes from a refugee family. His parents have been sent back to Thailand. We are trying to get a visa for them. Until then, I'm kind of his foster family. He and Mike are not officially adopted. Both love their family and do everything for them, even if they can't always be there. And Lilly. She is 9. Her family died in a car accident. No family member has been found."

She was silent for a moment and continued to contemplate her wine before looking up and looking at Henry.

"Henry... I understand if this is too much, but.... they've all been through enough in their lives and every single one of them has their reasons for making it hard for new people in our family. So if, against all odds, you say yes to this circus, know that it's not so easy to get out of it either." Her gaze became insistent. "If you leave me, that's one thing, but I won't do that to the kids."

Henry, who hadn't said anything all this time, took one deep breath and reached for her hand lying on the table. He smiled. "If they're willing to meet me, so am I."

Henry stood in front of a gigantic house. His house was already big, but this one surpassed it. Despite its size, however, it didn't seem ostentatious. It looked cozy and inviting. The word 'home' popped into his head.

Shouts and frantic footsteps sounded from inside. 

He pressed his thumb on the doorbell. Immediately, everything went silent.

The door opened with a jerk. A dark-skinned boy stood before him, beaming at him. From the colored eyeliner, he concluded that it must be Jason.

"Hello Mr. Cavill." he said in a noticeably loud voice.

Immediately, frantic footsteps sounded and he saw scattered bodies running through the background.

"Hi. Henry will do." he smiled.

"Come on in. I'm Jason. Ehhm... (Y/n) isn't here yet.... Mike had... They had to go to the hospital."

"Is he okay?"

Jason shrugged. "Normally, he is. Boxer you know... Tea?"

"Gladly."

He stepped into the house. It was swept as if empty, yet the traces of life could be seen in it. Self-painted pictures. Photographs. Various equipment for hobbies. Shoes in different sizes. And that was just the hallway. Henry let himself be led into the kitchen and sat down on one of the chairs. None matched the other.

"Mike had a match this morning. (Y/n) said he's already patched up. They're already on their way here."

Henry smiled. "With something like this, you should take your time."

Jason set the steaming cup down for him and sat with him.

Henry accepted it gratefully. "It's very quiet."

"Be glad." was all he said, sipping his tea. "I don't want to chase you away, but it's like human history here. The periods of absolute peace are relatively negligible." He ran his index finger over the rim of his cup and grinned. "And I'm one of the worst divas here. Just a warning."

The front door opened and a rumble sounded, followed by an amused giggle. "Sorry about that." a boy's slurred voice rang out.

"That's okay big guy. Come on off to bed." he heard (y/n).

"I'm fine!"

"That's because they drugged your ass off so you can't feel your face."

"Where's Ammy?"

"Mike you need to rest now. You can call Amber when you're in bed."

"Who are you?" A blond boy in a gray sweatshirt and swollen face looked at him from the doorway, aghast. "Who's that?" he turned to (Y/n).

"A friend Mike. That's a friend. Jason stop filming him!"

Still grinning, Jason put the phone away and turned to Henry. "Welcome."

"What's the dog's name?", Kamon asked him.

"That's Kal...like Superman." he smiled at the shy boy.

"I like Batman."

Henry rolled his eyes playfully. "Oh yeah, why?"

"Batman watches out for kids nobody else wants. Like (y/n)."

Henry smiled.

"I told you not to rummage through my things!" yelled Emilia down the hall.

Henry and (Y/n) sat in the garden each holding a book.

"I wasn't rummaging. I was getting MY eyeshadow, that you stole from MY room!" shouted back Jason. "It's not my fault you leave your lovey-dovey fanfictions lying around in the open like that!"

"You have no business in my room!"

"That being said - Tom Holland? Really?"

A splintering sound rang out.

"I guess that was the vase, then," (Y/n) sighed.

"I would have thought she was more of a Sebastian Stan type," Henry reflected loudly.

"How long has she been sitting there?" whispered Henry to (Y/n).

"Since this morning. She hasn't looked up from that book in five hours."

Fatima sat at the large parlor table surrounded by books, writing notes and index cards.

"That's impressive. Scary, but impressive."

Kal walked over to the table and nudged her.

"I have to study! Sit!" Kal obeyed immediately and sat next to her chair.

"She'd make a good drill sergeant," Henry grinned.

(Y/n) sipped her coffee. "You've never seen her in exam stress."

"This isn't exam stress?"

"This is relaxed studying."

Henry looked in shock at the girl with noise cancelling headphones. (Y/n) grinned into her cup.

 "They need more glitter!" determined Lilly.

Henry reached for the can of edible glitter and sprinkled more of it on the unicorn cookies.

"Like this?"

The little girl looked thoughtfully at the tin. "Like this."

Henry bowed theatrically and slid the tin into the oven. "All for your majesty." The girl giggled.

(Y/n) just watched with a smile.

Jason and Mike sat on the sofa grinning together at a tablet, each with headphones in their ears.

This wasn't normal. Even Henry knew that by now. He wondered if they were both watching porn. He'd been that age once, too. He knew what that was like.

(Y/n) came into the living room and looked over there shoulders at the two of them. She laughed uncontrollably grunting, but immediately suppressed it and came over to him.

No porn, he concluded.

"What about these two?" asked Henry, pulling her to him on the sofa and onto his lap.

"Just a movie," she grinned.

"What movie?"

She continued to shake her head with a grin and waved it off. Henry was very reluctant to be shut out. So he sat (y/n) down next to him on the sofa and stood behind the two teenagers. When he saw his younger self in a black hoodie grinning and holding up a tarot card, he groaned in annoyance.

The boys snorted indignantly. Henry looked defiantly at the display.

"Oh come on Sweet Cheeks! What's wrong?" asked (Y/n) with a laugh.

He looked at her with an intensity that promised she would pay for this yet. She could hardly wait.

"What's with the hair?" laughed Jason.

"It was in back then!"

Henry stood in the kitchen making coffee while there was the familiar bustle around him. Kamon couldn't find his second shoe, Lilly needed a certain T-shirt, Jason occupied the bathroom, Mike shoveled eggs into his mouth, Fatima just drank the coffee straight out of the pot, and Emilia hid behind a book.

He could hardly believe that over a year should have passed already.

They had grown close to his heart. He didn't want to miss the chaos at all. The last time he left for a job, it seemed almost eerie how quiet it was that night. He had told (y/n) about it over Skype. She'd just grinned and said those feelings liked to sneak up on one.

"Do you think they want me in their life?" he had asked her uncertainly.

She had only smiled. "Wait a minute." She disappeared and came back a moment later with a piece of paper. She held it up to the camera. "Lilly drew this for you today." It showed eight roughly drawn people. Under each one, in capital letters, was the name.... except for (y/n) and him. It just said Mum and Paps. Henry stared wide-eyed at the screen. "Please act surprised when you come back. It's supposed to be a gift.", she put the paper back down. "Are you crying?"

Henry had remained silent. He had only nodded.

He smiled at the memory. The picture hung framed in the hallway. It had become Henry's favorite picture.

"Car one go!", (y/n) called down the stairs.

The three mismatched teens got up from the table and walked to (y/n)s car.

Henry packed the last of the snacks into Lilly and Kamon's lunchboxes before he, too, packed them into his cat and drove them to school. Jason had a little break from make up school and stayed at home.

Henry came back earlier than (y/n). He waited patiently for her in the kitchen. Looked at the mismatched chairs and the photos on the wall. Photos that now included him. (Y/n) came shortly after him and dropped into her usual seat next to him. She reached for the waiting cup of coffee and dropped her head on his shoulder. "How did I do this alone before?"

Henry laughed.

"I mean it. Don't you dare leave! I can't take it anymore!"

Henry just smiled at her. He got up from his chair and knelt down in front of her. He pulled a small box out of his pocket and held it in front of him. "I wouldn't want to spend the rest of my life anywhere but with you and the kids. (Y/n) will you marry me?"

She looked at him with shocked eyes. "Are you sure?"

He nodded with a smile. "I want to take Lilly to her dance lessons. I want to be there when Jason gets his first jobs. I want to see Fatima come top of her year at Oxford - in law AND medicine." They both laughed. "I want to cheer Mike on in his competitions. I want to watch Emilia find the romance she secretly wants. I even want my heart to break when Kamon is reunited with his parents. I want to be with you. I want to be with the children. I don't want to run away. I want to be part of this family."

"You already are," she smiled, crying. She pulled him close and kissed him.

"Does that mean yes?" he grinned.

"Yes you idiot." she laughed.

[korlkorl]

jack howl likes a routine, you decided to add some spice to it 💥

+ my boy jack does not get enough love im tweaking so bad i had to write my own

jack howl, first year of savanclaw dorm, wakes up at 5am every morning, sharp. he works out, goes down for breakfast and heads to class energized and ready to learn. afterschool, he’d run a few laps around the track before going back and doing his homework. before bed, he’d do at-home cardio and organize his things before resting early. leona pats him on the back for sleeping early. he thinks jack is the finest of all savanaclaw men; everyone else is too rowdy. leona likes his sleep.

you’ve been interested in jack for a while. but as someone who isn’t as strict about routine as he is, you find it difficult to catch up on his schedule. so you’ve been seeing him less. although you had your suspicions that jack might feel the same, you started to doubt yourself now. he wasn’t looking for you, no, and was sticking to his routine like every other day.

the only thing that remained the same between you two is that everyday, afterschool, without fail, you’d come and sit on the bleachers and watch jack run some laps. you’d feel the warm breeze across your face, or shiver under the cold weather. how does he survive being in shorts all the time?!

it wasn’t like you and jack were talking at all. just a little bit before and after. you didn’t really consider it a way to get closer to him, although seeing his muscles flex under the constant sunlight wasn’t a downside either.

the way he feels towards you, it was confusing. at a point, you thought it was completely one-sided. at another point, you thought it was mutual. now you weren’t so sure anymore.

you thought the way his ear flick sporadically or the way his tail wagged might be a sign. however, you concluded, his tail wags all the time. no matter how stoic he seems, his tail always lightly swayed left and right. he was often in a good mood.

but you do think that you and him are close enough friends to give eachother a hug. or something like that. so you decided to use your friendship status with him as an advantage to test the waters.

once again, on a quiet monday after school, you watched jack run.

you usually liked to count how many laps he runs in a day. for a guy who likes routine, the number of times he runs around the field are at random intervals.

as he came close to you to reach for his water bottle, you smile and look up at him. “you ran a little more than usual this time.”

“oh did I?” jack asked, wiping his forehead. “I don’t count.”

“well I do.” you replied, standing up slowly beside him. you fingers intertwined against each other behind your back and your head tilted just enough for jack to give you a curious glance

“good job on today, jack!” you try to say in your most innocent, ‘I don’t know what I did wrong’ voice as you kissed him on the cheek.

you clearly saw him perk up. his tail wagged, way faster than normal. success. you thought.

so he is interested in you!

“uh- thanks.” jack said sheepishly, rubbing the spot you kissed.

for the rest of the week, you gave him a kiss on the cheek as a reward. he’d blush furiously and try to act nonchalant. if you weren’t interested in him, you thought, he’d have no chance with you from the terrible attempts of acting like he doesn’t care.

by afternoon, he was already accustomed to it and prepared himself for a kiss on the cheek, which you did with no problem.

he still wasn’t saying anything outwardly (although it was obvious he liked you back) so you wanted to tease him more! it’s important that he opens up on his own accord anyway.

so by next week on wednesday, you sat there as jack grabbed his water bottle and tensed up. he’s probably expecting a peck on his cheek like usual, except it never comes. he turns to look at you as you looked back with your best ‘?’ face.

“aren’t you gonna…” his tail that usually swooped side to side froze on the spot. his ears twitched.

“gonna what?” you smile him.

“the uhm…” he scratches his head. “nevermind.”

you chuckled and stand up. he’s taller than you, so you have to stand on your toes and hold onto his arm to reach his cheek, but you give it a mwa anyway. jack perks up again.

“if you wanted one you could’ve just said so.”

jack looked to the side, embarrassed. “I thought it was… like a routine… or whatever… so… I didn’t think I’d need to ask.”

“I mean, I could kiss you whenever if you could just ask me out already.”

“h-hah?!”

the end ♡

[littledead-ridinghood]

sorry if this is a weird question to drop on you you were just the first person I thought of who might know but do you know if it's canon/canonically-based evidence that jason is physically stronger than other bats because I always see people say jason is the one with "brute strength" and I can't remember if that's based on anything besides people saying that as a nicer way to call him a brute(maybe it was on lobdells stuff? but I wiped most of those out of my memory)

You thought of me first? <333333 I'm blushing. And it's not weird at all! Even if it was, I love answering weird shit.

Anyway:

So part of Jason being considered "the muscle" of the bats comes from the fact that Jason's currently the biggest of the robins. (Adult!Damian is usually drawn as the tallest of the kids when all is said n' done (that's vague for "age")).

Well, how big then?

I always go with this chart which was released while UtRH was being released:

(I Love this! I wish DC still did little info things like this within their comics. Or maybe they do and I'm just blind. But Look! Canonical Information!)

So canonically speaking, at least when running around pre-crisis, Jason is 6 feet tall and 180 pounds. (Also note criminal mastermind and put a pin in it)

But you've probably heard 200 & 220 thrown around a lot. Those numbers are specifically pulled from two different DC character encyclopedia books which I don't trust at all because there notoriously filled with false information and are dubbed as not canon all the time.

Personally, I use the 6', 180-195 pound range which estimates for fluctuating weight, the passage of time, muscle mass, and minimum bulk & cutting (which I assume is part of most superheroes' training to stay in fighting form, but please recognize that vigilantes are more athlete than bodybuilder) because it's from a canon source (Canon is "king" and all that). No shame to people who use the other numbers or even headcanon something completely different, but again, vigilantes are predominantly running all over cities day after day, not stagnant weight lifters. Cardio vs weights body compositions are quite different even if both are healthy. (And it's not all "swimmer's body illusion" either (they have that body because they swim? No, they swim because they have that body.)

How much muscle mass a person can maximally obtain is up to your genetics. But that max only comes with constant maintainment. It's not feasible for Jason to be doing all that cardio and also have that much muscle mass and fat. Cardio burns "fat" (calories), weights build muscle. We constantly see the former and former-adjacent workouts more than the latter with him. Jason is running across rooftops, flipping off them before falling into a shoulder roll onto the next roof over chasing after bad guys every night. The number of calories he'd have to eat and time put into lifting weights (too many reps a week lead to damage, not growth) to maintain his max (max being what a lot of weights category athletes try to achieve which Jason just hasn't been shown to be (except in his jailbird phase where he could literally only lift weights, read, and avoid being killed to pass the time)) isn't possible.

Using comic art to "prove" how much he weighs doesn't work either. Firstly, because everyone wears weight differently. Two people can be the same height, weight, and sex and look completely different. This is due to different body types, composition, genetics, diet, (what kind of) exercise, and many other factors. Assuming someone thinner is automatically "super light" doesn't factor in different body compositions (fat, muscle, bone percentages). (yes, I know it's stupid to apply science to comics. There's my digression. let me live). Secondly, Jason (just like everything else about him) isn't drawn consistently at all. Sometimes he's pretty damn massive, but we also have Twink and Twunk Jason (DC can't even decide on hair color? Do you think they're gonna decide on his body?).

So, comic book art isn't super reliable as evidence unless we want to theorize if, how, and why he seems to fluctuate between weights all the time (<- Which I have a whole headcanon about if anyone's curious), especially in comparison to the others because, seriously, it's totally a Jason thing. Most characters are pretty consistent in body type. Anyway, someone could argue "See! he is 210!" but it's also not for a long enough period to stick around :/ Again, hard to consistently maintain that much weight as a 6-foot-tall, cardio-based athlete.

Also note: DC is horrible when it comes to weight-to-height lineups. A woman hero can be ~5'7'' and then we're told she's 110 lbs which Fact 1. is considered underweight for this kind of height-to-sex ratio, Fact 2. probably isn't factoring in the fact that muscle is heavier than fat, she just "looks thin", and 3. Usually, totally, absolutely is just blatant sexism.

Really, the numbers don't seriously mean anything of actual substance because their comics, are unreliable, and also usually just...scientifically wrong. But Jason's perception on page, as well as the information we've been told, is one reason he's considered "brute strength first and foremost."

Furthermore, Jason has been shown repeatedly to be on par with Bruce (even when Jason, most of the time, plays defense in their physical fights) but many people chalk this up to him and Bruce having similar physiques making it "easier". Again, counter-productive argument because Bruce and Jason have been drawn very similarly before in stories as well as completely different from each other in others. Also, this purposefully, blatantly ignores Jason's actual skills. No one chalks Dick Grayson or Cassandra Cain beating Bruce up to their body types. Moreover, when Bruce and Jason are drawn similarly in body, no one refers to Bruce as "Brute Strength" either. Bruce gets to be tactical, strategic, clever. (Also Also: In Pre-Crisis, Bruce, Dick, and Jason are deliberately drawn to look similar (height, mass, looks, etc.) to get that Brothers in Blood effect. Still, No one chalks the formers up to all strength. Just Jason)

And that brings us to your question, Anon: Is there canonical evidence for Jason being stronger than the other Bats?

Remember how I told you to put a pin in that "Occupation: Criminal Mastermind" note? Well, first off, Jason creating jobs for his community. Go off, king. Second off, and more importantly so, "Mastermind": a person who supplies the directing or creative intelligence for a project (Merriam-Webster).

When Jason was first re-introduced, what made Jason dangerous was that he was highly skilled and smart. He was playing with both Black Mask and Batman like a cat batting a toy mouse. He orchestrated an entire "slow-growing" takeover of Gotham's underworld (he was actually very quick about it). Jason controlled the situation and planned so well that he had the villains and heroes who were both after him fighting each other so he could slip away and do what he actually needed to do.

Throughout Jason's history, he's always had tools with him when he fights. To the point that Bruce says to Jaybin "You won't always have this" cutting his utility belt, insinuating he relies too much on it, which Jason returns the favor to on his return and fights B hand to hand <3 Love a cocky callback. Furthering this, he knows many, many different fighting styles and techniques both from life experience and from extensive training. Jason's a quick learner by nature and is incredibly adaptive. Guns; knives; swords; pens; sets bombs to specifically implode, not explode; makeshift gadgets; a baseball bat just laying around; a tire jack that one time; brains. I could go on. Jason doesn't just hit things. He uses what he has as a means to an end. He's canonically known as one of the best strategists in-universe and is incredibly creative with his surroundings. Jason isn't just great at extensive, long-term planning either. Bruce himself has remarked on the fact that Jason thinks incredibly quickly on his feet, he's really good at improvisation. Concisely, he has plans A-G and if all those fail, he can pull something out of nothing. Contrast this with Bruce who needs to have a plan for everything. Even if it doesn't look like he's following a plan, Bruce is. Opposed to Jason who can go with the flow and figure it out along the way.

Jason even said this in present-era in TFZ:

And that's the whole point, isn't it? Jason is strong. Incredibly so. He's big and tall and has gorgeous thighs. Not to mention, has a mean right hook. But just because Jason's strong doesn't mean he isn't a bat first and foremost who relies on his brain before anything else. He died 4'6 (on his death certificate, his height varies depending on what source you pull) and famously had to defend himself his entire life ever before being Robin. Being young and small and forced to survive shaped Jason into a quick thinker who could either get away or take enemies 10x his size down. Nowadays, he just has a longer reach.

In Event Levithan when Damian says: "Jason Todd is one of the Great Master fighters of all time" He doesn't say strongest because Damian doesn't mean strongest. Damian means adaptable, smart, capable, and well-rounded in skill.

While I don't doubt that Jason is most definitely one of the strongest Bats due to his size, what makes Jason dangerous is not his body, but the fact that he knows how to use it. It's not "Brute Strength" as many people like to say, it's Strategic Strength. He knows just because he's stronger than someone doesn't mean he'll always win. A la see panels above. Jason knows throwing his body around won't do anything of real, long-term substance. That it's just blindsided and stupid.

I'm sure if I looked I could pull panels where other bats and/or vigilantes refer to Jason as the muscle, brute (strength), all brawn (no brain), other such implications, etc, but whenever people do, it's always to undermine Jason's skill. Because it's not actually about his strength. Jason, with his taller, more built form, makes walking quiet seem easy. And it looks easy because he's good. Jason himself knows his skill set, it's everyone else that undermines him time and time and time again. (Again, Event Levithan, Bruce doesn't agree with Damian's statement even though Jason just outsmarted the six or so people who all just tried to take him down (for something Jason didn't even do, mind you))

But, again from Damian, Jason's not known as "the muscle," he's "the emotional one" also usually used to...degrade Ja--We can't have anything nice apparently is what I'm saying. But yes, when people refer to Jason as "Brute Strength" it's usually them trying to find a nicer way of saying Brute or "thinks with his fists" or "Jason hits first, asks questions later." It's in the same vein as when people say "Jason likes books" as short-hand for "see, he's smart at something" rather than acknowledging that Jason achieved a degree's worth of knowledge in comp-sci by age 13.

Anyway Smart and Strong Jason, my beloved. I wish DC & others loved you as much as Rosenburg and the teams of artists he's been working with do.

[boydepartment]

still into you- nishimura riki x reader

a/n: THIS WAS REQUESTED BY ONE OF MY ANONS HERE!

request: now months later reader's in the practice room, late at night on the floor, catching their breath while the music plays in the background softly. it was then when Ni-Ki slams open the door not expecting anyone to be there and their eyes meet through the reflection of the mirror dance rooms have

warnings- none tbh :3 just both of them being goofy

wc- 300-400

MASTERLIST

sprawling out on the practice room floor was like clockwork to you. especially after a long day of dancing and cardio.

it helped to keep you distracted too, your work was everything to you. it helped fill a void that you didn’t even want to think about right now.

you stretched out hearing a couple pops, laughing to yourself before flipping on your stomach to go on your phone.

frowning when you turned it on it was a wallpaper of you and your ex. you really need to delete it, it was still in the wallpaper album that changes it every hour.

it was just a reminder of the void, you weren’t even mad at him anymore. you missed him and wished you had communicated with him more. it’s one of your biggest regrets…

sighing you opened tiktok so you could have your break. your music from your ipad connected to the speakers playing softly in the background. ironically enough still into you by paramore was playing.

you were about to like a video when the door slammed open, scaring you so bad you jumped back.

“GO AWAY IM ABOUT TO PRACTICE!” the boy laughed before walking in, not even taking in your presence as he was looking down at his phone.

for a split second you took in his appearance now. it changed a lot, he looked like he bulked up, his hair was cut shorter, WAS THAT A TATTOO ON HIS FOREARM?

you blinked and he finally looked up at you, “oh.”

oh? that’s all he was gonna say to you? OH? after months of not talking… OH???

“um.” you quickly got up, grabbing your ipad, phone, and hoodie, “you can have the room haha it’s fine anyways-“

“wait no…” riki quickly ran to the door and blocked it, as you were making a beeline to the exit.

you looked up at him, your stuff pooling out of your hands, “get out of my way!”

“no!”

“what the hell!” you started to laugh, “you can have the practice room! let me go!”

“no!” riki said again, now using his arms and legs to block the door, “please don’t leave i really- i just-“

you set your stuff down by your feet, “you need to what? finally explain yourself, apologize for being a dick?”

riki was about to talk, “i-“ he put his hand up, “yeah…”

“little late for that.” you went to pick up your stuff again and you saw him trying to look through his brain for anything. his body slumping against the door now.

part of you felt kinda bad. the breakup was a little messy, him being busy, him not being able to tell you that he loves you, you both being a little short tempered. it just wasn’t the right time for either of you. you didn’t hold bad blood or anything. it was just awkward

you grabbed your stuff properly this time, “okay, move. it’s not funny or cute anymore.”

“anymore? you thought it was funny and cute before?” he put his hands and legs almost in a starfish position again against the door. grinning with that all too familiar mischievous smile of his.

“riki! i’m serious! i’ve been practicing forever, i smell bad and i need to get food!” you tried to move past him. you couldn’t help the small giggles escaping you.

“no! i can’t! i need to tell you that im in love with you still and im sorry i didn’t say it before because i was scared to!” at this point he was word vomiting.

you looked up at him, “you are?”

riki’s eyes were still closed, he nodded rapidly, the last nod he hit his head against the door. which left you falling over laughing.

riki looked horrified, did he just embarrass himself? what if you had another boyfriend already? or girlfriend? it’s been months.

“you’re so cute.”

oh…

his ears turned bright red as he watched you laughing on the floor. you looked up at him with that same sweet smile you had previous to your breakup. he sat down on the floor in front of you.

“i meant what i said…” he said as your laughter died down and you were left staring at eachother.

you smiled at him again, “i still love you.”

his eyes widened and he smiled back, “you do?”

“yes i do.”

he jumped up and did a little dance before grabbing your hands and lifting you up. hugging you and swinging you around.

“i love you so much i’m sorry i didn’t say it before. i really do love you.” he set you down, “even if you smell bad after practicing.”

you shoved his shoulder and riki laughed, “i’m kidding i’m kidding!”

you hugged him again, your arms shaking around his waist.

“can i come with you to eat dinner then?”

“as my boyfriend or my ex?” you mumbled. you felt his arms hold you back, his chin on your head.

“as your boyfriend obviously… if that’s okay…”

you smiled up at him, “yeah that’s okay, if you’re okay with me being stinky?”

he sighs dramatically and raises his eyebrows, “guess thats okay.”

you both start laughing before getting into a debate on what to eat together.

[sunnys-out]

Dance the Night | Lucy Bronze

A/N: Based on this request. Please enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Also, I am actually going to have a FaceTime date with my own Northern English, defender this Sunday so wish me luck :)

Also, I imagine that these are the types of dance covers that you would post on Tik Tok btw.

Word count: 2823

Warnings: Suggestive themes/statements

Baby, you can find me under the lights

Diamonds under my eyes

Turn the rhythm up, don't you wanna just

Come along for the ride?

Oh, my outfit is so tight

You can see my heartbeat tonight

I can take the heat, baby, best believe

That's the moment I shine

Lucy and I had the shared experience of playing in an American university. The only difference was that UC Berkeley was my home for my time there. 

One of the things that I did during my four years at Cal that made them special and even was something that people loved learning about me was that I was also a part of a dance group whilst playing football. When I was in America, I found that dance was a good way to maintain my cardio and it was a fun way to keep my mind off of football for a bit. I used to do ballet as a kid and did some hip-hop dancing as I grew older so it was not something too out of the ordinary. 

Even though football was my true calling, that did not stop me from dancing in the locker rooms before games, and posting little dance covers on Tik Tok during camps at the behest of Mary Earps.  The only reason that the fans got wind of the fact that I’m that teammate constantly dancing was because of Lucy, who was filming one time before we played in a friendly against Germany and posting it on Instagram. She says that I didn’t pull her immediately that day but I know Lucy and I saw the way she watched me behind the phone as I danced to Work Out by J. Cole.

During the Euros, it became a thing, I guess, for the main Lionesses Instagram to post my pregame dances in the locker room. One of those I ended up teaching Miss Lucy Bronze how to slow dance which turned into a faster dance much to Lucy’s dismay. Lucy twirling me into a hold was the focal point of the video and I get why this one became a fan favorite and material for loads of couple edits of us. 

The caption of said post, “@bbcstrictly @y/n is waiting for her call-up! 👀” 

Of course I commented, “@y/n: @bbcstrictly ok but actually I would be down, I love love love the show 💃🙏” 

Post win at the Euros, I was getting a call from the producers of Strictly Come Dancing to perform a one-time, special dance. They said that it was some kind of honoring fit for a new European champion.

I worked it out with my management that it would definitely be something that I could do after the World Cup since that was my next objective after a successful Euros run. 

During the off time in the World Cup, I found myself talking to the producers as they had ideas of the performance and the choreography that would go with it. So, sometimes I would have to deny a walk with Lucy to figure out some logistics. I was met with a small but still visible pout from Lucy as she only nodded and would call up Jordan to take my place.

My attention was monopolized once we finalized what song and choreography we were aiming for and of course my new dance partner. I didn’t really know the guy but apparently he was on a reality show and all the girls were after him. The only taste of reality shows that I had was occasionally watching Love Island over Rachel and Millie’s shoulders on bus rides to games. I did not understand at all what went on but the drama was entertaining from what I saw. 

______________________________________________________________

“So, you’re not going to tell me the name of the song you will be dancing to?” Lucy said as she remained sitting on the hotel bed as she watched me change into something nicer than the training set I had been in all day. Eyes trained on me the whole time. 

“Nope, it’s a surprise, baby. Sworn to secrecy anyways” I said as I got ready for our walk.

Lucy frowned as she started scratching her neck “well at least show me who you are going to be dancing with, like what if it’s a weirdo you know?” 

I comply and give her my phone after I look up the name of the guy they had paired me up with. 

“Not too bad looking right?” I tease, as I put on some dunks and ask for my phone back.

Lucy raised an eyebrow and laughed a little, “I know I can’t dance like you but ya think it’s too late to ask if I could be your dance partner?”

Now it was my turn to laugh, “don’t be jealous baby, now let’s get going there is a cafe with a chocolate pastry I wanted to try!” 

I pulled her up ignoring the small pout and muttering “ ‘m not jealous” as I gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and dragged her out of the door.

______________________________________________________________

After our loss at the World Cup final and a lot of tearful goodbyes to the other girls, Lucy and I made our way back to Barcelona and just took some time to decompress. 

One of Lucy’s favorite things to wake up to was seeing me in the kitchen making myself breakfast, dancing in silence with my airpods in my ears without a care in the world. 

This particular Saturday morning, however, she was confused because instead of a loose, messy  bun, my hair was brushed and down. 

Instead of one of my old, English training shirts, I was in a lilac crop top and denim shorts that showed off my legs and not my old PSG shorts. 

As she got closer, the smell of her favorite perfume on me hit her nose, suddenly Lucy stood there wondering what day it was and did she fuck up and forgot some anniversary. 

As I turned to go to our fridge to pull out the water pitcher, I caught sight of Lucy just standing by the kitchen island. 

“Baby, you know it’s rude to stare” I tease and followed up with a quick kiss on her cheek “Good Morning, sleepy head”

Lucy remained silent for a beat before going, “Why are you all dressed up on a Saturday morning?...Did I forget something?” 

She rubbed her eyes, lifting her clear glasses as she did so.

“Nope, our anniversary is still Bastille day, uh my birthday hasn’t changed and yours is still in October” I listed them off on my fingers and then continued as if I didn’t leave Lucy even more confused as I began cleaning the counter. 

A pair of arms wrapped around me stopping me in my tracks as Lucy burrowed her head into my neck taking in the perfume I wore. 

“Then will Miss L/N tell me where she is going dressed like this, hm?” She mumbled as she placed a chaste kiss on my neck.

“Going to get lunch with…ugh what was his name? The one I'm going to be dancing with for Strictly Dancing, baby” I say, nonchalantly, a smirk creeping at my mouth as I felt Lucy’s arms tighten around me and her mouth getting close to my ear.

Lucy did not show jealousy often but I loved it when she did. I loved teasing her but she would always dismiss it saying that she knew that I was hers so why should she worry.  But the tone of her voice gave her away. 

“Oh really?” She says softly in my ear before turning me around my back to the countertop now. My face remained unfazed as I nodded, even though I was loving everything about the interaction.

“Yes?” I nod over to the other counter across from me. “I made you some breakfast so ya don’t miss me too much, even cut you some fruit”. 

The softness and nonchalant nature of my voice made her jaw tightened a bit. 

“Want me to go with you?” she said not letting me go, still caging me in against the counter.

I thought for a moment and then shook my head “no” and simply replied.

“I’m a big girl. Don’t you worry, Lucia” My eyebrows raised slightly as Lucy pulled back.  

Lucy moves her arms back to her side, “Fine, but I’m driving you” 

She did end up driving me to the little brunch place and ignored my “protests” of “you don’t have to walk me to the restaurant, Luce” as she held me tightly at the waist, her hand possessively on the bare skin on my waist.

I let myself out of Lucy’s hold as I introduced myself to my dance partner. He truly was the object of every other girls dream…just not mine. He wasn’t unattractive at all. Even though Lucy came literally holding me at the waist, it didn’t stop my dance partner from subtly looking me up at down.

“Well, it’s great to meet a Euro Champion and a world cup finalist, (y/n)” he said avoiding Lucy’s glare through her sunglasses. 

I stop him and laughed, “well technically two, this is Lucy Bronze, my partner, she was just dropping me off” 

Lucy only extends her hand out to the guy and firmly shakes his hand and mutters out “pleasure”.

The guy only nods “well, I’ll make sure she gets home safely”.

I hide the smile on my face when I saw Lucy, still holding his hand, say bluntly. 

“Oh? No, I’ll be picking her up, don’t you worry” the guy’s hand falling limp as she let’s go. 

I give Lucy a hug and planned to just give her a quick kiss on the cheek but she pulled me closer to her by the waist and gave me a slow kiss on the lips,

Before I pull away, she whispered quietly in my ear, “just wanted to make sure he knows who you're coming home to”

______________________________________________________________

The little brunch outing was interesting to say the least. The boy was bold given Lucy did stare him down when she picked me up like she promised. Especially as we left the restaurant but I, kindly, avoided his “subtle” advances of him trying to lead me to Lucy’s car. 

What had been discussed about the dance and from what I could see is that I would be the main focal point and he would be, for lack of a better term, an accessory. I, of course, would not be telling Lucy that immediately, I was very much enjoying the attention she was giving me. 

It being essentially a solo dance made it easier since I have training and I wouldn't have to rely on someone else to also learn the choreography…which allowed for me to work on a little surprise for Lucy with my extra free time. 

______________________________________________________________

“Baby, can you help me with something?” I yelled down the hall of our shared apartment.

Lucy came in shortly with a raised eyebrow “ yeah what’s up?”

“Remember how you said that you wanted to be my dance partner instead of what’s his face?” I say as I move some of our furniture out of the way to make space in the middle all while trying to not hit Narla in the process. 

Lucy looked at me confused and with a laugh said, “I never said that…what’d you need though?”

I grab her hands and pull her to the middle of our living room “Well can you be my dance partner? You know with all the training and all I can’t really practice the choreo with him…so you want to help me?”

Lucy smiled and nodded as she pulled me closer to her and gave me a twirl “Ok, miss l/n, lead on”

______________________________________________________________

My, sweet, Lucia can be a wonderful dancer when she puts time into in. She followed my direction even though the “quick movements of the dance” were something she would have to get used to but eventually after a couple of weeks. She was able to fluidly hold me and move with me.

Narla definitely got a kick out of her two moms doing something akin to the salsa in the living room. I would say Lucy, even with the groans and complaints, secretly, enjoyed it as well.

The day of filming came quickly and out of nowhere and we were filming it in the streets of Barcelona; there was just no way we would be able to fly to England and back, especially with pre-season and games starting. 

I just want to give a special thank you to M&S for giving Lucy that outfit she wore during that one photoshoot we had with England, honestly, doing the Lord’s work. I had subtly asked that I would love to see her wear it again and again subtly suggested she wear it to the Strictly Dancing shoot and I just love it when she listens to me.

Luce was behind the cameras and chatted with the producers as they waited for me to come out of the dressing room ready to film.

As I was led out with my hand loosely in my dance partner’s I reveled the intensity of Lucy’s stare. 

Why? 

Well I had a silver, fringe dress with an open back and the dress came up to my mid thigh and matching high heels  and, well the fact, my dance partner was trying ever so slightly to get closer to me as we were speaking with the director. 

As we got into position, center “stage” in the streets of Barcelona, I look over to Lucy and give a quick wink to her. 

“Dance the Night by Dua Lipa” started to play on the set.  I began moving quickly and sensually and interacting very little with my partner. The fringe of the dress definitely did not leave much to the imagination. There were parts where his hand would find my waist but those lasted only a few seconds.

Lucy watched, not letting me escape her sight and hid her frown as she noted the times my dance partner would slow the movements of his hands once they reached my waist or when he looked me over as I danced a little ahead of him. 

We did not anticipate it being a one take but it was something that I wanted as it was more real in a way. As the music faded and the host came onto the stage to interview me, I caught Lucy in the corner of my eye, and she was smiling so big and visibly more relaxed.

“(y/n), so happy you could be here and we are just so happy to celebrate you and your achievements. How does it feel?” I hold the microphone, still catching my breath

“I loved this to be honest, love the show, and dancing is just something that I enjoy other than football. Uh, it’s definitely been some time since I’ve performed at this scale but it was absolutely a treat, thank you all for inviting me” I said gesturing to the crew members.

“Well, again we are happy to be a part of this and we know that another Euro Champions is in our midst, and I know that you had a little something prepared for the both of you?” The cameras now focused on a very confused Lucy.

I laugh and continue, “Yes, Miss Bronze, she thinks she has been helping me practice for this sole performance but we were actually going to dance together as well, come on babe” I gesture for her to come onto the stage.

The interviewer walks off announcing, “and now for a special dance by  the Euro Champions and World Cup Finalists choreographed by Miss (y/n) (l/n)”.

Lucy finally reached me and whispered, “You little sneak,you planned this didn’t you?” 

I only wink and immediately pushed Lucy into position like we have been doing at home in our living room.

“Maybe~”  The music restarted and Lucy with the biggest smile on her face did everything perfectly. There were some slips in the movement but they were replaced with laughter as Lucy held onto me tightly as the music faded.

She hugged me tightly whispering, “Im so proud of you” her hands finding their place at my hips.

I gave her a quick kiss on the lips as we both ignored the claps from the crew members. 

“So…would it be wrong to ask if you can keep the dress?” I smack her slightly at the question.

I give her a knowing smile, “Dress is mine to keep, but I don’t want to keep it on for too long, Miss Lucia Bronze”

I have never seen Lucy excuse herself, thank all the crew members and wish everyone a wonderful weekend so quickly before carrying me off the set in the midst of a fit of laughter. 

Let’s just say that these scenes from the recording quickly overtook the locker room dance in edits and well it was all worth the teasing from our teammates when it finally aired. 

[ushiwaakas]

Heyyy , how’s your day?? I was wondering if you could do ushijima and reader at the gym, reader is new to exercising and doesn’t know how to use equipment so ushijima helps them

hiiiiii !!!!!!!! my day is going good, i hope yours is too!!!!

AND AHHHH THIS REQUEST IS SO CUTEEEE

my first request !!!! i’ll be doing gender neutral reader!!! thank you so much!

☘︎ you’ve known ushijima for a while now, i mean, who doesn’t? being his desk mate, especially, you see him. him doing his schoolwork, him watching volleyball clips, him in general…

☘︎ okay he is a sight HAHA

☘︎ he obviously works out, duh, come on have you seen him???????? ‘cause…YOU'VE HAVE!!!1!1

☘︎ but, anyways, ever since you two worked on a school project together, you’ve been getting closer and closer.

☘︎ as friends of course haha!!!

☘︎ today was like any other day, you come in class, he’s already sat down in his seat, getting whatever he needs ready for class he just has a pencil lmao

☘︎ “good morning !” you said, as you sat down. you gave him a tiny smile, before putting your bag down under your desk.

☘︎ “Good morning. How’s your day?” he turned to look at you,

☘︎ you tell him good, asking about his day as you took out your pencil case. other kids were coming into class. it’s your last class of the day, finally.

☘︎ “Good, thanks. I wanted to ask, my friend, Tendou, usually comes to the gym with me on Fridays, since we have no volleyball practice. But, he’s sick. Would you like to come?”

☘︎…

☘︎ AHHHHHHH

☘︎ you squeaked out a ‘yes’ and it was done. you’re going to the gym with the ushijima wakatoshi.

☘︎ it happened so fast, school ending, you racing home to put on gym clothes, and getting basic necessities. and bam! you’re standing next to him, walking inside. you didn’t know whether to thank god, or to beg him for strength at this moment.

☘︎ ushijima was in some shorts, gym shoes, and a TANK TOP AHHHHH

☘︎ he had toned muscles.

☘︎ “It’s hot out today. Let’s go inside.” he waited for you to walk next to him.

☘︎..it was a little embarrassing, following him around like a lost puppy.

☘︎ at that moment, you realized- you have no clue how to use a gym. you’ve never been to one, or working out in general.

☘︎ yep, you were asking for strength, hope, and forgiveness.

☘︎ “Which machine would you like to use first?” he said, turning to look at you.

☘︎ AH he spoke to you AHHH

☘︎ you were blanking, oh god oh god.

☘︎ “What are you looking to do? High reps at a low weight, or vice versa? Or cardio?”

☘︎ ohgodohgod.

☘︎ “…cardio…?” nice going…

☘︎ he nodded, walking over to the treadmills, cycling machines, and the stair stepper machines.

☘︎ “…would it be okay to say i’ve never stepped foot in a gym before?” just get it out he won’t judge hewon’tjudge.

☘︎ “Of course. I can explain for you, if you’d like, or help you use it.” he spoke, not a hint of annoyance on his face.

☘︎ the giddiness in your body was radiating.

☘︎ you nodded, thanking him, before he stepped onto the treadmill. you followed, going on the one next to him.

☘︎ there were a ton of buttons. you looked over to him, giving him a look that said ‘please help’.

☘︎ he quickly came to your rescue, turning to look right at you.

☘︎ “Treadmills help with cardio. Most have similar settings, and some may have controls to monitor your heart rate. Press this button here to turn it on, and I can help you set the speed. You can go at whatever pace you’d like.”

☘︎ back to thanking god.

☘︎ you smiled at him, as he leaned over to turn on the treadmill. it was at a low walking pace. he went back to his own treadmill, and he turned his on. he began to press the buttons.

☘︎ HE TURNED HIS UP TO A 12???

☘︎…he put you at a 3.

☘︎ you looked over to him. he had perfect posture, perfect form, and he looked really good.

☘︎ you slowly put yours up at a light jog, the corner of your eye looking at him.

☘︎ HE WAS ALREADY LOOKING AT YOU AHHHHHH

☘︎ “Are you okay?” he said, not even breaking a sweat.

☘︎ taken aback, you quickly nodded, smiling at him. he turned and went to look straight ahead.

☘︎ you stopped after a little while- and you were so embarrassed.

☘︎ you were hot, sweating, hands-on-hips-position, and drinking your water.

☘︎ he was not phased.

☘︎ “We can work on the kettlebells if you’re alright with that. I can help you again. Form is especially important.”

☘︎ hehehehehehehe he’s going to help with your fooooormmmmmm!!!!!

☘︎ he led you over to the kettlebells, and got out a 5 pound. he took two 25 pounds for him…

☘︎ “Let’s start easy. Form is important, so let’s start with swings. Swing the kettlebell between your legs, and make sure to tighten your midsection. Once the kettlebell reaches hip height, squeeze your glutes and extend your arms to the ceiling.”

☘︎ yeah that went in one ear and out the other… his voice was so deep.

☘︎ he saw your puzzled expression, “I can help straighten your back as you do so, guiding you through it, if that’s okay.”

☘︎ YESYES THATS OKAY.

☘︎ “of course, thank you!” you smiled.

☘︎ he came over, and handed you a 5 pound weight. he stood behind you, close.

☘︎ “Can I put my hands on your back?”

☘︎ as he got a quick answer, he did so, his left hand on your back, and the other on your shoulder, straightening your back.

☘︎ “Okay. Go ahead.”

☘︎ he led you through it, helping you with tips as he still had his hands on you. after a couple reps, you put the kettlebell down, before looking at him.

☘︎ he still had his hands on you

☘︎ “I apologize.” ushijima quietly said, as he took his hands off.

☘︎ he bit his cheek, and looked away for a moment, before looking back at you.

☘︎ “Would you like to learn how to spot someone?”

☘︎ he seemed at ease, a more happier expression, if you really looked

☘︎ this was going to be a long day, but you wouldn’t want to be with any other person besides him.

AHHHHHH OKAYOKAY i really hope this is good! i’ve never written any headcanons, drabbles, onceshots, etc before, so i hope this is good! i didn’t want this to be too long,…i might’ve overdid it a bit….sorry!!!!!

in the future, i want to get more of the character’s expressions and how they feel, compared the reader! i would love to work on that!

also i love ushijima so much i really hope i portrayed him well! he’s a little difficult to write for, but ill get the hang of it!

i hope everyone likes this, and thank you @jellysupremacy for the request! i hope you like it!!! i had a good time writing it!!!! 💗💗💗💐💐

i wrote like crazy i think i did it in an hour this was so fun

[coochiequeens]

As your bones lose density, the only way you will protect them is by keeping your muscle mass; building strength in middle age is part of what will define the shape and tempo of your old age. “

When 50-year-old Anna Jenkins, the founder of We Are Fit Attitude (Wafa), a woman-only health and fitness club, looked online for images of older women exercising, she was irritated by the pitiful size of the weights: the stock image is of a woman with grey hair lifting a 1kg weight, as if doing so were some kind of milestone. My personal bugbears are the photos in which there is a personal trainer with an expression of infinite patience next to the older woman, as if the latter is weak and half witted.

Stock photos are the internet’s idea of what the world should look like, sets of generic images intended to illustrate articles and advertising, often revealing more worldview than they probably set out to. There are famously a lot of photos of white women laughing near salad, meant for healthy eating content, but also reinforcing inane cheer and self-denial as cornerstones of femininity. If fitness imagery of the young is all about aspiration – six packs, muscle definition and impossible body fat percentages – fitness imagery of older people is almost anti-aspirational. Its message is: “You probably can’t do anything at all, but look over here, there’s a lady managing this tiny thing.”

Jenkins runs the Wafa classes remotely and in person for women ranging from their late 30s to their mid-70s. One Saturday, at a class in Merton, south London, they decided to create a new set of photos, repopulate the ecosystem of stock photographs, so that when you search for “older women exercising”, you will be able to see what that really looks like. “These are proper weights,” says Annette Hinds, 60. “We’re not pussyfooting about.”

Jenkins went into group work and coaching from personal training because she had noticed that, in the gym: “Women would go straight to the cardio machine because they knew how it worked. It’s a frightening environment when you think you don’t belong, when you’re unhappy in your body shape. But they didn’t need more cardio – at 45-plus your body needs strength work. Especially during the menopause. It’s just a fact.”

As your bones lose density, the only way you will protect them is by keeping your muscle mass; building strength in middle age is part of what will define the shape and tempo of your old age. But as Glenda Cooper, 51, who usually does this class remotely five times a week, says, there is more to it than that. “Women at this time of life have parents we’re caring for. I’ve got two kids. You don’t want to take up too much space, you feel invisible anyway, you don’t make time for yourself. It’s so important to have a sense of your own strength, which I think is absent from the rest of our lives.”

The atmosphere is fierce: as Lorraine Turner, 59, says: “I never used to think I was competitive, but later in life, I’ve realised that I am. I get a lot out of it if I push myself more.” Karen Silvestri, 60, remarks archly: “My husband’s a chef so I eat a lot and drink a lot. I still manage to retain this normal shape.”

Palmer’s daughter paid her a compliment on her butt the other day: “She said it wasn’t flat like a lot of women my age.” Downward comparison is very motivating, and it is also fun to watch when people are so unabashed about it.

“We’re a funny bunch, women, aren’t we?” Teresa Klasener, 61, says. She was very active until she got rheumatoid arthritis, then it all hit the skids until she started with Wafa two years ago. “We have all these mental blocks, we don’t prioritise ourselves, but once we’re in a group, we’ll fly.”

Jenkins says: “When I first became a personal trainer, I’d see a lot of women who were yo-yo dieters, and it was often because they were trying to be skinnier than their bodies were meant to be. I think exercise makes you confident in your shape as it is.” That might be the ultimate break with the visual norms of the fitness industry, that these are images of strength and exertion for their own sake, not for how they’ll make you look in spaghetti straps.

“I never knew what people were talking about with the endorphin thing,” Redford says. “And now, I do feel a sense of joy and self-congratulation, knowing that I just fucking went for it.”

[pavlovianfuckery]

catch me if you can or whatever

basically what it says in the title. make silly bets, get silly prizes, like creature-dick and the worst cardio session ever

This is a nightmare. Your lungs are burning and your legs ache, but still, you run. If you had known that one childish impulse would get out of hand like this, you might have thought twice before teasing him the way you had.

It had started as something silly, trying to pry him away from his work for a few minutes, nothing more. A quip about him needing to lighten up hadn't been quite enough, so in the spur of the moment, you had simply snatched the book he'd been reading right out of his hands, absconding deeper into the library with a barely suppressed laugh. You hadn't expected him to chase you, though. Granted, it wasn't in any great hurry but pursue you he did, finally cornering you between the towering bookshelves.

"That was juvenile, even for you. Do I truly bore you so?" The way he'd chided you lacked any real heat though.

"Is it so terrible to want your attention for a few minutes? You have all the time in the world to work." Fiddling with the folds in his coat, you gently nipped at his bottom lip. "Surely you can do the rest later?" It was not much use though.

"As much as I'd like to indulge you, I cannot, not tonight. Although..." he'd paused, thinking for a moment, "if a chase is what you're after, why not make it something a bit more exciting than these childish antics in my library?"

"I'm listening."

"How about a small wager? If you can evade me until sun-up tomorrow, by any means you can imagine, you may ask me for anything you would like." That piqued your interest. He'd humour you from time to time, that wasn't uncommon in itself, but he was usually so serious.

"That doesn't sound so hard. What's the catch? With you, there is always one of those." Which was true, for all that he might have accommodated you in the past, he would usually find some way to be a bit of an ass about it. If you didn't know better, you might have mistaken him for a fae. Your scepticism seemed to amuse him.

"Should you fail, I will do with you as I will, whatever that might entail." That hadn't sounded bad at all, butterflies filling your stomach at the way he'd smiled at you, just a hint too sharp."It may not be as pleasant as what you might be imagining, I'm afraid. After all, what would be the point of this little game if you were simply planning to let me win?"

"I'll make you work for it, don't worry." The words had come out a lot more confident than you felt, but you weren't going to let him know that.

"Good. I will even give you a headstart." You'd started protesting about not needing him to do you any favours, but he'd simply covered your mouth with his, cutting you off. Judging by the way he had kissed you until your knees felt like jelly, he perhaps hadn't minded being pulled away from his work for a while, after all. When he finally let you up for air, you'd noticed that he'd stolen his book back.

"Hey!"

"I'll be waiting. Now, wake up."

                                                                                                                                            ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In hindsight you're kicking yourself for agreeing, it had been so stupid. At first, you simply tried to hide, mostly to see what he would do. By any means you can think of, he had said, and being in the Dreaming made it easy to let your imagination run free. It seemed like as good a start as any, disguising yourself as a butterfly and joining one of the great swarms in the palace gardens, doing your best to blend in. Evidently, it was not as smart as you had thought, because he found you in barely any time at all.

"That's very clever, my love. You will have to do better than that, though." He paused, considering. "I did promise you a head start, did I not? Five minutes should be plenty, I believe."

Did he think you were that slow? Your dismay must have been apparent even in this form, a hint of a smile forming on his lips.

"Which is it going to be, my sweet? Are you going to waste time sulking, or are you going to run?"

You run. Or fly, rather. You're not quite sure what exactly you turned into this time other than "bird", but you're small and fast, and that's all that matters. In no time at all, Dream is nothing but a dark smudge against the grass, rapidly shrinking. The speed is exhilarating and for a moment you forget the bet, the silly little game, all of it. Not for long though. Silhouetted against the sky like this you make an easy target, so you dash for the only cover you can find.

In the Waking, it would be cold and wet and miserable, but not here. Here the clouds are warm, covering you like a soft blanket as you make for the nearby forest, the treetops barely visible through the mist like an untidy fence off in the distance. It's not too far, and if you hurry you will have enough hiding places to have a fighting chance, so you pick up the pace. And then something moves above you, dark wings parting the mist in great rolling waves. It's hard to see much, but you can tell that it's big, whatever it is.

"Is this the best you can do? I was expecting you to take this a bit more seriously." There is no way that it has been 5 minutes already, but before you can call him out for cheating, great talons are raking through the air. They miss you with barely an inch to spare, ruffling your tail feathers. He is seconds away from catching you and by the sound of it, you might get a bit more than you bargained for if you let him do that. You dive.

Despite the breakneck speed, he's all but nipping at your heels the entire way down, leaving you no choice but to hit the ground running. The grass is slippery with dew, turning your landing into a slide and making you lose your footing. Not for long though, strong hind legs and claws of your own giving you grip and a burst of speed as you launch yourself into the tall grass. A hare might not have been your first pick, but it's not like you had time to think. It makes gaining ground easy though, darting this way and that towards the treeline, narrowly evading the grasping talons.

You make it into the forest, the dense undergrowth giving you enough cover to shake him off. The thick layer of fallen leaves deadens every sound, and it takes you a few seconds to realize that he's not behind you anymore. In fact, you can't see or hear him at all. It's not likely that he would have given up that easily, but your legs feel like over-cooked noodles so you stop to catch your breath. Finally yourself again, you sit down heavily on a tree stump, lungs still heaving like bellows. Since this is all technically a dream, it feels deeply unfair that you get winded at all. You remind yourself to ask him about that later, but you suspect that running in your dreams does not count as cardio.

Dawn is still hours away, and you have no clue how you're going to make it until then. At this point, it feels like you might as well give up. You're pretty sure he wouldn't do anything too bad, and there is no way you can keep this pace up for much longer. The sound of a dead branch breaking nearby is loud, taking you by surprise.

At first, you're not entirely sure what you're looking at, except that it's not any kind of animal that you know. It's pale, with a starved look about it, all sinew and bone. Between the dark tufts of fur and the gangly, oddly proportioned limbs, it is entirely alien. Even the way it moves is unsettling as its antlered head swivels in your direction, its eyes fixed on you. Black eyes.

As it turns out, you do have the energy to keep running after all.

For a few fleeting seconds, you almost think he might let you go. But then he chases after you, more branches breaking. It's over in less than a minute. If you hadn't tripped it might have been one and a half, maybe even two. But soon, a clawed hand pushes you down onto the ground, leaving you splayed out like so much prey. Wriggling only makes him put more of his weight on you, claws pricking your skin.

"Be still." His voice is almost felt rather than heard, reminding you of gravel being ground underfoot and the bubbling of mud, nothing like his usual smooth velvet. There is a gibbering at the back of your mind, every base instinct telling you to flee, to get away by any means possible before you're eaten."Or would you deny me my prize?"

For a moment you consider it, calling it off. He hasn't held that against you in the past, and he wouldn't now. And despite appearances, you're pretty sure he wouldn't actually eat you. This close you can't help noticing the disconcerting amount of sharp-looking teeth though, so you take a deep breath to try and calm yourself.

"No." Your voice isn't quite as steady as you would have liked it to be but you reach out to touch him all the same. His skin is warm and dusted with fine, almost invisible hair. It's a strange, almost sticky feeling, and when he pulls away to move down your body, you half expect it to coat your fingers like moth scales. When he reaches the apex of your thighs he nuzzles there, drawing your scent deep into his lungs with a low rumbling sound.

The way he picks at your clothes with the tips of his claws is almost dainty, the fabric giving with little ripping sounds as he works your legs free, leaving you bare. When he spreads your lips to expose you to him it's with the gentlest touch, careful not to scratch you. Aside from his eyes, the way he works your clit is the only familiar thing tonight, teasing you until you can hardly stand it. When the tip of his tongue probes your entrance your eyes drift shut, anticipating what's to come.

"No, look at me." Once he's satisfied that you're watching he slides his tongue into you, inch by slick inch, not stopping until his teeth prick your skin. He could swallow your entire cunt whole like this, easily fitting all of it in his mouth with room to spare.

The movement of his tongue is a slow, undulating thing as he fucks you with it, drinking down every drop of your juices as he massages every sweet spot at once. It's a wholly new sensation and it's got you craving more of it, making you grab hold of his antlers to better grind yourself against him, but he just gives a low growl and splays one huge hand across your stomach, keeping you still as he feasts on you. Craning your neck you can only just glimpse his length, massive and ridged, the broad head already leaking and turning the dark fur between his legs sticky.

"Gods, Dream, you're not planning to fuck me with that?" He doesn't respond right away, so intent on devouring you, not stopping until you're trembling.

"Remember the agreement, my love. Do not refuse me now." His expression is harder to read like this, but the want in his voice is plain enough. Stroking your sides soothingly, his voice turns almost cajoling as he continues, "Turn over."

Perhaps against your better judgement, you do as he asks, your stomach fluttering with equal parts desire and trepidation. The smell of decaying leaves and trampled undergrowth is thick in your nose as he puts you on your hands and knees, face nearly touching the forest floor. It's hard to stay still as he starts slowly pushing inside, careful not to crush you under his weight as he mounts you. He makes it less than an inch before you tense, certain that he's going to split you in half somehow.

"Wait, I don't know if..."

"You can take me." He presses against you another fraction of an inch, not bothering to let you finish talking. "You will."

At first, it feels like he's demanding the impossible, but gradually you manage to relax. He takes his time working his way inside of you and when he finally bottoms out it's with a guttural sound, his breath ruffling your hair as he pants against the back of your neck. You half expect some form of "I told you so" but it never comes. Instead, you simply breathe together for a few moments as he gives you time to adjust.

When he moves it's so slowly, like he could break you somehow. When you don't, he gets bolder, pulling nearly all the way out and then thrusting back in, making sure you feel every ridge and bump. Every noise you make seems to egg him on until his teeth are at the back of your neck, not quite drawing blood.

He takes his time, holding you steady as he claims you utterly. Even when his teeth nick your skin he doesn't falter, probing at the cut with his tongue until saliva dribbles down your neck. Even the way he tightens his grip on you is entirely other, leaving you unable to do anything but wriggle in the dirt, black spots dancing across your vision.

"Dream, please!" Everything is pressure and a gasp is all you can manage. You can feel him swell inside of you in response to your pleading, and then one huge finger settles over your neglected clit, the claws a reminder of just how easily he could rip you apart like this.

In a way he does, rubbing at you until your release is so close that you can nearly taste it. Teetering right on the precipice, you're not sure if there is even room for you to come, he's got you stretched so wide. He's insistent though, trapping you between his hand and his cock, not letting you squirm away no matter how much you try.

In the end, he reaches his peak first, jaws locked like a steel trap around your neck as he spills deep inside of you. It feels as if it might never end as he pulses over and over until his release is running down your legs, black like tar. Even then he manages to keep up the slow, full strokes, refusing to stop until you hurtle over the edge.

When you finally do, it knocks the breath out of you, leaving you no air to even scream. The girth of him makes your cunt struggle to clench and as he fucks you through it, he very nearly gets pushed out. He doesn't let up until you almost collapse under his weight, utterly spent. Even as he lays you down on your side he doesn't withdraw, just pulls you close and curls in around you with a sound that while strange, sounds content enough. It's oddly cosy like this, his deep rumbling breaths against your back, and for a few moments neither of you says anything. As the light-headedness starts lifting and your heart stops pounding like you've run a marathon, you can't quite hold back a sigh.

"Something troubling you, my love?" Even distorted, the amusement in his voice is apparent.

"Were you ever going to give me a fair chance to win?" With the soreness setting in, it's difficult to keep some irritation out of your voice.

"Perhaps." This time he doesn't bother to disguise it, and you're grateful that you have your back turned so you don't have to see the smug expression on his face. "As I recall, you agreed to the terms."

"You cheated!" You emphasize the words with an elbow to where his stomach should be, though not very hard. It barely connects, and you're too worn out to stay annoyed. There is a crick in your neck and you wince, hoping it won't follow you into the waking world. "Next time, remind me not to interrupt while you're working."

At first, he doesn't respond and you think he might be having a coughing fit. For a second you wonder if an Endless can even get sick, or if something else is wrong. Then he nuzzles your neck and you realize that the dreadful noise is him laughing at you. Not very loudly, but still. By the time you wake up, you still haven't decided whether you should be annoyed at the cheek of him, or just be happy that you heard him laugh for the first time.