#mentally rotating a shoe in my mind to get all the angles

[abimee]

commission for @tsotc of the lovely viera couple peppy (he/she) and gargar (she/it) :] + a bunch of alts of the comm, very happy with this one and coming out on the other side with an appreciation for people who draw flowers by hand ha ha🦧

[writingsbychlo]

smoke and fire (05)

word count; 10,782

summary; a team bonding night forces you and thomas to confront some issues, and it goes a lot better than you had thought it would.

notes; a sweet break from all the tension, you’re welcome.

warnings; not even one. 

Closing your locker door, it was with a mildly relieved sigh as you did, the shift coming to a close, and you were ready to just relax. It wasn’t a hard day, in fact, since talking to Thomas and clearing things up between you both, these last few shifts had been better than ever.

You no longer felt like you were walking on eggshells with someone who hated you and may blow up at any moments, but instead, you were simply dealing with the usual precarious balancing act that came along with not quite fitting into somewhere, being a hexagon trying to fit into an octagon-shaped hole. Almost the right number of angles and edges, but not quite. No, this shift had just been particularly tiring because you’d been required to walk up eleven flights of stairs to get to a patient in an apartment building where the elevator was broken, you were wearing new work shoes that were pinching just a little, and your bra strap was digging in just slightly.

You couldn't wait to get home, actually.

Your legs ached, your shoulders felt chafed, and if you didn’t get these shoes off soon, you’d have blisters. As others moved around the locker room, you bid soft goodbye’s to them all when they voiced their own to you, your eyes finding Chuck on the way out, and watching as he scrolled through his music choices to set up his next playlist for the walk home.

Your jaw dropped, intending to call out to him, but Brenda was soon sidling up by his side, the two sparking a conversation, and you didn’t bother, not wanting to interrupt the pair as their chatter began. You were reaching the open doors to the bay, looking out to the roads as you prepared to round the building and find the carpark, when your name was being called out, loudly, echoing around the walls of the garage and causing you to halt in your steps, turning around to see Minho.

Newt was by his side, the blond waving a little as he disappeared back into the station or finish up whatever he was doing, and you waited for a second as the darker-haired man caught up to you, grinning through the pant his short jog had created, one hand coming up to adjust the bag on his shoulder as he stopped by your side.

“Hey, can I walk you to your car?” You raised a brow at him, looking out at the scarcely fading daylight of the day shift coming to an end in the early evening, and the minimally short walk it was to the parking lot, which you could already see through the thin lining of trees. “We can chat, I have a question for you.”

That made more sense, and you nodded your head, taking a step in that direction as he matched your space, your feet meeting the cool concrete outside of the firehouse. “You know I can’t give you drugs, right? Wish I could, but it’s totally illegal, and very unethical. You’ll have to just drink away your sorrows like the rest of us.”

He scoffed, staring at you for a second, before letting out the laugh that he was holding in, his shoulder bumping a little against yours. “Damn, and here I was planning to build my pharmaceutical black-market empire solely on your cooperation.”

“Damn, if only I didn’t have a moral compass.” You sighed, gravel crunching under your feet and his as the two of you crossed over the pathway marking the official property, and the parking lot, only a few cars left from your team, all the others belonging to the new rotation who had just arrived. “So, what’s up? You got an injury, or something?”

“No, nothing like that.” He shrugged, following you along as you neared your vehicle, and he considered his next words carefully, it seemed. “I’m having a little get together tonight. Just a squad night, and I remember Chuck saying something about a movie night, I figured we’d just pick that back up. It’s going to be at my place, most of the team are coming.”

You reached your car, silence falling between the two of you as you unlocked it, and dumped your bag down onto the passenger seat. You thought about it all, who might be there, and the implications of actually going over to someone’s house. That was personal, to invite someone into your home, and you weren’t sure you were ready - or if you ever would be - to have someone from the team over to your apartment. In fact, you couldn't remember the last time you’d had a friend over to your place. Then, it clicked a little, remembering the conversation you’d witnessed taking place before Minho had joined you. “Did Newt put you up to this?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, did Newt tell you that you had or invite me to this?” You repeated, and he bit on his lower lip for a second, his eyes dropping from yours.

“No, not technically. I brought up the idea of doing something with the team, and he said ‘well, you’re inviting (Y/N) and Chuck too, right?’ and I absolutely was already planning on inviting you.” Your eyes narrowed on him a little, and an honest look flashed over his features, where cheeky and teasing expressions normally lay. “I swear it.”

You considered it for a few seconds longer, but you knew that if you turned this event down, even if the idea of seeing your colleagues outside of work still made you anxiety spike high, that you’d never be invited to anything again if you didn’t accept, and so you gave in. “Sure, text me your address?”

“Great, come by anytime after seven, we’ll probably start Chuck’s movie at about eight.”

He gave you a thumbs-up as he backed away to his own car, and you wondered for a second whether he even had your number, but he was walking away, already busy texting at his phone again as he left, and you figured he would simply get it from Newt if need be. Settling down into your car and starting it up, the radio came on in a loud blast, making you jump slightly and fumble to turn it down, shaking the shock from your body before setting off into drive.

As you drove along, you couldn't help but let your mind wander to who would be there. You knew Minho had mentioned Chuck, and you desperately hoped the young boy would be there because he was the first of the team who had welcomed you, and was so far the person who made you the most comfortable of them all, because you felt as though you fitted in with him the best. He understood you, despite your differences. You were a girl who’d had too many houses, and he was a boy who had barely seen one yet, and so the struggle of being outsiders seemed to match up perfectly.

He was funny, and reliable, and you knew you’d feel at least slightly better if he was there. You hoped Brenda would be, too. Something along the line between camaraderie and friendship had been growing between you both, and you definitely didn’t want to be the only chick there, because then they’d want o have guy talk, and you’d end up sitting silently and trying to slip away mentally to your happy place as you died on the inside a little.

Of course, Newt would be there, but he was one of the most sociable people you’d ever met, and so you couldn't exactly rely on him to spend the entire evening by your side just because you still felt like you were in a room full of strangers when your anxiety got the better of you. Even if you were certain he would if you asked him to.

Pulling out onto the highway, your music clicked off, your ringtone taking over a second later through the car’s speakers, and your brows furrowed as you looked down, a number you didn’t recognise, and you freed up one hand from the steering wheel to click accept on it once you were comfortably within a line.

“Hey, girl!”

“Hi, Gina Linetti.” You scoffed, hearing the chuckle of your coworker through the phone, and making a note to save Brenda’s number to your phone. “What do you need? I’m not turning back around to the fire station. I’m, like, five minutes from home. If you’re not dying, it can wait until next shift. Or, go to the hospital, I’ll text Derek and let him know you’re on your way.” You snickered at your own joke, and you gasped a little.

“Who’s Derek?”

“The doctor from Aaron’s case.” You flicked on your indicators, moving across the lanes slowly toward the exit as it began to near, and you waited as she thought on it, before gasping.

“You mean the hot doctor?”

“I guess.” You shrugged to yourself, before realising she couldn't’ see you, and before she could ask more, she was cursing loudly at someone else on the roads, clearly having called you from her car, and your eyes widened a little at the road rage she exhibited, trying to curb your humour in an attempt not to laugh.

“Fuckin’ idiots on the roads.” She huffed through the crackly speakers, and you grinned a little peeling off down an exit road and following the path you’d learned well toward the place you were now calling home. “Anyway, I figured I could come pick you up for Minho’s later? You’re drinking, that's not up for debate, and so you can’t take your car and try to drive home afterwards.”

“I didn’t know this was a drinking kind of thing.”

“It’s Minho’s event, of course, it’s a drinking kind of thing.” She spoke the words as thought you were supposed to know that, as though you knew him well enough, or had hung out with him for long enough that you’d know what a gathering hosted by each member of the team would be like. She seemed to sense the tension, clearing her throat to brush over it. “You don’t need to bring anything, just dress comfy for a night of movies and snacks, that’s it. I’ll pick you up in, like, two hours?”

“You’ll need my address for that.”

“Then you’d better give it to me.” She teased, making your roll your eyes fondly, and the streetlights around you were just beginning to warm up as dusk began to fade into the sky, muted shades of pastel purples and pinks coming in as the sun set, setting an iridescent backdrop for grey clouds. “Text it to me, and I’ll see you soon.”

“Cool.”

She hung up after that, the music clicking back on, and as the conversation ended, you couldn't help but feel like you’d somehow been conned into something, Brenda having had you agreeing to carpooling and drinking and a longer night than planned before you'd even known it, smooth and subtle to get her way, leaving your head spinning. As you pulled into the underground parking lot of the apartment building, you sat in the seat for a second, staring out in confusion at the other cars as you wondered what the hell had happened.

Less than an hour ago, you’d been planning to come home, make some pasta, have a bath and maybe do some reading, a night spent by yourself was the normal, all you had planned, and yet somehow, you now had plans to get tipsy and watch a movie with your team, and you were unprepared. The smell of vomit was still lingering on you from your latest patient and had greasy hair, the wash load you would have done later tonight or tomorrow for your next shift a couple of days would now be crammed into two hours; you had to wash up, make sure there was money in your wallet for a taxi later, find some alcohol from somewhere, get your uniform into and out of the washer to dry, all for plans you didn’t know you had until now.

You bit your lip, shaking your head, snatching your keys from the ignition and getting on with your preparations. You had a lot to do.

The second that you were pushing the door open with your shoulder, you kicked off your shoes, leaving them abandoned at the side of the door as you pulled back and took in the apartment. It wasn’t too messy, but it was another chore you’d been intending to get done tonight, so that you could make the most of your day off, and you let out a heavy sigh as you took it all in. Your first stop was your shower, bag dropping from your shoulder to the floor much like your shoes, abandoned to be sorted later, and you stripped of your clothes as you walked, shirt being unbuttoned and belt loosened, until you were standing in your underwear in the laundry room and stripping it all off in front of the washing machine.

It wasn’t ready to be set off yet, but you needed to shower first, and so your first call was there, tugging the band loose from your hair and running your fingers through it as your ponytail finally came loose, strands sitting awkwardly and messy atop your head in their fixed position. A text on your phone caught your attention, and you were tempted to ignore it, before realising it was probably Minho texting his address across, and it reminded you to send Brenda your own.

Switching on the warm water, you darted from the room, letting it warm up behind you as you searched for your phone, locating the device on the counter and saving his number to your contacts, replying with a simple ‘thank you’, before sending your own address across to Brenda. She, in turn, replied with a series of smiley emojis that made you laugh a little under your breath, not bothering to respond and putting the phone down.

As you stepped back into the bathroom, you were rubbing at your eyes tiredly and suppressing a yawn, shaking yourself down in an attempt to shake away the work fatigue in order to attend the plans you now had, and make the most of them.

The steam was tempting you in, the heat coming from the water was calling out to you, and as you stepped over the edge of the tub, one leg under the water, before the second was following, pulling your body under the spray and letting the what spread over your skin, a sigh slipping from you. It was relaxing, to be able to physically feel the grime slipping from your skin and down the drain as you cleaned yourself off.

The smell of bile on your skin was replaced with that of fresh and sensual smells from the creamy body wash on your side, perfume style and floral scents, something much more comforting and relaxing and you found your muscles loosening under the spray. You didn’t get to stay in the water as long as you wanted, only long enough to rinse off your hair and settle into a more comfortable state of mind. You were tempted to call it all off, to run a hot bath and put a bathbomb in it, something that would leave your apartment smelling great for hours, but you couldn't, you knew you’d already agreed, and you still had so much to do before Brenda got here.

Hopping out, with a towel wrapped around your body and another around your hair, you didn’t get to spend as long pampering yourself as you wanted to, the sheet mask on your counter that you wouldn't get to use tonight, and your favourite sets of moisturisers next to it, but instead, you had to rush through your routine, making sure your skin was taken care of, before combing through the lengths of your hair and leaving it untangled around your shoulders.

With a basket under your arm, you dashed throughout the apartment, trying to scoop up all of the old laundry that you had to try and get through, not wanting to start with chores on your day off when you’d intended to use the evening to do it all, and so you were rushing to get it at least started now. Dropping your collection in front of the machine, you sorted through it all, dividing it into piles and making sure your uniform was on the first collection, absolutely ensured to go through.

There was some basic cleaning up to be done, setting off the washer and pulling the door to the laundry room almost shut, hands on towel-covered hips as you stared around the main room, a lived-in mess that wasn’t out of control, but somehow, the time had slipped so far past you that you felt as if the clock was spinning at double speeds, less than an hour left until your friend was due here, and you let out a loud groan.

You figured that getting dressed might be a wise place to start, drying off damp strands of hair before choosing the most relaxed but still reasonably appropriate outfit that you could. Something that wouldn't make you feel embarrassed or insecure, but also met the requirements of ‘comfy and cosy’ for a night of drinking and snacking. With dry hair that wasn’t bothered to be pulled back, phantom pains along your scalp just at the mere idea of being slicked back once again, you were left to try and get some tidying done before it was time for you to leave.

You skidded around a little on the polished wood floors under you, socks making them slippery, and you started in the kitchen, shoving all the pots and plates that you’d neglected to take care of into the dishwasher, and setting it off on an extra-long cycle to get at the tougher spots that would usually require scrubbing if you did it in the sink.

While it ran, you plugged your phone in for some last-minute charging, your favourite songs beginning to emanate around the room and fill the house with sound, letting you sing along quietly under your breath as you fold your blankets, straightened out the couch cushions, and wiped down the later of dust that was beginning to build. A lamp lightbulb needed replacing, and so did the canister in your air freshener, but your phone was repeatedly chiming from the kitchen counter you'd left it on, and the sound of a car’s horn came from the street outside of your house a moment later as you realise your friend must’ve arrived.

Peering out of your window, your suspicions were confirmed, catching her head moving as she made to get out of her car, pulled up haphazardly onto the sidewalk to wait for you, and you decided that everything else could wait until tomorrow. A quick wash over room spray over it all, and the rest of your tasks needed to be left. You hadn't managed to rustle up any drinks from your cupboards, or nothing appropriate to take with you, anyway, but you were certain you’d be able to swing by a store on the way, or you’d share whatever Newt had brought and send him half the money for it.

Tugging on a pair of sneakers and cursing under your breath as the horn sounded again, your phone still chiming, you hopped around a little to pull the shoes on, grabbing a hoodie to pull over your t-shirt from the coat hooks by your door, the first jumper your hand found, and bringing it over your head. Snatching up your phone, keys, and wallet, you flicked at the lights and left the building, the catch on the food locking your apartment up nicely.

The light had faded since you had gotten home, a crisp night chill began to seep in, even more so in the main lobby as you stepped out of the elevator, seeing her parked up front, and your jaw dropped as you took her in. She looked up, sensing the movement, and grinned at you, your eyes canning along her body, before you were scowling a little.

“Bren! What the fuck?”

“What the fuck; what? Hurry up!” She leaned down and pressed the horn again, only making you scowl at her more, as she assumed that was what had you all wound up.

“You said to dress casual and comfy!” You hissed, nearing her and crossing your arms over your chest as you felt a little uncomfortable now in a hoodie and some soft cotton pants, something that was a cross between leggings and sweatpants, and you couldn't remember what they had been called.

“This is what I wear to be comfy!”

“That is what I would wear to a club!” You stared at her, the cropped tank top and the skinny jeans and the heels that were over her knees, and you let out a huff. “Hey, I can’t be held responsible. Have you seen my ass? I gotta’ flaunt it while I still got it. Get in the car, you look fine, everyone else will be the same.”

“If they’re not, I will legitimately go home.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” She grinned, slamming the passenger door as you got inside, grinning at you through the window before making her way around to the driver’s side, and something about her attitude was already making you regret your decision. She seemed like a hugely reckless driver, and you fastened your belt up quickly, and held onto it as she peeled away from the sidewalk of your building. “We have to go to the store too.”

“Why?” You question, slumping in your seat as she picked up the speeds a little more, and with her swerving in traffic and swearing lowly at other drivers who were actually following the speed limits, your suspicions were confirmed.

“Because all Minho ever has in is guy things for team nights. It’s always nachos and beer and pretzels, and pickles. Now I have another chick, we can get good snacks and I have someone to share it with.” Your brows furrowed, thinking back on a conversation you’d had with Thomas only a week prior, before disappearing to find your team, who’d already claimed a table at the bar, and all of your questions had been washed away.

“Wasn’t the paramedic before me a chick, though?”

Brenda’s face screwed up into a grimace, and she checked her mirrors, searching around the parking lot of the store, and you yelped with a little shock as she spun the car and a jerky angle into a parking space, reversing in line with the other vehicles on either side. “Teresa? Yeah, but she didn’t come to these things much. She did once she started dating Thomas, but even when she was there, she wasn’t really there, y’know?”

“So, they were, like, a thing? Serious, and all that?”

Brenda paused for a second, the engine still running, but a look you didn’t recognise crossed over her features as she stared out of the glass, watching others go by for a second and nibbling on her lip. You undid your belt, twisting in your seat a little, and wondered whether you’d crossed a line. “It’s not my place to say.”

Definitely crossed a line, then.

You had no idea how to backtrack, or get out of that situation, gaping a little, before she seemed to sense your discomfort, resetting herself and turning to face you. “I’m thinking white wine, what do you normally drink.”

“Not wine.” You teased, and she scoffed, rolling her eyes a little and killing the engine, before she was getting out of the car and stretching a little.

“Well, you’re gonna’ have to learn to love it, because as my only female friend, you’re the only person I have to do my girly-bucket list with. Like go to fancy cocktails bars and go to a wine tasting event in a fancy dress.”

“I like vodka and mini-golf. Work with what you’re given.”

She beamed, her arm linking through yours as the two of you made you way through crisp evening air toward the doors of the store. “Don’t worry, a few weeks around me and I’ll have you sipping Rioja and getting your nails done, and you’ll never even notice the change.”

“Uh-huh.”

You could fight it all that you liked, but the truth was, you were elated just to know that she considered you a friend close enough to want to do these things with, and that you might be able to finally have an out-of-work friend, too.

You never had anybody to go to nice restaurants with when you drove past them, or concerts when your favourite bands were in town, or even just someone to talk to on a lonely night. You wanted friends to buy Christmas presents for and birthdays other than your own to celebrate, and someone to be thankful for at Thanksgiving, and despite how much you’d resisted at first, with every passing week, it seemed more and more like Firehouse ‘21 and the team there were making themselves into that for you, breaking past your defences without even realising they were.

Brenda grabbed a cart from the line-up, the warm air washing over you both as the doors hissed open, and you paused at the entrance, staring around it all in mild awe as you tried to decide where to start.

“Wanna’ get that wine first, then?”

“Yep. The boys’ snacks can wait, I just saw a deal on Twizzlers.” She bolted ahead of you, leaving you in the dust for only a second, before you were forcing your feet into action, and following after her, all but stumbling as you went. She was in the candy aisle when you caught up with her, a packet of strawberry Twizzlers in one hand and raspberry in the other, seemingly weighing out the pros and cons of each one. “Which do you prefer?”

“I like both.” You shrugged, and she turned to look at you, a perfectly done brow raising at you.

“Yes, but which do you prefer?”

You grinned, taking the raspberry ones from her hand, waving it at her for a second, and you dumped it in the cart. The offer was getting a second one free to match, and so she dumped a matching packet of raspberry ones to follow, the two items sliding about in the base of the cart as she pushed a few metres further down the aisle.

“So, I’ll let you pick the wine, since we are having wine. Or, I’ll pick the wine, and you can drink beer with the men.” She gagged a little at the idea, and while neither would be your first choice on drinks, wine was infinitely better than beer. At least it tried to have flavour and be fruity, as opposed to beer, which you felt was more like a bitter assault on your mouth. She added a packet of Hershey’s Kisses to the cart, as well as some Reece’s Pieces and M&Ms. You weren’t sure where the two of you were supposed to put all of this, listening to her talk about snacks all the way around, until she was adding two tubes of Pringles and three packets of potato chips to the cart, placing all her hopes on Minho actually owning the rest of the ingredients to make nachos, and something within you doubted that he would, and so you slipped a jar of salsa dip in there too.

When you finally made it to the drinks aisle, you were staring up at the bottles on the shelf, information underneath like ‘dry’, ‘crisp’, ‘spiced’ and ‘aromatic’ that meant absolutely nothing to you, they all seemed exactly the same, just with different labels. You were relying on her for advice, brushing your hand over various bottles, to see which way she perked up in, up and down, left and right, as you searched for her favourite.

You felt like you were getting somewhere, subtle and discreet ways to find what she really wanted as you had no idea what to pick, when her phone rang, and you paused, turning to look at her as she fished it from her pocket, bringing the screen up to take a look, before answering the call.

“Hi, Min.”

You raised a brow, stepping away from the shelf for a second and trying to offer her a look as though to ask whether something as wrong, your heart dropping a little in your chest at the idea of it being cancelled, because in the short spell of time you’d been shopping with Brenda, you’d found yourself quite looking forward to the evening. Your question seemed to be conveyed well enough, because she shook her head, a small smile on her lips as you waited.

“We’re at the store. We’re, like, twenty minutes late. Relax.”

You were certain that you weren’t, you’d only been here for about twenty minutes, but as you searched for your phone, you found the time to read almost an hour later than when you’d entered, your jaw dropping a little as the time had flown past without you even noticing. The pair of you had bickered playfully all the way around, mumbled girl-talk as you wandered the store, and it wasn’t the same kind of forced conversation you were oh-so-used to providing, but it had been a genuine conversation that you’d enjoyed.

Brenda was chatting with Minho now, a softer smile on her face as the words went hushed, and your lips pursed, trying to hold in your smile as you watched the interaction, the bashful look on her face where she was normally so confident. You instead managed to busy yourself with looking back at the drinks again, trying to work out what any of the words staring back at you meant, and eventually, you settled on a bottle of rosé.

It felt like a middle ground, a compromise between red and white, couldn't be too far wrong, and it promised to be sweet and fruity, and that was probably the bet you were going to get out of the whole situation, so you placed a bottle on it down into the cart. The clinging of glass on metal caught her attention, and she turned around, glancing down at your selection before making a face, that was something you were going to take as mild approval, a mental pat on the back awarded to yourself, and she reached for a second bottle, your laugh muffled behind your hand as you watched her do so.  

“Yeah, okay, we’ll be there in, like, fifteen minutes. Tops.”

She hummed a little longer, Minho still talking on the end of the phone, before she finally hung open, putting away her phone, and pacing her hands on the edge of the cart. “Everything okay?”

“Totally, he just wanted to know when we were going to get there, everyone else has already arrived.” She shrugged it off as you grimaced, guiding the two of you towards the checkouts, and you eyed up all the available spots as you went, trying to decide whether or not it was appropriate for you to mention the little something you’d noticed in that call between her and Minho.

You felt like you were still nothing more than a coworker, but everything about the evening so far had suggested that you were a friend, and that was definitely a friendship kind of topic.

You would never know if you didn’t try, and if she shut you down on it, then you knew where you stood with her, but if you never bothered to try, then you’d never have any friends at all.

“So, you and Minho, huh?”

Her jaw dropped, turning to look at you for a second, before a smirk was taking over her features, and she was staring back ahead, setting herself up on the nearest conveyor-belt and beginning to unpack the groceries, with your help. “That’s nothing particular. We just.. hook up sometimes.”

You gasped, turning to look at her, your hands on your hips as she unpacked the last few items. “You scandalous little thing! With a coworker, no less!”

She feigned the same energy, placing a hand over her heart and the other over her forehead, letting out a heavy breath. “I know, practically sinful, whatever will I do?” The pair of you giggled, the cashier not paying any attention to either of you as the young boy began to check out the items, taking the tag from the bottle of wine and scanning each item through, the two of you trying to pack it all into paper bags before it piled up, keeping up with his speed. “Seriously, though, what do I do?”

“About Minho?”

“Yeah.” She whispered, and you nibbled on your lower lip, watching her punch her PIN into the card machine as she paid for the shopping, one bag in your arms and one in hers as you held onto everything. “It’s been going on or a while, and it’s casual, but, I kinda’ like being around him, all the time.”

She grabbed the receipt, the two of you turning to the door, and only a few steps later, stepping back out into the cold air, headed towards her car. “You like him in a date him kind of way?”

“Maybe.” She sighed glancing over at you for a second, a smile on her lips. “I mean, maybe that’s just the whole post-sex glow thing, and it’s always so normal at work. Normal in a totally-never-seen-you-naked kind of way, as if it never happened, and that feels right, too. I’m a little confused, I guess.”

“Well, maybe, you should just spend some time with him and work it out.” She gave you a look, waving the bag of groceries in her arms, before trying to find her keys to open up the vehicle as you neared it, and you scoffed. “I meant time alone, like, not with the whole team in the same room.”

She rolled her eyes a little, cheeks turning slightly pink as she thought about it, and the conversation seemed to end there, taking the bag from you and placing it into the trunk of her car. As you settled yourself back into the driver’s seat, she was a little more pensive, pulling out of her parking space and setting off on a drive you figured she knew well on her way to Minho’s house, the music of the radio playing to fill a comfortable silence.

It was an area of the city that you were unfamiliar with, not being much of an adventurer, spending most of your time at home when you could, because you never really had a reason to go out. You had nobody to visit, and no friends to take out anywhere, and so you didn't fern explore anywhere that wasn’t in the immediate couple of blocks to where you lived or worked, but now, you felt a little more like you had a reason to be curious about your city.

“He invited me to stay over, tonight.”

You perked up a little bit, shifting in your seta to look at her, and she kept her eyes on the road, but there was a sheepish smile on her face. “Yeah? What did you say?”

“I haven’t decided. I packed a few things in a bag, in case, but I’m not sure.” You glanced into the backseat, not having noticed the small back stashed beside the shopping until now, but a change of clothes and a phone charger was within, presumably with some other things, and you tried to cover up your excitement, bursting with joy for the woman beside you as she possibly took a step towards her happiness.

“You totally should.”

“Yeah?” She muttered, pulling up towards a fancy-looking apartment block, stopping at the barricade displayed underneath and punching in the code, before the barrier was lifting up, allowing you inside. Your building didn’t have that kind of measures on the parking lot, and you were a mix between excited and anxious to see where Minho lived. “What about you, though, how are you going to get home?”

“Not with you, that was for sure. You’re drinking, and you’re already a wild driver.” You teased, hearing her scoff, one hand freeing up to smack at your arm lightly, only furthering your amusement.

“I’m a great driver.”

“Yeah, for Formula One racing, maybe.” She hummed under her breath, rolling her eyes and making a point of swinging in a particularly fast and wide movement into a parking spot, making you squeal as you feared she was going to bump the car on each side or crash the car, and yet somehow, she managed not to do either of those things.  “You’re insane! I was planning to get a taxi, anyway, but now it’s confirmed.”

“I don’t want you getting in a cab alone.”

“I’ll be fine.” You shrugged, and she only stared at you a moment longer, her gaze seemingly getting more intense, and you squirmed a little bit, unclipping yourself and getting out of the car. She followed you, both doors slamming shut, before she was offering you a shopping bag, and changing her tactic from judgemental glares to puppy dog eyes, and you huffed, letting her lock the car and waiting for her to guide the way. “Would it make you feel better if I shared a cab with one of the boys on my way home?”

“It really would.”

“Then, I will. Just for you.” She beamed, blowing you a kiss from a few feet away as she rounded the car, and came up to your side to direct you to the building. There was a simple tune playing in the elevator as you rode up, the metal on the door shining and clean, the walls on either side of you were mirrors, and once you stepped out, the corridor was classy. Not the slightly tacky and vaguely 80’s looking carpet that most apartment buildings bought to line the halls because it as the cheapest option available on mass, but this was sleek, a dark grey colour to match pale grey walls, decorated with soft blue flowers along the way, and dark mahogany doors with golden lettering along each one.

Minho was number fifty-four, and you weren’t even sure which floor you were on but it was high up, you could tell from the view at the window near the end of the hall, and you were almost certain that the price of this apartment must be double the price simply because of the view. The door swung open only moments after Brenda had knocked, because Minho was standing before you both, and you groaned a little as you took him in.

“Do neither of you understand what comfy clothes means?”

Minho looked shocked for only a second, glancing down at himself, a pair of skinny jeans and a jumper that looked like it cost more than your entire outfit did, and he shrugged, making you feel a little insecure in your battered old hoodie that had a hole for a thumb and some loose threads. “This is comfy, thank you very much.”

“Yeah, sure it is.” You mumbled, adjusting the groceries in your arms, and he held the door open for you a little further. Brenda already knew her way around, that much was obvious from the way that she marched straight into the house, loud cheers from somewhere within lighting up from the rest of the team, a chorus of loud shouts and hollers of things along the lines of ‘finally!’ and ‘about time!’ making you grin a little at the group finally being complete. “You want me to just put these in your kitchen, then?”

“Yeah, sounds cool. Just, um, dump your shoes wherever, or keep them on if you want, and I can give you a little tour so you don’t get lost.”

“Your place is that big?” You grinned, stepping inside and toeing off your shoes to join the pile of assorted sneakers, boots and scattered slides that were on the floor. Before you were wandering along after Minho. The place really was that big, it was huge, actually, polished wooden floors along the corridors, and your place was almost entirely open plan, only a few doors, and yet Minho had walls to divide with real doors and low lighting that was intimate and fancy and it was all very impressive. “How the hell do you afford this place?”

“Only fans.” He sighed, glancing back at you over his shoulder, before snickering, and leading you into the large kitchen. An island in the middle, marble countertops and a shining coffee machine that looked like it belonged in a Starbucks sat in the corner, and you placed your bag down on the counter to match with Brenda’s, but had no idea where she’d gone. “I’m kidding, it’s not mine. It’s my grandma’s, she lives out of the city. I’m basically Monica Geller.”

“You went with Monica instead of choosing to be Ross? The guy?”

“Who the fuck wants to be Ross we-were-on-a-break Geller?” He teased, beginning to look through the bags, gasping a little as he pulled out the items stacking them up neatly, and grinning at the packet of Skittles he found that was clearly intended for him. “Thanks for coming, I’m glad you’re here.”

“If I’m being totally honest, I wasn’t going to.”

He looked up, raising a questioning brow at you as he prompted you to continue, and he tore open the packet of candy, tipping a few out into his hand and emptying them into his mouth from his palm, chewing as he waited for your answer.

“I feel like I’m invading. Like, you know when you’re having family dinner and your sibling invites their friend to stay without telling anyone and then nobody has any fun because you really want to eat a third bread roll and burp out loud but you can’t because you don’t want to embarrass your sibling and so everyone is on their best behaviour and it sucks?” He stared at you for a second, amusement flickering over his features, before he was nodding his head. “Well, I feel like the sibling’s friend who senses how uncomfortable it all is and knows they’ve messed everything up and now wishes they’d just gone home for their own dinner.”

“Well, I don’t think you’ve messed anything up, and I promise, if you burp out loud then I will burp as well so that you’re not alone.”

“You can’t just burp on command, but thanks for the offer.” You teased, watching as he turned to reach for two glasses, shining glass that made you fear touching it just in case you smashed it.

“Uh, I absolutely fucking can, wanna’ see?”

“No, not reall-”

He cut you off, a loud burp echoing aloud the kitchen, and you grimaced at the sound of the belch before he was making it again. You gagged falsely, turning your face away from him, and he did it again, laughing around himself, before he was continuing to go on, and you scoffed at him.

“Stop it! You’re awful, that is disgusting.”

“You asked for it!” He shouted back, belching again, and you groaned loudly, Chuck entering the kitchen right as Minho let out yet another loud burp.

“Chuck! Make him stop!”

“I just came in here for a drink.” He raised his hands in a surrender, and you rolled your eyes at the pair of them, watching as Chuck open the fridge, searching around for the bottle opener as he pulled back two fresh lagers, condensation forming on the glass as soon a they met the warm temperature of the room, and you worked on the cork in the top of your wine bottle until it came out with a ‘pop’.

“Are you even old enough to drink?”

Minho laughed, loudly, and Chuck scowled at you as he released the metal sealing from the glass, and the other, and you lifted the first glass to begin to fill it with wine. “Yes, I am old enough, thank you. I’m twenty-two in a few months.”

“Aw, cutie.” You teased, pinching at his cheek and he smacked your hand away, diverting to the other room, and leaving you to fill the second glass. You did happen to notice that Chuck was wearing a normal person’s version of comfy clothes, though; a pair of baggy sweatpants and a t-shirt, and you sighed a little in relief. At least Minho and Brenda would make the world’s most stylish couple when together. “Alright, Minho, you promised me a tour of your fancy bachelor pad.”

“Bachelor pad? I like that!” He grinned, and you grabbed the two glasses of wine, sticking a packet of raspberry Twizzlers into your pockets before the two of you were setting off, and he was guiding you through the halls. He didn’t need to show you much, just vaguely pointing to what was behind each door, an office he used as a home gym, the laundry room, his bedroom - to which you didn’t fail to spot Brenda’s bed sitting out on the covers, but did resist mentioning - and then the bathroom.

Guiding you back through, large double doors that slide along the wall were pulled open, revealing the group inside. Brenda grinned as she saw you, lounging on a large chair, big enough for multiple people, and Minho took one of the glasses from your hands as he made his way over to her, offering up a glass of wine and sitting down in the chair alongside her, and she grinned at you a little bashfully as she remained calm. You liked being in on a little secret with her, on knowing something the other’s didn’t it made you feel a little less like you were on the outside but instead like you were being brought into the warmth from the cold.

There were several seats you could choose from. Cushions and blankets were laid out along the floor, the coffee table pushed aside, and you could sit between Fry and Newt on the floor, leaning back against the couch with plenty of space available to you, or you could find a seat beside Chuck, who was sitting cross-legged in front of the TV, a stack of DVDs beside him, but your back was already aching at the thought of sitting up straight for so long.

The final seat was on the cushions of one couch beside Thomas. He was leaning at an angle, Gally on his other side, a space between them both and you immediately felt your walls shoot back up at the mere idea of sitting with him, but the couch looked so inviting, and there was space, and you did want to try and make headway on that truce that the two of you had called, so you gave in. Making your way over to him, you made sure to ruffle newt’s hair as you passed him by, avoiding the way he was slapping at your hands and growling a little mid-conversation there, before he was returning to what he was saying.

Pausing in front of the man who was slumped over and texting on his phone, and you cleared your throat a little. “Can I sit with you?”

His eyes flicked down to the space that he was half-leaning over into, before nodding his head, and you sat down as he moved, feeling the tension building once again. Taking a tentative sip of your wine, you found that the drink wasn’t all that bad, while it may not be your favourite choice you certainly weren’t hating it, and you took another gulp to try and drown out the tension.

Leaning down and balancing your glass on the floor, out of the way of anyone that might get in the way, you moved onto pulling the packet of Twizzlers from your pocket, you tore it open, pulling one out and placing it between your teeth to take a light bite from it. Holding up the packet, you tried to be friendly again, the plastic crinkling as you lifted it. “You want one?”

He glanced, eyes flickering over the packet, before licking his lips, flicking up minutely at the sides. “Uh, yeah. Thanks.” You nodded, letting him pluck one from the packet, before he was looking back down to the phone screen, and taking a large bite out of it, and you sighed a little.

You took a breath, preparing an attempt at making conversation once again, but he didn’t even look up, not even a flinch for you, and so your jaw snapped shut again, turning away to eat your candy as you gave up on even trying at a tenuous alliance with him, the possibility of week friendship seeing to fly out of the window.

Crossing your legs underneath you on the couch, you pulled the sleeves of your hoodie down over your hands, rubbing at them anxiously as you looked around.

“I like your hoodie.”

You jumped a little, entirely startled by his voice beside you, and your head twisted back to look at him, brows raised slightly as he actually spoke to you, and you glanced down at it, the faded blue and orange logo across the front barely visible anymore, you’d had it so long. “You’re a Mets fan?”

“Long suffering.” He shrugged, sitting up a little further, and he clicked his phone off, pushing it into the pocket of his sweatpants. “You know, maybe one day, we’ll be fortunate enough to catch a full game without getting interrupted for a call.”

“What, with our houses’ luck? You’re swinging big there.” You teased, and he grinned, a small laugh leaving him, before he was reaching over to the packet sitting in your lap and taking two more of the soft candy-sticks from within, and offering one to you, before tearing a large chunk from his own with his teeth.

“Go big or go home, right?”

“I suppose so.” You sighed, chewing on your treat as he sat up a little more, his eyes sweeping over your face, and down over your shoulders, and you felt a little nervous under his gaze.

The armour of professionalism that was usually so securely constructed around you was crumbled down. Uniform and tight ponytail made it easy to frown and put up walls and treat everybody like strangers because they knew no other side of you, but now you were exposed, like an open wound. It was all traded for soft hair that fell around your shoulders and a small smile from the joy of the evening so far, clear skin and comfortable clothes and nothing that helped you man the defences, and so you hummed subconsciously, his gaze snapping back to your own as you made the sound.

Leaning down again, you collected your glass, bringing it to your lips and taking a sip, swirling the contents around in the glass as you swallowed, because you couldn't stand the scrutinising gaze he was putting you under, fear creeping in.

“You look nice.”

It wasn’t what you’d been expecting, your sights finding him once again, soft brown eyes fixed on yours as he shrugged a little, the pink on his cheeks from the warmth of the room growing a little darker, but he smiled nonetheless.

“Y’know, with your hair down and everything.” His fingers came up, wrapping lightly around the tips of a strand of hair, playing with it for a split second, before his hand and his gaze was falling away once again, and you flushed with heat as you felt yourself at a loss for words, unsure how to approach him as a regular person, and not as the Lieutenant who hated you, and it seemed that honesty was the best way.

“You’re not as scary when you’re not in uniform.”

“You thought I was scary?” He echoed, an indiscernible look passing over his features, and you nodded your head, the truth undeniable.

“Absolutely terrifying.” You downed what was left in your glass, wishing you had gotten more as it came up empty, and you were going to need more alcohol to get you through this conversation and this night, because the slight buzz you were barely beginning to feel was doing nothing to help your nerves.

Getting to your feet, you excused yourself, headed back towards the kitchen to find a refill, and as you locate the bottle sitting in the fridge, someone clearly having put it away at some point, you brought it back out, pouring double the contents of your original potion into the glass, taking a large drink from it and topping it back up. As another pair of footsteps entered the kitchen, you jumped, almost dropping the glasses in your hands with shock, and turning to push the fridge closed, still holding the bottle.

“Jeez, Thomas, you scare the hell out of me.”

“You were scared of me?” He questioned again, arms crossing over his chest, and your eyes flicked down to them, the tone in his voice taking on the same flat and commanding aspect that it did when he was in the field and making calls, and he seemed to take the hint, his arms dropping again and shoulder slouching. “I thought we just argued. Now I feel even worse.”

“It’s not your fault. Well, it is, but-” He frowned as you spoke, and you only continued to fumble with your words. “Look, I was being a bitch, alright? And you were being a bitch too, but it’s different. I was a bitch who needs a second paramedic to lift the stretcher bar onto the frame when it had someone on, you were a bitch who can bench press, like, two hundred pounds and can kick in a front door. Big men scare women, it’s just a fact.”

That didn’t seem to help, he only seemed to slump down a little further, and you sealed your lips into a thin line.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m not scared of you now. It’s just.. tense.” He sighed, reaching out and taking the glass of wine from your hands, before taking that to his mouth, and chugging a good half of the glass, before hanging it back, and grimacing a little.

“I hate wine.” You only laughed a little under your breath, the back of his hand travelling over his mouth as he wiped it clear. “I don’t want you to be scared of me, and it really sucks that you were, because I’d never hurt you. Or anyone, really.”

“It was more scary in an I’m-being-yelled-at-by-someone-twice-my-size way, not that I thought you’d ever.. do that..” You sighed, placing the bottle and the glass down on the counter, and leaning back against it, your head dropping to rest in your hands. “I fucked it all up again, already.”

You heard him move, the thought that he may just leave crossing over your mind, but fingers wrapped around your wrists, pulling them away from your face, and stepping back as your hand dropped to your side. He only stood a couple of feet from you, staring down at you with wide eyes that were full of nothing but sorrow, and you felt terrible for having put that emotion there in the first place.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin the night.”

“I’m sorry for yelling at you on the first day, and making you scared about working with me.” He shrugged, silence falling between you both again. “For the record, you are worth it.”

Your breath hitched in your lungs a little, the compliment meaning more to you than he could possibly know, yet he seemed to sense it, moving forwards by a fraction of an amount as he deemed it safe and acceptable to do so.

“I know what I said on that day was unfair, and you’ve proven me wrong, countless times.” A large hand found your shoulder, slipping down until he was squeezing at your forearm lightly, and there was a burn in the back of your throat threatening tears if you weren't careful. “You’re great at your job, and I think you’re a real asset to the team, and we’re lucky to have you.”

“Well, shit, now I feel bad for tricking you into saying you have a small dick.”

He laughed, loudly, and the sound you let out to match cracked a little bit, but it gave you a second’s reprieve to sniff away your emotions, choking them down as you tried to get it under control. “I got deep with you and that’s what you want to say?”

“I’m not good with the deep stuff!”

“Clearly!” He sighed, his hand dropping from your arm to wipe over his face as he looked more entertained than upset now, and you shrugged. “Okay, how about this. Let’s just start over, alright? You don’t need to feel tense around me, and I promise that you never have to worry about me hurting you. I wouldn’t do that.”

You paused, staring up at him, searching for any hint of a lie, before giving in, and raising your hand between your bodies. His palm slipped against your own, shaking it as though the pair of you were meeting for the first time, and he cracked a grin at the action. Your name fell from your lips, introducing yourself to him, and he followed suit, offering his name in return, and you felt like the past was truly being washed away this time, something you could let go of, watching it float away downstream in water under the bridge.

“Hey, you two gonna’ come join us for movie night, or are you going to spend the evening holding hands in the kitchen?”

Newt tapped his hands on the doorframe, a wicked grin on his face, and you were about to protest, before realising your hand was still clasped in Thomas’, and your mouth was dry as you found yourself at a loss for words. Dropping his hand, you grabbed at the bottle you’d left and the glass, deciding to just take both with you, and Thomas laughed a little as he followed behind, hand shifting to sit on your lower back as he fell into step behind you.

Newt flopped back down into his seat on the floor in front of the couch, and as you moved to navigate through the hoards filling the floors, a hand grabbed your wrist, bringing you to a halt, and you stumbled a little as Thomas crashed into you from the sudden pause, finding Brenda looking up at you with a grin and holding her glass out, half of the content missing.

The man beside you moved past, going to take his seat once again, and you topped her glass up, your own following, before clinking it against hers and grinning at the loud ‘cheers’ she let out as you did, before taking a sip to match her.

“Told you I’d have you converted over to wine in no time.”

“I chose this bottle, don’t you forget.” You winked, backing up a little bit as she settled back into the cushions, her shoulder pressing up to Minho’s side, and you smiled softly at the causal interaction between them both.

“Yeah, well, next time it’ll be me picking, and I’ll have you drinking the good stuff!”

You scoffed, knowing her insult in your taste was a joke, and probably well-founded, because you had no idea what ‘good wine’ consisted of, choosing instead to wander away and take your seat, trying not to spill your drink on anyone as you went.

Gally shuffled up the couch a little further as you approached, and Newt was blocking your seat, and when you nudged him with your toes, his only response was grinning up at you cheekily as he stretched his legs out in front of himself on the carpet; clearly a refusal to move as you were challenged with clambering past him to get to the cushions.

Thomas chuckled, holding his hands out for the bottle and the glass you held as he placed his own down on the table beside the end of the couch, what looked like whiskey in a tumbler, with a couple of half-melted ice-cubes floating in the liquid that matched the colour of his eyes. You handed them off to him, watching as he placed the bottle down on the counter, holding your glass in his other hand as one arm stretched out along the back of the couch, an amused look on his face as you tried to step past Newt.

Each time you lifted your foot up, blocking you off again, and you stumbled a little, trying to hold your balance and not fall into the crowded mass around the floor as you went, a collection of laughs beginning to bubble up as you became the centre of attention. Chuck was fiddling with the remotes on the TV, and Gally had offered a stabilising hand out to you, the fingers of one of your hands was wrapped around his forearm as you giggled, trying to simply sit down.

“You gonna’ take a seat so we can watch, or are you just going to stand there?”

You glared at Newt, unable to hold the smile off of your face for long, before you were bursting with giggles once again, almost falling, and clinging to Gally for support. “Well, if someone would get out of my way, I’d be able to!”

“I’m not doing anything!” Your blond partner insisted, crossing his arms over his chest and sitting back down normally without blocking any space off, and you thought you’d finally get away with it, and you lifted a leg to step over him and try and fold a leg against the cushions to sit down. Once you were balanced on one foot, though, he acted, raising up to pinch at the back of your knee, the leg still on the floor going weak, and you fell.

You toppled forwards, half landing against Gally and half in the cushions as you tried to swerve, a yelp being cut off as you hit the couch, and he continued to pinch at your leg, making you jerk the limb away from him and crawl up the couch, snatching it back from him as the contact tickled, until your back was pressed to Thomas’ side and you were kicking at Newt’s hand, the laughter in the room fading away as you swiped at your friend.

“There we go, now was that so hard?”

“You are the devil, Newt.” You hissed, lunging for him a little as he stuck his tongue out at you playfully, and you placed a hand behind you, one pushing on the couch cushions, the other on Thomas’ knee as you pushed forwards, an arm wrapping around your waist to hold you backwards as Newt cracked up, and your own laughter came bubbling up.

Yanked back down into your seat, Thomas slipped his arm free, letting it spread back out along the couch, and handing you the glass of wine. Your face was flushed with warmth, energy fizzling through you, and you took a sip, cooling yourself with the cold drink. You mumbled your thanks to Gally for his support, the opening credits of the movie loading up, and you settled back, still slightly pressed into the side of your new allegiance as you tried to catch your breath.

Stretching out a little, your leg fell over Newt’s shoulder, crooking at the knee, and he reached a hand up to sit on your ankle, squeezing a little in comfort before the room was falling quiet, Minho dimming the lights down, and Chuck began to explain the movie he was watching.

Your heart was still racing, and yet you’d never felt more comfortable. There was no bad energy in the room, you didn’t feel uncomfortable with Thomas sitting beside you, you didn’t feel excluded or left out, you simply felt loved and accepted. For the first time in your life, you truly felt like you belonged.

[keeroo92]

Be My Nightmare Ch16

Fight and Flight

Warnings for gore, in depth description of invasive surgical procedures and murder.

Word count - 4,290

~~~Previous Chapter~~~

---------

Your hand trembled around the slim handle of the knife. This was a choice you could not reverse, an action that had no path back. You had to be certain there was no other way, that this was what you really wanted.

What do I want?

“Where’d you find that loser, anyway?”

Your kin scratched his ass and wandered back to the living area, plopping onto your couch and reaching for the remote. As if he lived here, as if he weren’t an invader. As if he was welcome in your life. What you wouldn’t give to have him disappear... 

...I could make that happen.

You caught your breath. It would be so easy, to just sink the blade deep into his gut and twist. Tear his body open and watch the light fade from his eyes. Even thinking about it gave you goosebumps.

But you weren’t a murderer. What was wrong with you, having such dark thoughts? Not to mention enjoying the visuals. No, killing your father wasn’t the answer. There had to be another way. 

Maybe I can incapacitate him somehow?

“Whasamatter, cat got your tongue?”

You pursed your lips and forced your hand to relax, releasing the blade from your iron grip. There was one alternative, though it was extremely risky. It might even end up killing him anyway, but there was a chance he’d survive. Manslaughter, not murder.

You couldn’t think of anything else and you didn’t have time to waste. Every second that passed was one more that V could’ve been caught, could’ve started spilling all your secrets. The knife wouldn’t do. A more precise tool was required. 

“Something like that,” you replied at last, opening a nearby drawer that held your prize. Voices on the television faded in the wake of the dull roar resounding in your ears. 

No more hiding. 

A grunt of acknowledgement was your only response. Your fingertips closed on cool metal and you shuddered, knowing the dark history of the procedure you had to perform. So much could go wrong, but what else could you do? 

Sliding the drawer closed, you took a moment to prepare. The rage and pain of V’s sudden departure, the fury and resentment you held for your father, the itching desire to break free… All your distorted emotions spread out like a buffet of misery. They would only distract you. Unacceptable - focus was imperative. 

One by one, you visualized them in your grasp. Tufts of pain and threads of mirth, strings of shame and rebellion all went inside an imaginary steel box, the lid too heavy for the pesky things to break free. The storm inside calmed with each addition to the box, and as you mentally clicked a padlock in place, a sense of calm descended upon you.

It’s time.

Steady feet carried you to stand behind your father. The patch of baldness on the crown of his reclined head was barely disguised by greasy strands of brown and the light of the screen added a blueish pallor to his skin, as if he were a corpse. 

In a few moments, he very well might be.

“Breaking news - an escaped killer believed to be responsible for the recent killings downtown has been spotted near the financial district. The police are in pursuit and shots have been fired. Law enforcement is advising residents to stay indoors and call immediately if you see the suspect.”

Your stomach sank as an image of V popped up on the screen, green eyes sparkling over a twisted smirk. Shots fired. Police in pursuit. Could this possibly get any worse?

“Holy shit… holy shit, your boyfriend’s a murderer?!”

You just had to ask.

The incredulous eyes of your father met yours, his lips spreading into a sly grin. No doubt the bastard was already imagining ways to use this to his advantage, force you to do whatever he wanted. Harness your mind for nothing more than gambling, all the while treating you like a pile of dog shit he had to scrape from his shoes. It almost made you laugh.

Not this time, dad.

“Yes, he is,” you replied.

And then you slammed the handle of your tool into his temple as hard as you could. 

His expression went slack, a thin trickle of blood trailing from where you split the skin. A quick check of his pulse revealed a thready but stable heartbeat. Perfect.

You angled his head and lined up the slim metal stick. Last chance to change your mind. It was a longshot that you could pull this off properly; you’d never done it before and research only helped so much. The slightest mistake may lead to patricide. Not to mention the risk of infection; your apartment wasn’t exactly a sterile operating room. The best case scenario meant the obliteration of his personality. 

Courts could only charge me with manslaughter, not murder. I’m not a murderer.

You took a deep breath and steadied your hands. There was no time, he could wake at any moment and the longer V had to run, the more likely he’d be captured. The moral ramifications could wait. Consequences be damned.

The metal chopstick slid past your father’s right eye with ease to tap at the frontal bone hiding behind it. Tiny blood vessels surrounding his eye socket burst from the pressure, lines of red that would turn black by the end. With the heel of your unoccupied palm, you struck the chopstick, over and over until the bone gave way with a sickening crack. It didn’t take much - the bone was thin. 

You felt the slightest resistance before his brain tissue gave way. It was softer than you would’ve expected, easy to tear through. Like a tender piece of steak, the meat falling off the bone. The chopstick slid forward as if it had always been there, embedded in your father’s eye socket.

“Here goes nothing…” you whispered.

With a gentle twist, you rotated the utensil forty degrees and wiggled it, severing neurons with every motion as you approached the midline. Trickling blood leaked from the entry point, but not much. It truly was an extraordinary technique, somehow both invasive and not. Simple, yet effective. Grotesque, yet elegant.

The perfect punishment for the misdeeds of your blood.

You spent several minutes ripping away the connections between the frontal lobe and the thalamus. It didn’t have to be perfect, nor did you expect it to be. All you could hope for was that it was enough to prevent him from reporting you to the cops. 

But you wouldn’t know for sure until he woke up.

Which could happen at any time. I’d better hurry.

The left eye went much more quickly, your wrist already learning the motions needed to do the job. You paused to check his pulse, finding it racing but steady. About what you would’ve expected for someone undergoing brain surgery.

One last wiggle of the metal instrument and you sighed. Surely that would be enough? How long was this supposed to take? How did you know when you were done?

Doesn’t matter. I have to get moving.

You withdrew the chopstick at the same angle as the initial entry, cringing at the quiet slurp when it came loose. Blood coated the metal, and a few greyish particles you’d rather not think about. A scent similar to egg whites and copper tinted the air. How long should you wait before leaving him to his fate? Whatever the result of your procedure, there wasn’t much you could do for him now.

Five minutes, then I go. Just to see if he stops bleeding from his eyes.

You set a timer on your watch and spent the scant seconds gathering the essentials, papers and clothing, food and water. The items you were sure to need if you followed through with the barely cognizant plan still forming in your mind. How had it come to this?

It didn’t matter. The reality was that your old life was gone, and there was no turning back now. You were past the point of no return, had been for days. The second you decided to help the murderous artist at the museum instead of turn him in, you had made your choice. 

Your watch chimed; time to go. You had everything you truly needed, the essentials snugly arranged in your old university backpack. The worn out straps slid home across your shoulders as you approached your father for what was most likely the last time. 

“Dad? Can you hear me?”

His eyes were still closed, drying lines of blood lining his cheeks. Purple bruises marked where you’d done your work, dark shadows not unlike a black eye. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest seemed almost normal. At the very least, you hadn’t killed him outright.

You pursed your lips and shook his shoulder. It would be best if you knew how coherent he was before leaving. 

“Hnnn… what happened…?” he murmured. 

Language center intact; a good sign. Hopefully.

“You okay, dad? You passed out,” you replied. 

He blinked owlishly, the bruises a stark contrast against the whites of his eyes. His gaze was clear, but something was gone from his expression. “I think so, just got a headache.”

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

A wrinkled hand rose to pinch his nose, smearing the blood still wetting his face. He paused and stared at the red streaks, perplexed but not alarmed. “You were behind me, and the news was on… saying something about that guy of yours?”

Memory and basic motor function intact; that could be good or bad. You took a seat beside him and feigned nonchalance, forcing yourself to portray calmness. If he still planned to take advantage of the situation, what were you going to do? If a damned lobotomy didn’t do the trick, how far were you ready to go?

“He’s in trouble, yeah? Huh… did he hurt someone? But he seemed nice enough...”

The confusion would fade in time. If you’d done the procedure right, the inability to make decisions would not. Only time would tell, and you’d wasted enough. He was alive and able to speak, you’d have to take your chances on the rest.

“Yeah, something like that. Listen, I gotta go for a while but make yourself at home.”

The words were bitter on your tongue, but if he left… no doubt he’d cause trouble. The man had a knack for it. Even just a few minutes of his oddly calm demeanor was a shocking contrast to his normal attitude. Had he ever gone this long without insulting you or implying your lack of worth? You didn’t think so. That had to be a good sign, right? That his emotions were no longer able to influence his decisions?

Whatever. Good enough. 

“Okay, hon. See ya later,” he replied. “Love you.”

You forgot how to breathe for a moment. Words you’d never heard him speak until now, uttered so casually as if they meant nothing. You should have lobotomized him years ago. Maybe then you wouldn’t be so broken, wouldn’t have ended up chasing after a serial killer. 

Doesn’t matter. Time to go.

With a final nod at the man you called father, you stood and headed for the door, swiping V’s beanie from the coffee table almost as an afterthought. What came next, you weren’t entirely sure. All you knew was that your career was dead and your friendships (if you could even call them that) were built on lies, and the only person who spoke truth to you was out there, running for his life and being shot at.  

~~~V~~~

The soles of his shoes slapped against pavement as V ran, pumping his legs as fast as possible. Both Griffon and Vergil howled at him to turn around, go back to where he was safe and hidden, but he ignored them. Besides, the police wouldn’t catch him unless he allowed it. They were fools and he, a genius.

He didn’t bother trying to hide as he darted past the vehicle, instead focusing on speed. His options were limited, damn he should've held onto that knife, but he could manage. 

Mere seconds passed before the blaring siren erupted behind him. He didn’t look back; it would only slow him down. With his eyes trained forward he’d be better able to spot a way to elude the idiots in blue.

“This is the police! Stop and put your hands up!”

Not likely.

He vaulted over a picket fence, landing on his feet and dashing off again. How foolish he’d been to hide in the first place, playing house with you as if he could ignore his calling. Idiocy, he should’ve known better than to believe there might be someone who could share his dreams. A companion would be nice, but it wasn’t necessary. He didn’t need you.

He simply wanted you.

Faster, Van Gogh! We gotta book it!

The artist didn’t respond, too busy panting as he slid under a decorative banner. Apparently, the fishing festival was coming to town. 

“I said stop!”

He almost rolled his eyes. If the fools didn't wield guns, he’d already have them by the throat. However, without a weapon of his own a direct confrontation was suicide. Running was his best option, until he could arm himself. Even a length of pipe would do, he didn’t have the luxury of being picky.

A soft grunt slipped from his lips as he shoved aside a passing civilian, trying to throw the confused imbecile into the police officers’ path as he fled. Perhaps he ought to shatter a window and use the glass to rip them apart? No, it would take too long.

If only he’d had more time, spent his energy on learning the area and all its hidden secrets instead of on luring you to his side. A city this size always had shortcuts and navigational oddities, things he could’ve exploited to hasten his escape. Instead, he had to improvise. Street traffic wouldn’t be enough to lose his pursuers.

Can’t risk taking an alley; I don’t know which are dead ends. The roofs, perhaps? No, nowhere to hide…

He palmed a sign pole, spinning to change direction and sprinting off once again, his breath a staccato rhythm matching his steps. The police siren blared behind him, blue and red lighting the brickwork to his left as the vehicle’s tires squealed through the sharp turn, straight through a red light. Ordinary folk stared at the spectacle, wide eyed and sheeplike in their foolishness. Soon enough, they would learn the truth. 

“Stop or we will open fire!”

The artist dared to glance over his shoulder, gauging the likelihood of the threat coming to pass. The police cruiser was less than two car lengths behind him, and the officer in the passenger seat had his weapon drawn, muzzle pointed to the sky but clearly at the ready. He’d have less than an instant to dodge. Far from ideal…

He growled and wove his way between passerby, doing what he could to shelter in their wake. If this was to be his technique, he needed to find a more populated area. The wrong choice spelled his doom. Which way, which way?

A crack of thunder split the sky, yelps of alarm echoing a beat behind. The idiotic onlookers crouched and covered their heads, fear twisting their features as they tried not to get in the way. A harsh chill danced up V’s spine.

He’d seen faces like this before. 

Don’t think about it, this isn’t the time. Just keep moving.

Sweat prickled his brow, goosebumps breaking out across his bare forearms. Images of blood and terror filled his mind. The past was not so easily ignored. 

“V, what the hell?! Get down!”

He gritted his teeth and ran on. Dwelling on Nero was the opposite of helpful now, he needed to focus. Every step he took could be his last taste of freedom, if he wasn’t careful. Isolating the officers would be the first step, but how?

Jade eyes continuously scanned the street as the artist ran on, forcing himself not to stop despite the growing fatigue tugging at his limbs. A dead sprint was not easy to maintain, but he had no choice. Just a little longer, an opportunity would present itself soon. It had to.

“Take care of her…”

He shook off the memory. Someone screamed as another crack of thunder echoed through the air. V forced his legs to keep going, keep running until he found a way to fight, but he couldn’t go much longer. Soon, he would have no choice. The human body had its limits, he knew that better than most.

Salvation took the form of a subway entrance, graffitied and smelling of human piss and sweat. He didn’t hesitate, taking the stairs three at a time and vaulting over the turnstile without looking back. Every second counted. 

The telltale rumble of an approaching train fanned the flames of hope in his heart. Almost free, just a few heartbeats more and he could pause, catch his breath. The only disappointment would be the lack of blood left in the wake of his flight, but perhaps it wasn’t too late for that. Being stuck in a metal tube full of idiotic commuters might be just what he needed to forget the sting of leaving you behind.

He followed a group of nearby civilians, letting them lead him to the tracks as shouts echoed down the stairwell. A young woman smiled at him as he passed, her hair a pale reflection of your auburn and slate locks. He should slit her throat for daring to look him in the eye, but there was no time. 

There - a voice, announcing the impending arrival of his freedom.

“710 to North Riverside, now arriving on track A.”

He paused and scanned the signs above, clever eyes finding his target quickly. Left, then right and down. Almost there. The subway would carry him to safety, set him free to pursue his work once more. It may even serve as a backdrop, get his mind back where it needed to be.

Focused on his masterpiece.

The horde of lambs surrounding him thickened as he neared the platform, the cries of his pursuers fading away in the chatter of the masses. They discussed meaningless drivel, the actions of famous fools and the latest news about fashion. As if there were nothing of higher importance; the artist curled his lip in disgust. Hopefully, a few of them would board his train and be his latest canvases. Their bleached hair and perfectly made up faces held such potential, how delightful they would be twisted into agony. Their painted lips frozen in grimaces, their eyes forever wide with fear… 

Focus! We are not yet safe.

V grunted and shoved past men in suits carrying briefcases and slipped between distracted students, their textbooks heavy on their backs. He wove his way closer until at last, his feet moved from the stone platform to the metal tube that would save him. Still, even aboard the subway he didn’t dare relax. There may yet be those nearby who could capture him, or those who would do him harm. No, not until his work was complete could he afford to be lax. 

As the subway screeched into motion, he made his way forward to the next cabin. Few of his fellow travelers paid him any mind, but all it took was one. His eyes swept across every face as he moved, ever watchful for his next canvas or a sign of recognition. Another cabin, then two, until he could go no further and only eight souls shared his air. Still too many for his liking, but he grasped a pole and held tight for balance anyway.

“Next stop, 21st Avenue Station.”

A pair of youthful faces on his left shifted, their bodies not far behind as they prepared to disembark. Two down, how many to go? Six? Depending on their temperament he may be able to slaughter them all.

The artist bent his knees as the momentum shifted, the cabin slowing to a stop. A soft chime sounded from the overhead speakers a moment before the doors opened, releasing passengers and inviting new ones aboard. 

“Nobody move! This is the police!”

Oh, no…

Adrenaline once again flooded his blood as V watched two figures in blue board, holding out badges as they scanned the cabin. Of course they’d followed him; it can’t have been hard to determine which line he took. There were only so many, after all. 

“What’s happening?” asked a spectacled passenger in a fancy business suit. “You’re going to make me late for my board meeting!”

The officers barely glanced at him. V lowered his face and feigned disinterest, yet his entire body was coiled and ready to spring. If they came close enough, there would be no escape. All he had to do was wait; his prey would do the hard part for him, then he could make his escape. 

“We have reason to believe a fugitive is on board. Has anyone seen this man?”

Just a little closer…

Freshly polished black shoes entered his field of view, their every step echoing like war drums in the artist’s skull. His fingers tingled in anticipation, visions of crimson dancing behind his half-closed lids. Goosebumps erupted across his body and he drew in a shaky breath, his need almost too powerful to bear. Only the knowledge of impending satisfaction kept him from losing his composure and striking too soon. 

“Are you people serious? Clearly I’m not a fugitive, why can’t I leave?” the irate businessman crowed.

A thin smirk twisted the artist’s lips. If the man continued, he may become a useful distraction. 

“Sir, please calm down. We’ll have you out of here as soon as we can,” replied one of the officers, a young man by the sound of his voice. 

“But ‘soon’ isn’t now. You see the issue?”

The shiny black shoes turned; the officer now faced the foolish man. Perfect.

Ebony hair fluttered as V bolted forward, snarling as he slammed the closer officer’s skull against the pole he’d moments ago held for balance. A sickening crunch rewarded his efforts and the blue-clad man crumpled to the ground bonelessly as blood leaked from the fresh indent in his head.

The passengers cursed and screamed, horrified expressions only serving to feed V’s bloodlust. He spun, making a circle in the growing bloodstain with his toes as he faced his next adversary, a blond officer not much older than himself. A fool, seeking justice in a world that granted none. If only he knew the truth.

No matter - soon enough, they would all see. 

The officer’s shaking hands struggled to release his firearm, panic clear in the dilation of his widened grey eyes. Still, the weapon cracked as the lad squeezed the trigger, spewing death to any who were unfortunate enough to be in its haphazard path.

The artist ducked, moving faster than he should've been able to as he avoided lethal hits. A single bullet pierced his thigh but he ignored it - he’d seen worse and the victims had kept fighting. It would dishonor their memory if he faltered now.

Instead, he bolted closer to his assailant, wrapping his long fingers around the poor young man’s neck to slam his delicate skull against the thick glass behind him. A smear of red marked the point of impact, the only remnant of his final breath. 

With the immediate threat resolved, V smirked at the crowd and waited, content to revel in their horror. It mattered not whether his remaining foes chased him down or wandered into his path unaware, the end result would be the same. Crimson, a massive swatch of life blood decorating the walls and floors of the subway. Reminding those who used it that the transport was built on the spines of slaves. Nothing to be proud of. 

“Run,” he growled.

The terrified group gaped at him, eight souls too shocked to realize they were free. Eight new voices to spread his message, to tell the tale of an unarmed man taking down two police officers bare handed. The thought brought a wicked grin to his face and he licked his lips, catching the taste of scarlet on his tongue. Delicious.

He raised an eyebrow at the nearest passenger, a young woman on a seat whose pants featured a wet stain between her legs. Terrified tears streaked her perfectly applied blush, dark with her runny mascara. “Now, little lamb.”

She trembled but managed to rise, her shaky legs carrying her to the platform and to the relative safety it offered. The other seven witnesses weren’t far behind her, all of them staring at him as they fled the scene. Alone at last, V surveyed his handiwork. Two dead police officers, not much of a mess but enough to whet his appetite. 

If only he had the time to properly utilize their corpses. He’d yet to create a public display, and it excited him to imagine the far-flung reach such a bold act would elicit. They would whisper his name to their children, tell tales of his deeds and fear the dark as they always should have, these people. These sheep.

But he couldn't afford to linger, and there would be other chances. It was beyond time to refocus on his goal, his masterpiece. Enough tomfoolery. 

V smirked as he stepped to the still open door, pausing to pick up a discarded or forgotten cell phone. No doubt it would prove useful in his exploits. He couldn’t wait to get started.

~~~~Next Chapter~~~~

[kaistarus]

Clickbait--Chapter 4

Summary: A lot of great things came with being a big name YouTuber, but along with those perks were some serious drawbacks. One of the biggest being a lack of personal privacy. Due to just one video, Kirishima’s least well-kept secret has become a viral sensation overnight, and now he has to deal with the repercussions from both the YouTube community and the public. Hopefully, those he’s dragging down with him won’t mind…

Pairing: Kiribaku

Words: 3,990

Notes: Ya’ know when life and college happen? Anyway, I have full intentions to finish this story. It’s all plotted out, so don’t worry about me falling off the face of the earth :) I had a lot of fun with this chapter. I hope it was worth the wait! Read the full story here

Kirishima stood stunned at his front door. He refused to believe that Bakugou Katsuki was standing mere feet away on the other side of that false wood. How could it be that Bakugou would choose the day Kirishima had run out of laundry to show up at his home uninvited? The pair of his questionably clean Mysteries Unsolved sweatpants weighed heavy on his waist as his eyes remained fixated on the handle, hoping if he remained still, he could convince himself it was all a cruel figment of his morning imagination.

Another round of pounding racked the door.

“What the hell was that, Shitty Hair?” An unmistakable raspy voice came muffled through the wood. Kirishima was wrong. Bakugou was here and this was real, and he was doomed.

Kaminari wrapped his arms around his head and groaned on the kitchen floor, “make it stop.”

“Is something wrong?” Sero asked. Mina rose from her seat and Kirishima tried motioning for her to stay still. She rolled her eyes and made her way towards where he was on the verge of another mental break.

He’s been having an awful lot of those lately, he realized. He seriously needed to take time to sit back and reconsider several of his recent life choices.

“Bakugou’s here.” He whispered, nodding towards the door. Mina raised her brows and mouthed ‘Bakugou’ to Sero who shot her an exhausted look.

“It wasn’t me,” Mina put her hands up defensively, then gave Kirishima a pointed look. “You know we have to open that door.”

“No, we don’t,” Kirishima began guiding her away from the entryway, but Mina pushed back against him. They started shoving back and forth; hands in faces, elbows in stomachs, Mina pulling every dirty tactic to fake-out Kirishima in hopes of getting a grasp on the doorknob; however, he had a major height advantage and easily blocked her path.

“Ei, we can’t just leave them in the hallway.” Mina puffed up her cheeks in a pout. She ducked beneath his arm, nearly reaching her goal before Kirishima wrapped his arms around her mid-section and tossed her over his shoulder. Mina kicked and squealed against him as he moved her away from the entrance. “You’re being ridiculous!”

“No, you’re being ridiculous!” Kirishima angled his face away from her flailing limbs, “betray me again Mina and I swear to god I’ll—Oh!” Kirishima fell to his knees when one of Mina’s uncoordinated flails resulted in a swift kick to his groin. The moment she was free she gave him a short apology before dashing away. Kirishima didn’t even have time to protest. Too busy face-planting the carpet in agony—physical and emotional—to the sounds of Sero’s cackling and Kaminari’s pitiful whines.

What a way to go out, he thought. Face smashed into the floor, ass in the air, and his dignity nowhere to be found. It’s a near spitting image of how he’d always imagined.

“The fuck is going on?”

Kirishima’s shoulders shot to his ears. He rotated his head towards the door to find an upside-down image of Bakugou and Uraraka staring down at him. Uraraka held her hands against her mouth like she was trying to hold in a laugh while Bakugou just glared. Surprisingly, Kaminari was the one standing beside the open door, head cradled in his hands. Kirishima shot him a dirty look.

“I had to stop the knocking dude,” Kaminari said before slinking down against the wall. Kirishima grumbled several half-assed insults and turned away from their newly entered guests.

“I’m so glad you guys made it!” He heard Mina skip over to be obnoxiously friendly. He sneered. He definitely was not throwing a fit though because he was an adult and adults don’t throw fits. He crossed his arms.

“You sure? ‘Cause it sounded like you were haven’t quite the argument.” Uraraka said cheekily. Kirishima felt his face flame up. He let his butt sink down and hoped the rest of him would melt into the floor with it.

“Oh, that? Just the usual banter…” Mina laughed awkwardly, trying to wave it off. Kirishima sighed and suddenly he was reminded why they never collaborated with anyone outside of their small group. Chaotic mess.

He felt a kick to his side and grumbled. He attempted to ignore it, but the kicks increased in strength so Kirishima rolled over to tell who he assumed was Sero off. Words failed him when he was met with a set scarlet stare.

“What the fuck happened to you?” Bakugou gave him another rough nudge with the toe of his shoe. Kirishima tried pushing him off, but Bakugou just pressed down harder.

“I gave him a good kick where it hurts,” Mina winked.

“It was awesome,” Sero said. “A one-hit knockout.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “So, you just gonna pout for the rest of the fucking day?”

“I’m not pouting!”

“Sure, fucking looks like it.” Bakugou smirked. Kirishima narrowed his eyes at him. “Oh, and nice pants.”

Kirishima’s eyes widened. He’d completely forgotten he was wearing Mysteries Unsolved merch. Bakugou’s smirk grew cocky and he nudged Kirishima a little harder. Kirishima felt like his face was going to start on fire.

“So, what’s our game plan for the day?” Uraraka asked, pulling Bakugou away by the top of his shirt. Kirishima was grateful. Another second of physical contact with mocking and he’d probably be dead. “We were promised a YouTube video?”

“I’m pretty sure only you were promised a YouTube video.” Sero pointed at her with his greasy spatula and Bakugou glared back. Sero put his hands up defensively. “Not that we’re disappointed you’re here…”

“Real convincing, Soy Sauce.”

Sero stared off for a moment, as if trying to process Bakugou’s words. They lost him for several minutes.

“I, for one, am more than happy you’re here. I’m sure Kirishima is too!” Mina shot him a smile. He made eye-contact with Bakugou and mumbled out a quick agreement.

               “Well, what the fuck do you normally do for videos?” Bakugou asked, hands shoved deep in his pockets.

               “Well, normally we just fuck around for a week and then I edit it to make it look like we’re cool.” Kirishima crossed his arms. “When I’m lazy I just throw together some leftover clips, call them bloopers and throw them up on my second channel.”

               “I do that, but all in one day and once a month.” Kaminari piped up from the floor. Sero rolled his eyes.

               “They didn’t ask you.” Sero pointed out. Kaminari stuck out his tongue, curling back up onto his side for his umpteenth hangover nap that morning.

               “Well, are we gonna just fuck around then?” Bakugou asked. Kirishima felt his face warm up a bit and turned away from them.

               “We could always do a challenge video?” Mina said, tapping her chin. “You post those on your second channel too sometimes.”

               Kirishima shrugged. “I suppose. I haven’t done that in months.” It was actually a great idea. Those always got a lot of views since he rarely posted them, and he could use some bloopers for the next main channel video. “Yeah, actually that’d be great.”

               “It works for my channel too since we can just split clips.” Mina smiled. “Especially if we’re on different teams.”

               Now Kirishima was getting the feeling that he should be extremely against whatever idea Mina was coming up with. The way she was eyeing up Bakugou gave him all sorts of red flags.

               “Teams?” Uraraka tapped her chin as well. Kirishima glanced between the girls who now wore identical expressions. He watched them lock eyes and smile mischievously each other. Why would he ever think introducing another deviously evil personality to Mina was a good idea? He looked to Bakugou who was staring at everyone indifferently. Did he seriously not notice the plotting occurring?

               Kaminari suddenly perked up. “That’s absolutely genius. Think of all the views a video with Kirishima and Bakugou would get.”

               Everyone except Kirishima nodded.

               “I mean, we shouldn’t do a video just for views.” Kirishima lifted himself into sitting. “C’mon… don’t we have morals? Standards?”

Everyone in the room blinked.

“Do you have… morals?” Kaminari tilted his head towards Mina.

“Never heard of her.”

“Standards left me years ago.” Uraraka shrugged.

Kirishima’s jaw hung open and he turned to Bakugou looking for help, but Bakugou just shrugged loosely. Kirishima struggled for words before sighing. “At least let me shower.”

“That’s the spirit!” Mina cheered.

If anyone had told him that he would have his crush publicly released for clickbait only to be filming videos with the guy days later for that same clickbait… he’d think they were absolutely insane. Maybe he was the insane one?

What even was his life anymore…

               The game Kirishima had no say in since he’d been in the shower was the Newly Wed game. The concept seemed innocent enough when they explained it to him. They were asked questions and their partner had to guess the right answer. Easy. The only problem being the abnormal amount of information Kirishima knew about Bakugou.

               “We’re positive I shouldn’t be partnered with Mina?” Kirishima was already finding it hard to look at Bakugou now that Sero convinced him to wear Vlog Squad merch. Bakugou in his red Vlog Squad hoodie might actually kill him if he thought about it too hard.

               “People already know we’re best friends.” Mina rolled her eyes. “They want to see you and Bakugou versus me and Uraraka.”

               “This is fine with you?” Kirishima asked Bakugou who had been casually leaning against the kitchen counter. Seeing Bakugou fit so easily in his home was really messing with his head. Kirishima clenched his fists to remain focused.

               “I don’t make mediocre videos.” He raised a brow. “Either this shit gets trending, or it was a waste of my time.”

               Sero snorted from where he was setting up their filming area. “Sounds like a yes if I’ve ever heard one.”

               Bakugou scowled and went to check what Sero was doing. Kirishima watched them discuss Sero’s equipment, defeated once again. Mina was already grabbing small whiteboards she left in Kaminari’s bedroom with her extra supplies while Uraraka scrolled through questions with Kaminari who was finally beginning to rejoin reality.

Once again it looked like his fate had been placed in the hands of his friends.

               “You ready, Ei?” Mina smiled, hugging the boards to her chest. He took a deep breath glancing at the blonde boy in the center of his living room, looking over tech equipment with Sero. It felt like he was moving through this day half-awake, like he’d go to sleep tonight thinking it was all a dream.

               He nodded.

               The couples sat next to each other on the boy’s living room couch leaving a small space between them. When Sero signaled they were recording Mina and Kirishima gave their usual over the top introductions before introducing their guests. Uraraka waved overexcited while Bakugou barely acknowledged the camera.

               “Denki is also here only this time we’ve kicked him behind the camera. He’ll be asking the questions.” Mina pointed to Kaminari with her dry erase marker and Kaminari leaned over the camera, shoving his face directly into the lens with a wide smile. Kirishima and Bakugou simultaneously groaned.

               “What’s the punishment?” Bakugou asked, tapping his marker against the whiteboard. They all looked at him and Uraraka’s eyes lit ablaze.

               “Uh, we didn’t come up with one.” Kirishima tilted his head.

               “The winners can tweet something off of the losers Twitter.” Uraraka smirked, “it’s an oldie, but a goodie.”

               “That’s no fair.” Mina puffed up her cheeks. “Bakugou doesn’t have a Twitter.”

               “Who says?” Bakugou stated. Kirishima whipped his head towards Bakugou and Mina’s jaw dropped.

               “You have a Twitter?” Kirishima asked. There’s absolutely no way. Kirishima had spent hours internet stalking this guy and never found any hints of a social media account.

               “I don’t know,” Bakugou smirked while scribbling something on the whiteboard. “Let’s win and maybe you’ll find out.”

               Kirishima turned red. Was Bakugou flirting with him? It was probably just for the video, but Kirishima was pretty sure he was being flirted with. Then again Kirishima hasn’t been flirted with in years, so he doesn’t know how to read any signals and could be misinterpreting every—

               “Earth to Ei!”

               “Huh?” Kirishima turned to Kaminari who was snapping at him.

               “Team names?”

               Bakugou turned their board around and Kirishima had to cover his face. In darkened letters, Bakugou had written ‘KIRIBAKU’ across the top in red. “Fucking obviously.” Bakugou cackled.

               “Dude.” Kirishima whined.

               Mina pouted, turning their board around which said ‘PINK BALLOONS’ with a few balloons doodled in the corner. “No fair. You’re baiting the viewers to favor you.”

               “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Bakugou said with a devious smile.

               “Blasty always plays dirty.” Uraraka rolled her eyes.

               “Fuck off,” Bakugou growled.

               “YouTube friendly.” Kirishima muttered with crossed arms. “This is my only monetizable content, dude.”

               Bakugou was quiet for a moment before mumbling. “Frick off.”

               Kirishima started laughing and Bakugou had a small smile. Uraraka shook her head. “Bakugou isn’t monetizable.”

               “I can be fucking monetizable.” Bakugou growled with clenched teeth. They all looked at him and he sagged his shoulders. “Fricking.”

               “I was kidding. I can edit, don’t sweat it, dude.” Kirishima waved it off with a wide smile. Bakugou stopped for a moment and just stared at him. Kirishima raised a brow and Bakugou quickly turned away.

               “Oh, he’s really sweaty. So that’s probably not—”

               “Would you shut the fuck up!?” Bakugou leaned over and threw one of their markers at Uraraka. She squealed when it narrowly missed her face and threw one back that smacked Kirishima right in the chest. Uraraka apologized repeatedly while Bakugou sent her double middle fingers from behind Kirishima’s back.

               “Alright, first question.” Kaminari said, completely ignoring the situation in front of him. Bakugou and Uraraka settled down, but the competitive air had risen exponentially between them. Kirishima and Mina glanced at each other helplessly. “What’s your partner’s favorite food?”

               Bakugou snorted before confidently writing down an answer. Kirishima was surprised, but the answer was pretty easy—meat. He’d eat any and all kinds of meat if it was cooked well; honestly, even if it was cooked mediocrely he’d probably still eat it. He supposed that made it a broad guessing category.

               “See this game is fun because it shows us who’s a stalker.” Sero nudged Kaminari and they snickered evilly. Kirishima’s eyes widened. So, it wasn’t just him who had that thought. He side-glanced Bakugou whose grip tightened slightly on the whiteboard as he zoned out on his answer. Was he rethinking his guess?

               “Alright, flip.”

               Bakugou hesitated briefly, but when he turned the board it read the right answer. Kirishima’s heart fluttered unreasonably and he tried desperately to fight back his dopey smile. However, Mina was also correct. Bakugou and Mina both smirked at their personal victories, then glared at each other.

               “What the hell?” Bakugou sneered, erasing his answer. “Why would you know that?”

               “Because I pay attention to her behind the scenes videos.” Mina winked at Uraraka who blew her a kiss back. “Why would you know Kirishima’s favorite food?”

               “Look at the guy,” Bakugou gestured to him with the marker. “He’s never seen a damn vegetable in his life.”

               “I eat vegetables.” Kirishima scoffed. Bakugou gave him a pointed look and Kirishima turned away with pouted lips. So maybe they were his least favorite food group, but once a month he chose the salad option when they got fast food and he deserved credit for that.

               “The second question,” Kaminari drawled out, now hanging upside down off their ottoman. “How old was your partner when they had their first kiss?”

               Kirishima knew the answer was fifteen. He also knew that Bakugou got his first kiss on a dare because Uraraka had teased him about it on one of her Instagram stories. Obviously, he couldn’t write all that, so he pretended to be uncertain about the answer, erasing a couple of times, before finally writing the correct number.

               When he finished Bakugou was looking at him suspiciously.

               “What?”

               “That took you a while.” Bakugou said, raising an eyebrow.

               “It was… a hard question?” He tried to lie, but he was never good at hiding his emotions. Mina always said he got betrayed by is big eyes; he was an open book whether he liked it or not.

               “You’re a shit liar.” Bakugou smirked. Kirishima felt his face turn red and he racked his mind for an excuse. He came up completely empty.

               He frowned. “I know.”

               “No throwing.” Bakugou said, completely serious. “I can’t have Pinky going through my phone.”

               When they flipped their boards Kirishima obviously got it right claiming he guessed. Uraraka had gotten it wrong and Mina clung to her shoulders fake crying about betrayal, and how she thought what they had was real. Bakugou fake gagged through the whole act.

               “How many siblings does your partner have? Bonus points for details.” Kaminari said, now slugged onto the floor.

               Bakugou started writing. Kirishima stared in awe because he just didn’t stop writing.

               “What are writing a novel?” Uraraka asked, snorting. Bakugou just threw up a middle finger.

               When it was time to flip the boards around Kirishima’s jaw dropped. Bakugou had filled the whiteboard with information about his sisters. Even Mina lowered her board down.

               “Two.” Bakugou stated confidently, looking right into the camera. “One is older, and her name is Misaha who you facetime once a week; she’s 23. The second is Aiko. She’s still in high school. 16, I think?”

               Bakugou looked at Kirishima for confirmation and Kirishima just nodded his head slowly. Bakugou smirked and motioned for Kaminari to give them points. Kaminari blinked a few times but drew several tallies on their side of the scoreboard.

               “How do you know all of that?” Mina said, slamming her whiteboard with only a zero written on it on her lap.

               “You literally have to be following him on social media and have watched like three vlogs.” Bakugou rolled his eyes and erased his answer. “He never shuts up about his family. Posts about them all the fucking time.”

               “He’s not wrong.” Sero shrugged.

               Kirishima tilted his head. “You watch my vlogs?”

               Bakugou shrugged. “So, what? You watch our stuff.”

               “Yeah,” Kirishima laughed. “But that’s different.”

               “How?”

               “Well…” Kirishima furrowed his brow. Bakugou’s content was good? Bakugou and Midoriya were real YouTubers? Kirishima didn’t feel like he was anyone worth Bakugou’s free time?

               Kirishima shrugged.

               “Whatever, you’re both awesome we get it. Can we continue?” Kaminari took a deep breath, oblivious to Bakugou’s vicious glare. “What’s your partner’s favorite movie?”

               After that Kirishima was starting to feel like Bakugou was less someone unreachable that he should be idolizing and more just… a person. Kirishima wasn’t afraid to answer the questions he knew truthfully; Bakugou even high-fived him when he knew the name of Mysteries Unsolved’s first YouTube video. He didn’t have to feel anxious around the guy anymore and it felt… amazing.

               Once Mina realized Bakugou was a bit of a Vlog Squad fanboy she nearly quit the game. There was no hope for her and Uraraka since the boys ended on a near-perfect score. Bakugou somehow even bullshitted that Kirishima would want The Rock to play him in a movie. The girls stood absolutely no chance.

               “This is so unfair,” Mina whined as she reluctantly she handed over her cellphone to Bakugou after they’d completed recording. He cackled, and Kirishima swears on whatever god was out there, skipped into the kitchen. Uraraka pouted and held her phone out to Kirishima. He gave her a half-smile, pretending to be sorry, but secretly thrilled to take revenge on someone who’d been plotting his demise since she’d stepped foot in his home.

               “Be kind to me.” Uraraka batted her eyes.

               “No promises.”

               Mina screamed from the other room and they both went wide-eyed, sprinting into the kitchen. Mina was lying on the floor dramatically with her cellphone clutched to her chest while Bakugou sat at the counter laughing. A genuine full-bodied laugh. Kirishima swore his heart stopped.

               “Kirishima!” Mina sat up and pointed at Bakugou. “I want him out of this house. He’s never allowed here again. Banned I say! Ban him for life!”

               “Well,” Kirishima smiled at Bakugou who was still having a hard time containing his laughter. “It’s my house… so… no?”

               She stood and stomped passed him towards Sero and Kaminari while mumbling about how useless he was. Kirishima rolled his eyes and went to sit next to Bakugou at the counter.

               “What’d you do?”

               Bakugou smiled at him and again Kirishima felt himself go through the beginnings of a heart attack. Maybe he should be more careful around this guy. “Check out her Twitter.”

               Kirishima took out his phone and pulled up Mina’s account. He couldn’t contain himself and he burst out laughing too, covering his mouth with his hand.

Alien Queen: Omg guys. I knew my vibes were off!?!? I’m like totally freaking out. It normally doesn’t look like this should I like call 911??? L

               Attached to this tweet was a picture of a toilet with a bright green poop floating in it. Kirishima looked at Bakugou who was just smiling proudly. He’d never thought Bakugou capable of something like this. This Bakugou, the one in front of him, was a million times better than the idealized one he’d created in his head.

               “Have you done Round Face’s, yet?”

               “Oh.” Kirishima pulled out Uraraka’s phone. Bakugou took it and quickly entered the password before handing it back to him. “I’ll just do this.”

               Kirishima commented on Bakugou’s post. ‘This happened to me last week. I feel you. Solidarity in numbers, babe. Keep me updated.’

               Bakugou started to cackle again and Kirishima smiled. Then Bakugou tried to reach for Kirishima’s actual phone and he instinctively pulled it away. “Whoa, I didn’t lose. If anything, I carried.”

               Bakugou snorted and just motioned for Kirishima to hand it over. He scrunched up his nose but unlocked the screen and gave it to Bakugou. Bakugou raised a quick brow at Kirishima’s sexy rock background but shook it off and started punching in a number, then Bakugou’s phone started ringing. When Kirishima realized what was happening he took a shaky breath.

               Where was one of his dumb friends when he needed them?

               They were all respectfully hanging out in the living room while he flirted with someone in the kitchen. When have they ever not meddled in a situation that didn’t need meddling? This is an opportune time for Kaminari to do something stupid or Mina to think he needs help.

               Hello?

               Bakugou set Kirishima’s phone on the counter next to him and it vibrated. A new message from an unknown number.

               “For whatever.” Bakugou shrugged. “Collabs and shit.”

               “Right.” Kirishima smiled softly. “Collabs and shit.”

               Bakugou rolled his eyes, but a small smile forced its way onto his face.

               “Hey!” Sero shouted. “We’re playing Smash. You guys in or what?”

               Bakugou’s eyes immediately lit up and he whipped his head towards the living room. “Fuck yeah, I’m in.” He hopped off the stool and looked at Kirishima expectantly. “Ready to get your ass kicked?”

               Boy was he.

“I don’t know if you’ve heard.” Kirishima stretched his arms. “I’m kind of the Smash Bros god of this house.”

               “Not for long.” Bakugou left the kitchen, hopping onto one of the couches and swiping Uraraka’s Switch controller. She whined and swatted at him, starting another argument between the two. Kirishima rolled his eyes and clutched his phone tightly before placing it in his pocket.

               He was very excited about the possible ‘collabs and shit’ this contact may lead to. Until then, he grabbed a controller from Kaminari and selected his main man Luigi. He had a title to defend.

[your-dietician]

NBA Draft Profile: Michigan State’s Aaron Henry

New Post has been published on https://tattlepress.com/nba/nba-draft-profile-michigan-states-aaron-henry/

NBA Draft Profile: Michigan State’s Aaron Henry

Here we are a year later and Michigan State’s Aaron Henry finds himself on the precipice of his NBA career. Where last year I had some questions and ultimately predicted that he would return for his junior season, this year there is zero doubt in my mind that he is more than ready to have a terrific NBA career and to be a rotation-level player right away.

NBA scouting report for Aaron Henry

General info and initial scout:

Height: 6’6” (in shoes) Weight: ~210 pounds Date Of Birth: August 30, 1999 (~22 years old and one month at the start of 2020-21 NBA season).

Official measurements (NBA Draft Combine):

Height: 6’4.5” without shoes, 6’6” in shoes

Wingspan: 6’10.75” (nearly plus-five inches)

Standing Reach: 8’7.5”

Standing Vertical: 29”

Max Vertical: 35”

(Note: you can check out all of Henry’s NBA Draft Combine numbers here)

Henry improved significantly as an athlete this past year — showing better leg strength and explosion than he displayed as a sophomore. He has NBA-level athleticism, solid, positional strength, and can hold up against bigs, but that is not a strength at this point. Henry still shows the very quick feet and excellent technique both in his slide and drop-step and in his turn-and-run that he did last season. He continues to show an excellent understanding of when to use which technique on defense, he gets skinny over picks, and is good in trailing around screens.

My critique of Henry previously was his tendency to float through games, or get mentally knocked out of games due to foul trouble. That critique is no longer remotely applicable. This past season, Henry played on a truly bad team by Michigan State standards: this was the worst Tom Izzo-led Michigan State team since his second season at Michigan State and the only Izzo-led team in the Kenpom era to rank lower than No. 45 (the team finished No. 64!). Henry was the alpha all season long and, in the second half of the season, single-handedly (at times) dragged and willed the team into the NCAA Tournament. With no other shot-creators, terrible point guard-play, woeful three-point shooting around him, and generally poor defensive contributions from players other than Marcus Bingham Jr., Henry was the offensive focal point all year and played engaged basketball all season (bar a couple of blowout losses after the team returned from its two-plus week COVID pause).

Henry projects as a rare plus on-ball defender at the next level — even more so than he did last year. He has terrific feet, hands, length, timing, and understands when and where to use his physicality. There were games that Henry simply dominated on the defensive end where he improved his steal and block percentages to 2.4 and 4.1, respectively. He proves adept at reading the game, understanding other teams’ actions, and blowing up plays on-ball and off-ball. This will be his calling card initially as a professional.

His shooting form has improved significantly since the end of his junior season:

He is much smoother and has a more natural dip and release from behind the three-point line in this catch-and-shoot drill from the combine, a smoothness that he already had (all season) off the dribble in the mid-range. Despite his guide-hand looking a little funky, it appropriately does not influence the ball; this is a replicable form for catch-and-shoot situations in the NBA where teams will initially, at least, shade off of Henry until he shows he can hit three-pointers (and even then Henry will likely be low on the scouting report).

Henry’s shot is far from broken; in fact, there is strong statistical evidence to pair with this improved visual data that indicates that Henry will be an at-least-average three-point shooter for his position (i.e. that he will get to around 35 percent as a professional).

Henry’s off-the-dribble creation improved dramatically this season (evoking his high school years where he played as a point-forward). Often going against set-defenses, Henry proved able to beat players off-the-dribble, and to slash off of catches and curls from the wing.

Henry remains an excellent and confident finisher with both hands on a variety of reverses, off-foot finishes, push shots, tear-drops, and hooks. Significantly, Henry also showed the ability to play off of two-feet and off of one-foot in the paint — an athletic dynamism that is important in the NBA. Henry had 10 dunks this year (on 13 attempts), but he continues to finish well around the rim when he isn’t dropping off passes, which is one of his underrated skills: for his entire college career Henry has been a terrific paint-area passer through and around help— and this will really maximize his NBA role as a secondary creator and paint-breaker (see below).

When he runs the wing Henry is a terrific transition player: he reads the court well, understands best angles to attack, and finds open teammates on the perimeter, but this year Henry was often the one bringing the ball up the court or having to work with a delayed break (due to the point guard struggles on the team). I expect him to be a potent transition player and finisher in the NBA in a call-back to his first two seasons at Michigan State. While Henry’s free-throw rate still leaves a bit to be desired, he does not rely on free-throw generation the way some college stars do, which will benefit him in the much more physical NBA, where he will not get a lot of calls.

In his junior year, Henry stepped into a much bigger role this year than was anticipated, as evidenced by his massive leap in usage and the percentage of shots he took while on the court (in his second and third years Henry’s usage, role, and minutes-played took huge leaps each season, a strong indicator that he can handle and even thrive in a bigger role as a more veteran NBA wing — a not-insignificant consideration).

By the end of his junior year he was playing his best basketball on both ends of the court and finished the year as one of the most impressive juniors to ever play for Tom Izzo. Henry remains very smart, very engaging, cerebral, humble, and highly teachable, but, as noted earlier, he developed an absolute killer-edge and alpha mentality this year.

After this past season, Henry’s ball-handling and individual shot-creation and finishing (in the mid-range and at the rim) should put NBA teams on notice. In fact, Henry finished as a top-five mid-range shooter in the entire nation (see below) an extremely valuable long-term proficiency as Henry’s three-point shooting begins to percolate, and as his creation role and finishing acumen lead teams to encourage mid-range shots from him even more.

Henry’s strength, length, quickness, and explosion are all at-least-average in the NBA, if not genuine positives (his length — nearly a plus-five wingspan — and lateral quickness — he should test very well in the athleticism drills at the combine — are real selling points). And, with his “killer” mentality secured this season, the only actual weakness that I still have for Henry is his three-point shooting — an important weakness, but not a fatal one, nor one that should scare NBA teams away given some positive indicators: his impressive second-half-of-the-year shooting (see below), steady free-throw shooting improvement, and excellent form and comfort on mid-range shots.

Statistical profile:

Aaron Henry. Three-year detail

Barttorvik.com

Note: the impressive step-function increase in Henry’s usage, assist rate, and free-throw percentage. Also of note: Henry finally “putting-it-all-together” on defense this season; on a poor defensive team, generally, Henry posted terrific block and steal percentages.

Aaron Henry. 2020-21 shooting statistics

Barttorvik.com

After a more quiet year last year in terms of dunks, Henry amped up his transition dunks and landed (and attempted) far more dunks in the half-court (almost all off of one foot; to complement his jump-stop finishing). Henry’s self-creation and efficiency at the rim and in the mid-range is impressive, particularly considering the awful spacing he had to deal with.

While the three-point percentage looks ugly on its face — especially given Henry’s solid 35.6 percent mark over his first two seasons (129 attempts) — the granular detail of Henry’s shooting season tells a far different story. In non-conference play, adjusting to the absence of fans, a new, much-larger role, an unexpectedly bad team, and dire shot-quality due to poor point guard-play, Henry started the year making just six of 26 shots from three-point range (23 percent). But over the rest of the season, Henry shot 18-of-55 from three point range, for 32.7 percent from beyond the arc. In fact, in the second half of the year (from the Iowa game onwards; i.e. the last 14 games of the season) Henry shot 15-of-38 from three-point range, for a superb 39.5 percent — while maintaining a high degree of shot-difficulty.

Henry’s selling points on offense:

Passing: Henry is a terrific passer, particularly in tight-quarters and in-and-around the painted area. If a big is open near the rim Henry will make the right pass and get the big-man an easy dunk — he is a willing and capable passer.

Creation: this past season, Henry’s self-creation and creation for others was a revelation, and he produced excellent looks out of the pick-and-roll as well. On a bad team that did not generate high quality shots, Henry was at the heart of almost all of the good things that did happen on offense. His ability to beat his man off the dribble using complex cross-over combinations, hesitations, spins, and aggressive jump-stops won Michigan State games to the extent that Henry became a go-to a drought-breaker and closer (see his 10-straight clutch-points against Indiana down the stretch of that must-win game) even in the face of intense defensive attention.

Mid-range and paint-scoring: Henry’s mid-range output (roughly six mid-range attempts per game at 46 percent) is in the same range as guys like Khris Middleton, Jamal Murray, and Jeremy Lamb (current NBA players) — I am not saying he will be those guys, but from a mid-range scoring perspective he is not dissimilar coming out of college, and, in fact, is a better mid-range shooter than those players were in college.

Highlights:

There are not a lot of prospects with a more impressive set of highlights in terms of winning basketball, variety, and ability to produce smart basketball plays despite a high degree of difficulty or pressure. Henry’s smooth handle (much improved from his sophomore year), calm under-pressure, and keen awareness of time, score, and personnel saved Michigan State’s season, and indicates that Henry will thrive as a secondary creator, paint-player, and primary wing-defender.

Henry’s point-of-attack defense and help defense (in terms of his help-awareness and positioning, timing of his rotations, and completing of plays) really pop in this film where he stifles nearly every player he guards. Take a look at this play against prospective first-round pick Ayo Dosunmu:

Aaron Henry on-ball defense: just devouring Ayo Dosunmu, going to his left. Rugged at the point of attack, quick feet/fluid hips. Glides over screens. pic.twitter.com/elSKTrtP4c

— Brian Geisinger (@bgeis_bird) May 14, 2021

Henry’s defense is a real weapon, and while many NBA evaluators may not value it, his offensive game also pops on the film, too.

While Henry is not a lottery-level offensive creator, he really is not that far off: on a team with negative spacing, and often lacking any semblance of rhythm, Henry’s ability to generate shots for himself and his teammates was pretty incredible in the half-court. Take the second Indiana game, at home, for example. You can see a series of highlights from that game in the above videos, but some context is required.

Both teams were fighting for their NCAA Tournament lives, and Indiana’s entire defense was focused on stopping Henry after he destroyed them in Bloomington in the first matchup. In the first half, the Hoosiers bottled him up pretty successfully, holding Henry to four points. In the second half, Henry scored 18. With Michigan State down 49-48, with 4:35 left in the game, Henry scored 12 straight points (from all three-levels), grabbed an offensive rebound (for a put-back), had a crucial steal, and a defensive-possession-ending rebound, to put Michigan State up 60-52 with, 25 seconds left in the game. He dominated the game and there was nothing Indiana (with the No. 43 defense in the nation, per Kenpom) could do to stop him.

This same story played out in all five of the season-defining wins against Indiana, Illinois, Ohio State, Indiana, and Michigan — these high-level teams, two of them with excellent defenses (defensive ranks of No. 43, No. 7, No. 82, No. 43, and No. 4, respectively) were geared toward thwarting Henry, and simply could not keep him out of the lane, or off of the scoresheet as he put up 27 points and two assists, 20 points and five assists, 18 points and four assists, 22 points and five assists, and 18 points and three assists in those five season-defining wins.

Henry’s feel for the game and the rhythm of opposing defenses is superb, and while he did at times struggle with getting stripped (often getting raked across the arms) on drives into traffic, the NBA game and spacing will benefit him tremendously in this respect. Like Miles Bridges a few years ago, Henry’s game will absolutely thrive in the NBA where defenses are stretched, driving lanes are wider, teams are not putting their best defenders on him and not helping towards him, and his passing awareness and skill will punish teams that do help on his drives and curls.

In the second part of my discussion of Aaron Henry as an NBA prospect, I will dive into some more granular player comparisons and show why Henry is such a unique prospect as a point-wing whose role, usage, creation, defense, and two-way excellence place him in a tier of his own making. Part two will also include a discussion of his NBA role and his potential “fits” for teams. Be on the lookout for that article soon.

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[jackieandwillson]

Bubbly

Jackie and Will -- Story #2.

There hadn’t been anything on Jackie’s mental to do list for the day, which was shocking even for the tiny brunette as she lazed around her childhood home, finding solace in the emptiness it carried. Her brother had moved out ages ago, and her mother was still working just as often as she always had, sleeping at night the best she could before conquering a seemingly never ending string of twelve hour shifts. She’d done everything in her power to keep herself occupied throughout the day, growing restless as her final year of college slowly approached. It wasn’t as though she had a career path she was excited to kick off or even a knack for education. Her grades were proof of that enough. But, she missed seeing her friends on a regular basis, and she’d always found a reason to enjoy herself, when she was in school.

She’d already began to pack her suitcases, anticipation for move-in day something she felt every year. Sure, it was close to home. She’d chosen a community college for that reason alone, never wanting to leave behind the people in her life that lived in town in favor of a fancy school she likely wasn’t smart enough for anyways. But, her father paid tuition, and it was nice being able to live on her own, or with a roommate, for a majority of each year. She always looked forward to decorating a new space with new bedding and whatever floral artwork she could get her hands on. Not to mention, it was a relief not having to explain the rotation of boys that left their cars parked in the driveway, often concerning her mother, who would never have approved of her lifestyle had she not been so tired all the time.

Luggage sets filled with folded laundry, perched near the door of her bedroom, she had let herself fall back on her bed, a worn sigh falling from her lips. She wasn’t exactly the most productive human being in town, so even little chores, like packing ahead of time, were enough to warrant some sort of reward, and none ever made the girl feel as accomplished as lighting a cherry scented candle and taking a bubble bath, a bottle of wine resting carefully at the side of the warm tub.

Stripping from her clothes, she’d submerged beneath the barricade of scented bubbles, resting her back against the porcelain frame, hands pulled away from the water to scroll through her phone’s instagram feed, casually sipping at a glass of red wine as the pad of her thumb pushed past photos of vacations and people’s pets alike. It didn’t take long, but once the wine had began to settle in her system, Jackie found herself pulling up Will’s contact information, tempted to call him, but deciding instead on a string of texts, inviting him to join her.

She continued to drink as she waited, raising one foot from the water to watch as she wiggled her toes, oblivious to the sound of the front door opening or footsteps on the stairs, until Will was actually standing in her bathroom. A bright grin took over her face, and she perked up completely, splashing water over the edge of the tub in the process. Of course, this brought laughter to the brunette’s lips, much giddier than usual. “There he is!” She sing-songed, reaching one bubbly, wet arm past the porcelain to reach for him. “And you broughtwiiiiine.” The delight on her face was almost laughable, but didn’t stop her from peering up at him through thick lashes and tugging his hand closer.

The day sped by as quickly as it ever did, a steady stream of customers from every corner of town seeming to rush Cherry on Top for some much needed relief from the heat. The shop was busy every season of the year, but summer proved to be especially packed, line ups often stretching out the door and around the block. Hot days in particular. He had constantly been running to the stock room to refill inventory, going through bucket after bucket of the sweet treats before the day was done.

He let his co-worker go home early, the rush of the early afternoon and evening finally dying down. It was easy enough for him to manage on his own, no need to keep someone else around when he could clean up alone. Plus, being alone meant he had total control over the stereo and had the ability to play whatever music he wanted as he cleaned up.

For the last hour, not a soul entered the establishment, leaving Will more or less to his own devices. Pairing his phone to the bluetooth sound system of the shop, he let the shuffled songs of ‘Jackie’s Playlist’ on Spotify come through the speakers loud and clear. A playlist comprised of songs they shared together or ones that reminded him of her. Just another way the girl was with him even when they were apart, as if the constant stream of thoughts in which she was the star of weren’t enough- she took up space everywhere. In his head, in his heart, and anywhere he could possibly manifest it.

As if on cue, right as he was finishing up, the backlight of his phone against the counter switched on, iPhone buzzing against the table. He raced over to it, quickly answering to her invitation with an eager reply. Will could hardly play it cool at the best of times, but when it came to Jackie, there was no hope in Hell of him being anything less than completely invested.

His feet flew down the street to the liquor store before it closed, snagging two bottles of her favourite wine and a third for himself as well. Just as quickly as his feet could carry him, he was in his car, speeding down the streets to make it to her house. Arriving in record time, he parked in his own driveway and jogged to the front door of the Buchanan residence.

Kicking up the floor mat, he grabbed the spare house key and unlocked it swiftly before placing it back where it was hidden and heading inside. He took off his shoes and carefully placed them in the closet before bellowing out, “Honey, I’m home!” Chuckling to himself, he walked up the stairs and expertly navigated his way to her bathroom.

“The man of the hour has arrived.” He agreed with a chuckle, quickly lunging forward and capturing her lips in a gentle–yet eager–kiss. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” He whispered against her lips. “And, yes, I came bearing gifts. They were out of gold, frankincense, and myrrh but luckily, they had your favourite wine so that’ll have to do.” He chuckled, beginning to make quick work of discarding his clothing so he could join her in the bath.

The silence that filled her home more often than not was something that had always bothered the girl, spending a majority of her time humming whatever song was stuck in her head for the day, or letting the television play in the background, just to fill the void. Hell, the TV in the living room was usually playing even when nobody was home, and that was the case that evening, the rattling of some sitcom and it’s laughing audience filling the silent spaces, small splashes of water decorating the incessant noise as her fingers danced under the water, painted toes wiggling beneath the bubbles, passing time the only way she could think to as she waited on the boy.

It hadn’t taken long, maybe a half hour, if that, from the time he’d agreed to come over to the moment he stepped into the small bathroom, but it had felt like forever, the clock suddenly slowing down as she struggled to keep herself occupied in his absence.

She met his kiss easily, her lips stretching into a wide smile against his mouth than actuallykissing him. But, that wasn’t completely abnormal for the girl, intoxicated by the boy from next door, whether she was drinking or not. She’d never been the most clever girl in the world, that much was clear to most who knew her, but sometimes when she was drinking, she could be down right clueless. “What?” She couldn’t help but chuckle as he spoke, mindlessly splashing water onto the floor, as she struggled to assist him in undressing, fingers fumbling with the button of his shorts as though she hadn’t undone them a hundred times over. “It’s the angle.” She murmured, more so trying to convince herself than him, as she continued her pursuit, a loud proclamation of success marking her achievement, as she sat back in the water, clearly pleased with what she had managed, leaving the rest to him.

She shifted slightly, moving forward in the bathtub, finally taking into account how her motions upset the water if she wasn’t mindful, making space for him to slip in behind her. “You took forever to get here.” She slurred, but the smile on her face never faded. “What took so long?” She whined, resting her arms on the edge of the porcelain head tilted against her wet skin, as she watched him undress.

Will hummed into the kiss, her lips feeling like home after a long day at work. He pulled away, cocking a brow playfully as he made quick work of his socks, tossing them aside. “When baby Jesus was born, the three wise men tried to bring him the best gifts they could and that’s what they brought him.” He explained, kissing the top of her head. “I learned that from my kindergarten days at the local church.” He teased, rolling his eyes as she tried to downplay his compliment. “At any angle.” The boy promised, smirking down as she undid his shorts, wiggling his hips quickly and letting them slide to the floor.

He kicked them off, his arousal already beginning to show through the thin fabric of his boxers. “I didn’t take that long, maybe twenty minutes.” He explained, peering back over to her as he discarded his shirt. “I had to close up the shop, grab your wine, and then make my way over here. I went as fast as I could!” He promised, twisting off the cap of the wine before handing it over to her.

He knew this was a dangerous game they were playing. It reminded him of when they played house as children, Jackie assuming the mom position and Will as the father, using her various stuffed animals as their children and toting them around the house. However, now that they were older, the game was hardly as innocent as it once was. Now, instead of playing with toys and joking around, their feelings were the things being toyed with.

The arrangement started out simply enough, best friends exploring their bodies as they grew older in a safe, and trusting environment. But feelings became involved quickly, and as much as Will wanted to say that they were just playing around, it was much more serious than that. To him, anyway. He yearned to hold her close to him, to breathe in her intoxicating scent once more and find peace in her arms after a long day. He was in love with her, simple as that. If only things could be that simple.

Now that he was fully undressed, Will carefully climbed into the tub, his long frame expertly wrapping around her more delicate one. It was a dance they had done for years. Leaning down, he pushed her hair aside and gently began rubbing her shoulders and back, lips placing gentle kisses against her skin. “I missed you.” He mumbled, even though it had only been a day or two since they were last together. If he was telling the truth, he missed her whenever she wasn’t around. It was as if he couldn’t live without her, his breathing becoming more laboured when they were apart.

“How was your day, princess?” He asked, gently kneading into her shoulders with the pads of his thumbs as the warm water crept up his skin. He wasn’t sure what was heating him up more, the bath itself or just being in her presence. Even if the game with her had become dangerous, he would be damned if he didn’t want to play whenever he could.

She’d almost forgotten, over time, that Will had gone to church as a child, often asking Jackie to come along with him to Sunday schools, or things of the sort. She’d caved a few times, her mother agreeing that she could tag along if only to snag a few hours of quiet away from her child, leaving the small brunette clinging to Will in a place that she, quite frankly, didn’t like. She’d listen to the stories, some of them meant as warnings while others simply praised a God so mighty, but she had never been able to get around the decorations on the walls of the church, finding a tiny Jesus in just about any direction. “I want to go home.” She’d murmur to the boy as they sat together in a pew, her tiny frame so close to his she was convinced that no matter what evil her body held, Will would protect her from the consequences the preacher told of.

Sitting there with him in the tub, their bodies once again lacking any semblance of space as her damp back pressed to his dry chest, it was almost like they were children again. Of course, the innocence between them had been lost, to some degree, years ago. Jackie was no longer fearful of the same things, most of her jitters now centering around herself, and the disappointment she felt she’d become, primarily in her father’s eyes. That wasn’t to say she didn’t feel as though she upset others as well. Every time she left Will, whether it be after a simple lunch or sweaty night in his bed, there was a feeling in the pit of her stomach that compared to those days in that pew. To those meetings with her father. To the thought she was left alone with as she laid in bed each night, wondering why she allowed herself to leave so many times, when she knew he was hurting with each good bye.

She rested against him, thankful that his hold was there to remind her that, in the moment, he was her protector again, the sound of his voice filling the bathroom with a joy she didn’t deserve. “I know what they brought baby Jesus,” She mumbled, resting her head, and in tandem, her wet locks, against his shoulder, her hands finding one of his, if only to play with his fingers, drunkenly tracing the length of his digits with her own, watching as water dripped down his arm and back into the tub, only to slip her fingers between his his and pull his hand to her own chest, carelessly between her breasts. It wasn’t meant to be sensual, or anything of the sort. She merely liked keeping him close, and in her fog of wine and bubbles, she found that tender feeling in whatever ways made sense at the time.

She’d let go as the wine bottle came into her possession, giving up on the glass sitting on the floor next to the bathtub, in favor of drinking from the spout, though as his hands wrapped around her meager shoulders, massaging into the tense muscles and soft skin, she wasn’t focused on the alcohol or getting drunk. The only thing on her mind was him, and the way he touched her, the innocence between them finding it’s way back in moments like these. His lips were soft against her neck, gentle, and she all but melted into the butterflies that rose in her stomach, a child-like grin tugging at her thin lips. “I always miss you.” The words were soft spoken, but there was no disputing that Jackie was always a little more honest about her feelings when she was drunk. Titling her head back, just enough so that she could see him without needing to turn around to actually face him, she puckered her lips, wanting another kiss.

“I love when you call me princess.” The words were paired with a wide grin, and she’d shifted against him so that her back was pressed to his chest once more, small hands moving to take both of his, leading them to her middle, a silent indication that she wanted him to hold her, no matter how comforting the massaging motion had been. Nothing would ever compare to just being held by him. “My day was boring.” She admitted with a chuckle, one that likely wouldn’t have accompanied her words had she not had a few glasses already. Everything was laughable by this point. “I packed most of my bags, for school.” She quipped, fingers wrapped around his hands, her own arms crossed as she all but forced the boy to keep her close. “And now I need to clean my room, because I tore my closet to pieces.” She’d never been the type to leave a mess in her home behind, unless something was wrong. This time, she’d merely been tired, her body aching with a busy day’s work. The kind of thing her doctor usually advised against, being as she’d been climbing step stools and lifting heavy bags and crawling under her bed in attempts to reach the things she didn’t want to leave behind when college started back up. “How was your day?” She singsonged, finally reaching over the edge of the bathtub to grab the wine bottle, taking a sip before holding it out for him to take. “Thirsty?”

Will chuckled softly, cocking a brow even though she couldn’t see it. “Do you?” He teased, knowing Jackie hardly would consider herself as religious. Not that Will would classify himself as religious in any way, his family had brought them both to church when they were younger–and not bold enough to protest–but Will and Jackie mostly spent their time whispering to each other at the back of Sunday school or eating a few too many of the cookies laid out by the church volunteers for after the service.

Their fingers quickly intertwined, his longer ones wrapping around her more delicate ones. He kept his hand close to hers and easily allowed it to be draped wherever she pleased, just enjoying the closeness they could share together. As she took the bottle from his free hand, he focused on running his hands along her smaller frame, massaging it gently as his lips made contact with her skin. “I always miss you, too.” He agreed honestly. He removed his lips from her supple skin before peering back to her, leaning quickly in to capture her lips in another gentle kiss, as she requested. It was more delicate than most of their kisses, seeming to convey just how he truly felt about her without uttering a single word.

“What can I say? You are my princess. Always have been and always will be. Even though we’re not playing pretend anymore, it doesn’t change that fact that I’ll always be your knight in shining armour.” He mused. He would do anything for her, helping her in any way that he could even if it meant sacrificing himself or giving up everything for her. He happily allowed her to guide his hands back around her, tightening his grip around her small frame, holding her flush against him in a tight hug. He rested his head on the apex of her shoulder, kissing the skin once more. “Well, hopefully I can fix your boring day for you.” He hummed, tilting his head to kiss her cheek gingerly.

He swallowed hard at her talking about going back to school. Though she wouldn’t be far away and he made the drive almost as often as he strolled across the yard to her front door. And there was certainly more privacy at her seasonal living arrangements than at home, so it wasn’t all bad. “Why didn’t you ask me for help? You know you shouldn’t be overexerting yourself and lifting heavy stuff, that’s why you have me. I’m big and strong, call me next time, I’d be happy to help you.” He told her. He would hate for her to hurt herself when she could have asked him for some assistance and he would have come running. “I can help you clean it.” He added, hoping she would take him up on his offer. Will was a helpful guy and didn’t mind lending a hand to anyone, but was more than happy to help her.

“My day was fine. We were busy at the store and all I could think of all day was racing home to see if you were up, so I’m glad you invited me over.” Most days, his mind was filled with her, wondering what she was up to and if she was free to see him. As she handed the bottle to him, he nodded graciously, grasping the bottle with one hand and keeping her just as snug to him with his other long arm. He took a long swig of the bottle, chugging nearly half of it in one gulp. “God, what an amazing way to end the day. Baths just aren’t the same without you.” He expressed before taking yet another long sip and then handing it back to her.

The taste of bittersweet fruit, bubbling into something comfortable in her stomach, barely compared to the coziness Jackie found as she rested into his touch. Warm water soaking past her middle as she all but melted against the boy, eyes drifting shut as the enjoyed the silence of the bathroom, his steady breath against her skin almost melodic. “I do.” She hummed softly, wiggling her toes beneath the surface of the water, knees bent to make more room for him as they shared the confined space. “How do you even fit in here?” She commented loosely, fingertips tracing along the length of one of his legs at her side, absently watching as water droplets scurried back to the basin, wet fingers eager to touch him in even the most innocent of ways. “Are you even comfy?” She inquired, her tone slurred and soft.

His lips ventured across her skin, leaving behind a trail of goosebumps against pale flesh, a quiet, content sigh falling from her own as she tilted her head in the opposite direction, only slightly, offering him more of her, in the only way she could fathom in the moment. Though, his lips soon met her’s, and it didn’t take much to convince the girl to shift in the tub, careless as to how much water splashed around them and past the edges, onto the tiled floor, as she perched herself on her knees between his legs, certain to keep the wine bottle held high above her head in the process, as not to get it wet or ruin it with bubbles. Settling into her newfound spot, she could barely shake the girlish grin on her face, hidden behind the spout of her drink.

There had always been a few tell-tale signs, to know when Jackie was well on her way to a good buzz, and as the girl had already began to slur and her giggling had become something incessant, it was pretty clear she’d met that point of total bliss. A light blush crept across her cheeks as he spoke, and she found herself shaking her head, placing the wine bottle on the floor for only a moment, to cup his cheeks, pulling him into a soft kiss. “You,” She mumbled against his lips, corners of her mouth curled into a seemingly permanent grin. “Talk.” Another kiss, tilting her head in the opposite direction. “Too.” This was a tactic she performed all too often, certain she could distract the boy with her touch in just about any situation, even if it were something as meager as pulling him away from his kind, almost sappy words. “Much.” She coupled the end of her sentence with a much longer, deeper kiss, parting her lips as her fingers curled against his skin.

She pulled away, eyes fixated on his as she lowered herself into the water, sitting now with her legs crossed facing him. “Don’t.” She murmured, the softness in her tone almost foreign in a place so joyous between the two of them. She’d always hated that her illness held her back from being able to do normal things, and while she knew his intentions were good, she always felt so weak. “I’m okay, Will.” She promised, resting her forehead against his chest. “Next time, I’ll ask.” She wouldn’t want to, but she could already feel the muscles in her body aching. “Big and strong,” She chuckled lazily, before peeking back up at him, unable to focus all too long on much of anything in her drunken haze. “You’re so fucking cute, you know that?” She mumbled, grinning up at him like a child.

She’d stolen another kiss, easily, moving forward so she was as close to him in her new sitting position as physically possible. “Do you take baths without me?” She wondered, her curiosity always a little more frugal when she was drinking. She found it hard to imagine, William Bloom in a tub full of scented bubblebath on his own. Or God forbid, with somebody else. The very thought alone was enough to make her stomach churn, and she pushed it aside as her fingers found his once more under the water. “I’m glad you could come over.”

Will laughed, further bending his knees to accommodate his size in her tub. He certainly wasn’t incredibly comfortable in such a small space, but just the feeling of her body against his gave him comfort that far outweighed the awkward position. “Next time, let’s have this sort of celebration in a hot tub or maybe a pool…“ He teased, shrugging. As she quickly turned around to deepen their kiss, his hands quickly found their way to the small of her back. He gazed at her lovingly as she drank from the bottle, wondering how someone could make something as mundane as drinking look that cute.

As she sat the bottle down, he went to say something else to her but he was caught off guard by her pulling him into her once more. He smiled widely against her lips, eyes closing quickly as he settled into the blissful kiss once more. Her lips were like coming home, a feeling she had often offered to him. He couldn’t help but letting out a soft chuckle as she placed tender kisses between gentle words to his lips. “You’re right…. too much time talking, need to spend more time kissing.” He agreed, sliding his right hand up her frame delicately before cupping her cheek, tilting his head slightly to deepen their kiss.

He pulled her closer to him as she pulled away, gingerly placing his head onto hers. He never wanted to make her feel like he’d treat her differently because of her condition, but he would look out for her regardless of the situation. That was what love did to a person, you put someone’s needs before your own. There weren’t many people Will would take a bullet for, but the person at the top of that list was undoubtably Jackie Buchanan.

“I know you’re okay.” He said after a moment, treading carefully. “I know you’re strong, baby. You’re the strongest person I know, but even super heros like you need a helping hand when it comes to lifting boxes bigger than you are.” He chuckled. “And I’ll be sure to give you a proper massage once we’re out of here… or maybe in the morning if I’m too drunk by the time we’re done with the bath.” He corrected with a chuckle, smiling down at her. “Why thank you. But you’re cuter.” Will quipped, capturing her lips in another passionate kiss.

Reaching over, he grabbed the bottle before taking a long swig, finishing it off quickly. “Baths? Without you? Why, I’m offended you’d even as such a thing.” He grinned, scooping her closer to him, wrapping her legs around his waist. “Bath time is our thing, doing it without you would make me too lonely and sad.” He explained sincerely, kissing her forehead. “I always want to be with you, thank you for having me.” He mused, pressing another kiss to her lips, not being able to stand the feeling of their lips apart.

He leaned over the edge of the bath once more, taking the second bottle of wine from beside the tub and opening it quickly. He took a few long sips before passing it to her, resting his head on her shoulder as the warm water exaggerated the way the liquor was making him feel. “God, I’m crazy about you. I don’t know how the universe came up with someone like you, but I’m so fucking glad they did.” He mumbled against her shoulder, kissing it before trailing more kisses across her skin before he reached her lips once more.

“Do you know how hard it is to swim and drink?” Jackie quickly quipped, sitting up a little as she spoke, as though that somehow added emphasis to her statement. She’d found herself in all sorts of different predicaments over the past few years, as far as college parties and drinking were concerned. And, while she was certain William had as well, it was unlikely he’d lived anything close to the kind of life she had lead in college. He was a good boy, most of the time, even going so far as giving up a handful of different opportunities since graduation, to stay home and help his parents with the shop. Of course, Jackie had always thought it was sweet, envying the lengths the Bloom family would go for one another, she had always made a point to try to break Will out of the small shell his family lived in, her own life one bit of bad news and worse decisions, one after the other. “Wouldn’t recommend it.” She grinned, index finger lazily tracing across his chest, water droplets decorating his skin in the patterns and shapes she created absently. “I dropped an entire bottle of merlot in my dad’s pool in New York.” She recalled.

She went every summer, for at least a week, back in high school and even a few times since graduating, to the summer house in New York, eager to spend a few days away from Crownsville and every memory that came with it. She’d turn up the music as loud as could be, certain there wasn’t a neighbor in miles, and pick out her skimpiest bikini, only to go through bottles after bowl with whatever friend had tagged along, and the cute city boys they’d invite. Of course, she rarely spoke of it around Will, always feeling as though she was missing a part of herself when she was that far away from him. “You’d like it there.” She continued softly, humming to herself as her hands made their way to his shoulders and up his neck, a grin tugging at her lips as her thumb traced along the length of his bottom lip. “Maybe we can go up there one week, just the two of us.”

She met his every kiss gently, alcohol coursing through her body leaving the petite brunette feeling airy and weightless, even as he pulled her into his lap. “I don’t need a massage, William.” She pouted, slumping in his hold as she peered up at him. “I’m fine.” She was nothing if not stubborn, even if it meant turning away things she knew she would enjoy. She’d always been that way though. She was independent, as far as her health was concerned, and she’d never wanted anyone to make her feel as though she couldn’t take care of herself. It was part of the reason she’d hidden her illness from him for so long, certain to tuck away her medications and avoid verbalizing her pain every time he was around. “I can’t… wait on somebody to help me every time I need something taken care of. It’s not a big deal.” She slurred, resting her head against his chest, a sign of defeat as she let out a soft sigh.

For a moment, the only sound that could be heard from the smaller girl was the humming she’d taken up once more, a mindless tune she’d heard through the walls earlier in the day, likely one of the theme songs from the television in the other room. She easily let him lead her legs around his waist, her own arms hugging around his middle as she let her eyelids fall shut, lashes resting against her cheeks as the song repeated. Our thing. Over the years, it seemed like Jackie and Will had collected a handful of activities that were reserved only for one another, and at the top of the list, she would always consider bubble baths to be her favorite. Very few men were willing to wade in warm water with a bottle of wine or a stupid romance novel, content with the closeness between them rather than just pushing for something more physical. But, Will never failed her. There was just something so comforting about sitting there with him, completely naked, and knowing she could say whatever fell from her tongue without worry. She didn’t need to impress him in those moments, or be somebody else. She could merely exist, and he still looked at her like she was something special the entire time.

His words, soft spoken against her shoulder, brought her lulling hum to a halt, eyes widening as she processed what he was saying. Of course, she’d heard a million times over about how remarkable she was in their time together, but something about this just felt different. Bolder.I’m crazy about you. That wasn’t something she was expecting to hear, even if she knew it was true. Normally, she would have disregarded it, pretended she hadn’t heard what he had murmured, or even gotten out of the tub altogether. But, she was drunk, and visibly so, and the words had fallen from her tongue before she could even think about it. “Maybe I was made just for you.” She slurred, an intoxicated chuckle falling from her lips as she realized what she had done, certain consequences would be on their way. Taking the bottle, she downed another swig, a distraction most needed.

“I said nothing about swimming, babe.” He reminded her, “I simply met we could sit on the steps and drink, you know, give my poor legs a break.” Will let out a soft chuckle, the wine fully beginning its takeover of his senses and judgement. “Sounds like a crazy time, I’ll take your word for it.” He mused. There was no doubt in his mind that Jackie was more experienced in most areas of life. Will prided himself on being safe, playing by the rules, and getting home in time for curfew. In fact, he was so good at following the rules that his parents took away his curfew entirely when he was 16, sure he would be home before midnight on his own accord and not seeing a point in enforcing anything.

Will had heard tell of her families home in New York and many of the stories she had brought home from her trip there. He always missed her when she went on vacation, as trivial as it sounded, something just felt off whenever she was away. Like a ying without its yang, he just wasn’t the same without the company of Jackie Buchanan. “I’d love to go with you. I want to travel the world with you.” He admitted, though the truth was that he wanted to experience much more than just travelling with the girl. There was simply no one else he wanted to go through life with. He couldn’t imagine being with anyone else.

He rolled his eyes, relishing in the touch of the pad of her thumb against his lip. “What? You don’t like my massages anymore?” He teased, knowing she was deflecting for a reason. She didn’t like to talk about her condition, which Will understood, but he would always look out for her. “If the sounds you make when I massage you or how we always end up before I can even finish the massage are any indication, I’d say you were fond of them at one point.” He chuckled. His expression suddenly turned serious, his lips forming a hard line. “I’m not saying you need to wait for help, but if you’re moving your whole life out of your house, it’s not unreasonable to ask for a hand. People usually hire movers for those sorts of things.” He teased, kissing the top of her head.

Keeping her close to him, his fingertips traced absentminded circles on her back, not wanting any distance between them. Sitting still and holding her close, he listened to her heartbeat, the way both of their chests rose and fell in unison. He took deep breaths in an attempt to slow his heart rate, still swooning over her even after all these years. The way her eyes met his took over his pattern of thoughts immediately, making the usually well spoken male draw a blank and focus on nothing but her.

I want you, and you, and nothing but you; miles and piles of you. Finally I’ll have something worthwhile to think of each morning.

His head snapped back at her sentence, peering down at her intensely. This was one of those times when words failed. There were so many things he wanted to–rather, needed–to tell her, but he didn’t know where to begin. “There’s no maybe about it. I know I was made to be your perfect match.” He stated boldly, voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t think you truly understand just how much I care about you, or how you make me feel. No one has ever cut through the noise like you have, Jac. No one else ever will.”

She’d reclaimed her spot at his chest, wet hair dripping down her back as her forehead pressed to his damp chest, a collection of droplets decorating their skin with every small movement they made. Jackie had always had a tendency of filling the tub a little too high, and given her drink of choice, it wasn’t much of a surprise that she hadn’t thought to drain a little before inviting the boy in. Regardless, she was warm, and it was easy to sink lower into the water as she sat in his hold, legs wrapped comfortably around his middle. “I wish we had a pool here.” She mumbled softly. Of course, there was a local pool, but Jackie had grown up passing summer evenings in a gentle lake, finding it was much more affordable to swim in the make-shift swimming hole than it was to visit the pool and pay an entry fee each time.

“It could be nice.” She mumbled quietly, absorbed in her own thoughts. It wasn’t as though she and Will hadn’t spent a majority of their lives getting older in the empty house that was the Buchanan residence, but the very idea of letting him steal her away to a cabin in the woods of New York, spending even a few days whisking around the empty yard and the spacious pool, curling up in a bed that too big for the two of them to ever fill, and making breakfasts in a kitchen that heavily outweighed either of their cooking skills. That cabin was a place of dreams, when she pictured sharing it with Will, whereas it was a party haven when he wasn’t, walls lined with a million stories she’d never tell him, even if he already knew. “Just… pack some bags and head to New York. Feel fancy for a weekend.” Feel loved.

“Didn’t say I didn’t like them.” She countered, though she sat up slightly, a confused look on her face. “Or did I?” It was a genuine question, a wine-filled haze taking over her already foggy memory as the two sat together in the overfilled bathtub. “I just don’t need one, William.” She always used his full name when she was drinking, a habit she found herself doing more and more around those friends in her life with nicknames. “I swear, I’m okay. I’ll be sore, but it’s not the end of the world. I’ll survive.” She slurred. “I’m not made of glass.” Though, sometimes it felt as though she were. From the delicate touch of smooth skin, to the way her sharp edges could cut through just about anything if not handled properly. “Yeah,hire. Not expect their…” What title did he even have anymore? Best friend? Next door neighbor? Lover? “You to do it for them.” That would have to work, because every other name on the tip of her tongue would have surely caused a problem.

Blue eyes studied his features as he spoke, peeking out from behind a sweating bottle of wine. He really was beautiful in moments like these, his messy hair fixed to one side and his skin sparkling with the wet designs she’d drawn across his chest and shoulders. But nothing,absolutely nothing, compared to the way he looked at her when they were like this, whispering and sitting too close to be anything but just friends. Though, they’d never really claimed that title. Not by a long shot. “All your’s.” She murmured, the words she’d promised him a week earlier in the ice cream parlor. The words she should have promised him all those years ago, when they were making memories on the bottom bunk or stealing nervous kisses in teenage closets. It was what she should have said when he had asked her to be his girlfriend, back in high school. And yet, there they were, dancing around it as usual. “I doknow.” She whispered, shifting slightly so she could cup his cheeks, pulling him into a soft kiss, raising from his lap only slightly in order to properly reach him. “I’ve always known.”

Will pursed his lips, thinking for a moment. “This is sort of like our pool. It’s small, sure, but it fits both of us perfectly and it’s all ours. And just ours.” He smiled, always trying to find the bright side to thinks. Sure, a pool would mean more room for Will’s long legs, but it would lack the sort of closeness the bathtub brought. They both had their pros and cons, sure, but Will was happy to be anywhere- so long as Jackie was by his side. He would never complain about the closeness, either, for he felt the safest when she was wrapped in his embrace.

“I’d love all of that.” Will confirmed, “I think you’d make the perfect travel companion, if those camping trips my family took you on when we were younger were any indication.” He chuckled, remembering fondly about the weeks they’d spend in the summer just outside of Crownsville, a tent for the two of them and a tent for Will’s parents and older brother. It was like their own little world, where they could be together past any constraints that came along with their childhood home. They’d swim in the river, and Will would lend Jackie his hoodie when they curled up by the fire, the boy working away quickly on making her s’more before daring to make one for himself.

He would be so proud of himself, using all of the skills his father taught him to fish for their dinner and make the fire himself, content just to provide something comforting to Jackie beyond words of affirmation or physical touch. He would give anyone the shirt off his back if it meant leaning a hand, but for her, he would be willing to do anything. He had dreamed of the day he could one day be her hero, whisking her away from the life she knew like they always talked about late at night–whether it be in a bunkbed or the tent–where first kisses and dark secrets were exposed. He knew firsthand the struggle she went through and he wanted nothing more than to save her from anymore heartache.

Chuckling, he nodded, deciding not to press the matter further. “I know you’ll survive, but just know, my hands are able and willing whenever you need them… for whatever you need.” He teased, kissing her skin once more. “I didn’t say you expected me to help you, but that’s what I’m here for.” He reasoned. His eyes met hers once more, swallowing harshly, the lump of nerves that he knew all too well in situations like these tempting to spill over at any moment. Now would be the perfect time to come clean to her, to tell her how he truly felt. But the taste of her rejection was all too present in his mouth and he froze in his tracks. He could never shake the feeling she gave him when she said no all those years ago, how unwanted he felt. Will started to wonder if she’d ever be able to see him as her boyfriend, but didn’t want to raise too much concern and ruin the moment. “Good.” He mumbled after a moment of returning her kiss, palms delicately cupping her skin and tracing lacy figures into her cheeks with the pads of his thumb.

“As long as you know.” He muttered. Guess that would have to do for now. But only for now.

[life-with-an-external-fixator]

If you only read one post, make it this one!

so basically thought I’d do a top tip run through of my journey with a frame, starting at the hospital stay when it first went on and the challenges I faced and how I hope to help anyone else with it.

TOP TIP; take all the pain medication they give you because in the early days although it may not be hurting at that current time, when the pain does settle in it is very difficult to get rid of / overcome, so best option is to keep onto the pain meds. I’d say to carry on with the 4 x 2 paracetamol a day until you are really ready to give it up, first couple months I was on this and dihydrocodiene. I was also put on zapain and Amitriptyline for my nerve pain / sleep issues. obviously please seek doctors advice on medication as everyone is different. I was told to avoid anti-inflamitories as it can effect the bone healing process. Additionally when you’re in hospital if the physios come around to see you, trust them and your leg. I was walking with crutches around the hospital about 36 hours after the operation. when you leave the hospital, you’ve had a trauma so don’t over do it, but weight bearing is essential for bone growth when treating it this way so the more you can do it / the earlier you feel comfortable and confident to do so the better. (Took me around 3 months to really trust my leg and it’s really put a set back in my recovery)

Please don’t beat yourself up when you’re not back to “normal” straight away! we take such minor things like walking for granted, or walking with a cup in your hand. don’t think any less of yourself for asking for help. we all need it sometimes.

Physio therapy - I go weekly to a frame class which has been great both for physical rehabilitation and the mental side of the recovery, everyone at the class is at a different stage of recovery and went through the same challenges I faced so was good to have the moral support of those and the OT that comes around with goal setting activities and tips on diet / exercise / sleeping / clothing / practicalities of the frame. I also had quite a few hydrotherapy sessions which massively helped my with the confidence to put weight through the leg fully. 👩‍⚕️🦵💪 took me three months to trust my leg and the frame and once I started walking it wasn’t pretty but it was progress, I know I should’ve trusted it earlier and it was mind over matter. I’ll put my traditional workout at the bottom for anyone who’s interested😊

Sleeping with the frame. I really struggled to sleep at the start of this, but elevation is the key. I put my leg on two pillows and then a blanket under my foot so I wasn’t constricted to the ex-gaitor overnight, the hospital did provide me with a lug cuff to tie around the foot and attach to the frame but I didn’t get on with it. dependent on how high your frame goes and where the pins are it may be possible to sleep on your side but I’ve found that I can only sleep on my back, luckily I have a double bed that I don’t have to share so can sleep diagonally for more comfort. During the winter I adapted a pillow case to go around the frame so the metal wasn’t cold on my other leg. Doing a full body relaxation / mindfulness programme could really help settle you down for the night. additionally at the start napping is brilliant, if you’re tired and have time for a nap then do so. 😴🛏

Clothing - many different things you can do with adapting clothing, I have cut the legs of many pairs of leggings so I can minipulate bit over the frame and then use a mini skirt / scarf / pillow case to cover the frame. stretchy trousers, poppers joggers and large shorts have also been useful. Dresses were also very useful for me too. you can can the seams and Velcro or zipper the side of clothing but I didn’t have the skills to do so. Pyjama shorts / clothing are normally quite stretchy / baggy so I got myself a couple new pj sets and loungeware that have really helped. Underwear snags easily but with all clothing dress the frame leg first to reduce the snagging and always reduces the stress and frustration of getting dressed! additionally when you undress, undress the good leg first so leaves you more manoeuvre room with the frame. Keeping the frame covered does help reduce chances of infection and protects the leg as the metal is in your bones, if the frame gets too hot or too cold then it goes through. My foot was very swollen for lots of the recovery and I found that in winter my toes were very cold so ended up cutting the elastic of my socks so they could go on. For shoes I had an exgaitor shoe that attached to the frame and held my foot up, but as long as it fits under the frame you can wear trainers, flip flops, converse etc. I tended to wear a trainer on the left foot. 👟👗👚 the main issue with the clothing, bed sheets or towels is snagging, I am replacing all of the above once the frame is off! Some people found that wrapping the frame allowed clothing to go over / on easier without snagging. cling film, scarves and bandages were all mentioned by people in my group!

Showering - when your doctor clears you, nothing nicer than getting in the shower. I was washing myself from the sink for a very long time but once I invested in a shower stool it was a game changer. if you’re still unsteady on your feet, whack on swim wear and get someone to help you, I put a slip proof mat in front of the stool which was level with my bath so I could sit and then swing my legs in. I had my own towel and flannel to reduce the chances of any infection. once I dried the leg I then cleaned with the solution and wrapped any pin sites that needed wrapping. 💦🚿 on the topic of pin sites, they will ooze a bit when you start walking as they move naturally with your leg, but if you are worried about an infection, see the GP asap. I had one and the skin was red, was hot, felt unwell in myself and the pinsite was painful and very oozy. you’ll also know your body and frame better than anyone so if something changes or feels different get it checked 🦵 (drying the frame can be tricky and fiddly but a cheat I’ve used is to lightly put the hair dryer over it and get the droplets of water off that way)(not to close to the skin though as the frame does heat up really quickly)

Life in general - please don’t let the frame run your life. I had to give up work and driving but it can be very isolating. get out and about as much as you can or have family and friends over for a cup of tea / glass of wine or a pint. I had an active job so couldn’t go back for health and safety but a few people I know with the frames have gone back to office work with one on. People will point and they will stare in public, most people are lovely about it and will ask questions or try and help in any way they can. Meal prep is something that I found really helpful in my recovery, it allowed me to feel useful and do physio weight transfer exercises without thinking too much about it, for example stiring pasta sauces or cutting an onion. even things like making a drink and being able to carry it back into the room seem like such tiny things but it’s amazing. Going up and down stairs can be tricky with a frame but the physio will reach you how to use crutches to do it, either that or using the banister/wall. Coming down I found harder and my foot was at an angle due to the size of the frame. At the start I went up and down on my bottom which was cheating a bit but I didn’t have the energy to walk. a bad habit I soon had to get out of! 😂

Diet and Supplements - my surgeon had me on vitamin D supplements as well as Zinc/Magnesium. Additionally you’re told to try and take more calcium as it’s for bone strength and density. In regards to diet although you’re not doing as much during the day it’s important to keep the calorie intake at a normal rate, try eating lots of fibre, vegetables, fruit, protein etc. It’s also recommended that you lower your caffeine, fizzy drink and alcohol consumption. towards the end of my journey I was also put on vitamin C supplements but again please consult with a doctor before taking supplements 💊

Adjustments - if you have to do any adjustments my top tip would be to take your baseline medication at the same times you do your adjustments, so when I did mine it was at 8am, 12pm, 4pm and 8pm so I took my paracetamol at those times and then tended to take a stronger pain killer at about 10pm before I went to bed to ease the pain over night. The adjustments are meant to be staggered so it’s not too much in one go but I found the closer I was to the end of the programme the more it ached. Don’t worry if you hear any bone clicking, this was common for me. common side effects during the adjustments were achy pains, oozing pin sites, fatigue (napping between the 12 and 4 rotations was common for me) pins and needles and general discomfort. if you miss a turn don’t bulk do it, the programme is set for the way the bone should be, if you miss one simply postpone everything a day and start doing them a day behind when you’re meant to.

Swelling, elevation and anything else - swelling I found was really bad so elevating the foot was key, I am lucky enough to have reclining sofa’s so can now pop it out and elevate like that, but at the start I couldn’t lift my leg that high, so it started with a couple pillows on the floor and then a beanbag under it and then I worked up to the recliner. taking shoes and socks off also helped reduce the swelling. 🦶 if you have an adjustment programme then take your paracetamol baseline throughout as some days can be very painful. During the healing process your leg may feel itchy, swollen, hot, pins and needles, achy, painful. you may hear some clicking but I’ve been assured this is all normal. If The frame gets too hot or too cold then you will feel it in your bone, keep it well wrapped in the winter months and loosely covered from direct sunlight in summer. Transport is an issue for many and debating whether sitting in the back of the car with your leg across the back seats or the front and pushing the chair right back is a difficult decision. I found that the front seat is more comfortable and I felt less bumpy when sitting there than the back seats.

Mentally and Physically - as a therapist I understand how important mental health and wellbeing is. During this process there will be times where you feel low and days where you don’t want to get out of bed or wish things were different, if those feelings are becoming normal or overwhelming for you or your support system, please contact a GP about it. The journey with the frame is like a rollercoaster, you’ll be up and down, round and round. Speaking about your emotions to a support system can really help, please don’t isolate yourself! try and live day to day activities as normal as you can, adapt to life with a frame. get out the house and see your friends, staring at the same four walls isn’t healthy for you. Mental health is just as important as physical health, you won’t be able to fully recover if you’re not healthy in both mind and body. Headspace is a great app for mindfulness and relaxation techniques if this is something you think would be helpful.

So there are my top tips and experiences, can’t currently think of anything else that I haven’t mentioned somewhere in this post. Everyone will have good and bad days, the people around you are also affected by the frame and impact it has on both your and their lives.

Keep up with the medication, supplements, physio / hydro, keep your step count high and your spirit higher. Surround yourself with people who care and please don’t be afraid to ask for help or take a day off to rest. I am currently also on ultra sound machine for the break hoping to see some progress with that on the next X-ray.

I have never used a wheel chair (apart from in the hospital) to get around, always went out with crutches but know a few of the others in the group have used mobility scooters as an extra sense of security and reassurance when going out in public. Don’t be scared to ask for help or if you are walking don’t worry about being slower than people or needing frequent stops.

If you’re having a good day, do those extra 100 steps or whatever your targets are, it makes up for those down days where you barley move! 😃

General physio routine / circuit

- leg press 5 x 10 reps, single leg. I do 35kg on the frame leg and 45kg on the non frame leg. I then do 2 x 10 reps of 45kg using both legs.

- wobble board I do 5 minutes front and back and then 5 minutes side to side, also try and do a few minutes balancing it in the middle. (This is really helpful at the start of therapy as it helps weight transference.

- 10 minutes cross trainer on level 10. sometimes I have to do this is two 5 minute stints as it very hard work.

- step ups x30 left leg first, x30 right leg first. this one I have to do next to the bars as sometimes when putting the framed leg up first I want the extra support. (Try and do this on the stairs at home too)

- stairs - just go up and down a few times, at the start of the journey it was both legs onto the same step but now i try and alternate my legs. Going down is much harder to alternate and I still need the hand rails for support. (Do this at least twice a day at home)

- tip toe and heel dips, after I’ve done the stairs I remove my exgaitor shoe and do some tip top and heel dips, this is to try and gain the movement in my toes and ankles. I have to use both hand rails for support on this one. (Can do this one easily at home with the stairs too so try and do it once a day)

- trampet, on this one I also do it shoe less and it’s just about trying to increase the ankle range of movement. I either do marching / high knees or do something similar to the side to side on the wobble board rolling my foot.

- calf stretches, medicine ball squats, tightrope style walking and side steps are also part of the routine of i feel like I need them. I also like to stand on my bad leg and stretch/tap the good leg at 6-12 positions on a clock but do it slow and controlled. My physios have also tried throwing and catching making me stretch on the frame leg, we tried a game of football where I could only kick with the unframed leg. Hydrotherapy was also a big part of my road to recovery as it allowed me to get the weight transference and help my knee bends! hula hooping was also an exercise I did when I was struggling to load the frame leg, it just allows you to work on balancing yourself and the weight evenly. could be worth giving it a go if you’re able to stand unaided. Additional help for the knee bend I found was putting a plastic bag under the foot and bringing your knee back, i found it worked best on tiled/wooden flooring so I did this in my bathroom sat on the toilet. Push and pull your leg/foot forwards and backwards. this was great for the first month or so when I was really struggling.

[trendingnewsb]

If You Take Care Of Your Need, Age Wouldn't Be A Problem To Your Fitness Routine

You have heard it time and again, you benefit from exercise. Perhaps when you were younger you played a sport if not on an organized school team – but with your friends. As you were in your late 20’s or 30’s your way of exercising may have changed. It could have been for more aesthetic reasons. Also over time you have seen different types of gyms pop up in your area or read about them.

Do not hesitate to ask more and allow yourself to feel comfortable in the gym

Priorities change or evolve over time and also you start seeing some nagging injury creep up or know of others that have had some difficulty getting around. Walking into a huge gym with people dropping weights, grunting and using some things you may have not seen before could be an intimidating experience. But you know that you still need to get that blood flowing in some way.

Just like buying a car, do your homework and don’t feel bad about walking away. There may be some smaller (called boutique) studios that seem more inviting. Perhaps the larger gym does have some individuals on staff that are dedicated to working with the ever growing babyboomers and other groups. Or in both instances there may be a group class that is angled for people just like you!

For the business that you feel comfortable in, don’t be afraid to ask questions. All gyms that truly want to keep their clientele will be happy to show them the ropes of the equipment. Of course, personal training sessions could be an additional fee. However – think about that investment. If you really wanted to avoid hurting yourself (i.e. the right form or appropriate weight) and start moving better, why not work with someone to create a plan of attack? Ask questions and seek out those that are happy to help you.

Exercise doesn’t need to happen indoors, go outside and get moving

Another alternative is using the great outdoors. Especially if you live in a place where you are able to take advantage of nature, a hike can be a great way to exercise. Walking poles can be a useful accessory to take pressure off the knees and also give the arms a bit of a workout too.

One of my clients’ trains with me twice a week. I always give my clients an option of me assigning them “homework.” He took me up on that offer. My homework for him is to go for a hike as time and the weather provides. He purchased some good hiking shoes and often joins his friends on the trails. The transformation he and his friends saw was that his stamina increased. This is attributed to his effort in my sessions during the week and also being proactive to ask for homework.

Some mental notes to keep in mind before you get going

With all the above in mind, here are 10 fitness tips for individuals 40 and up. These are to give you some direction on your path to moving better. You know which ones apply to you more than others. Above all the most important thing to understand is that spending your days sitting around will not help you move better. Empower yourself!

1. Understand your body and health condition  Before starting to exercise it is important to kick the tires. Talk to your doctor to get cleared for exercise. Also, ask him or her to review your medications. Talk to your doctor about how to address your chronic conditions (i.e. diabetes) and how exercise and what type of exercise is best for you.

2. Start of with activities you enjoy

Start with what you like doing.  At the end of the day, the most valuable exercise that anybody does is the exercise that they do on a regular basis.  Build that habit.  If you enjoy going for walks, hiking, swimming etc. – start with that.

3. Take things slow

Build upon what you are already doing after you establish a foundation.  It has been a couple of months and you are in a good rhythm walking once a week.  Now it is time to build upon this.  Add another day or two.  Don’t immediately increase the mileage each day or whatever you are doing.  Wait until this is getting easier to add another layer – add more mileage, time or increase the pace.

4. You can always exercise to your needs

Ask qualified professionals for advice. You want to move better on your own. That is understandable. However, you may need some advice to steer you in the right direction. Things like proper form when in the gym or even when jogging can help you avoid the risk of injury and improve your progress. Make sure that whomever you speak with has experience with your age group and is giving you personalized attention. Even if you don’t live in an area where you have access to such people reach out the AARP or Council on Aging branch that can help connect you with someone.

5. Don’t forget your meals are important too 

Be mindful of what you are eating.  Between chronic conditions and long bouts of inactivity a poor diet does not do you any favors either.  Be attentive to what you should not eat that can affect any conditions that you have.  Consult a qualified professional about things like how much protein you should be eating or what is best to avoid with your chronic condition.  Also – stay hydrated!!

6. Make exercising your life work

Train for life.  Work on things like balance, rotational exercises or leg strength.  You want to be able to move better in your everyday life at the least.  Being able to be independent, get up, pick things up off the ground or climb stairs is important.  On that note using some form of weight or resistance is helpful.  This weight could be in the form of a dumbbell or a resistance band.

7. Make new friends while exercising

Join a group class. This is a way not only to have an instructor lead you on how to correctly do an exercise but also at a cheaper rate than a personal training session.  Also, being a part of an exercise community can be a fun and supportive environment.  Knowing your fellow class members and keeping each other honest can be a great way to hold each other and yourself accountable.

8. You can “always” exercise

Remember that what you do when you are not exercising is also important.  If you can take the stairs then skip the elevator.  Park further away from the store so you have to walk.  Pick up gardening or have some sort of outdoor project that you can volunteer at.

9. Your muscles need time to rest and recover

Don’t forget to stretch.  As we age it is important to lengthen the warmup and cool down periods.  Read up on great modified stretching techniques that anyone can do sitting or standing.  A plus to a group class is that the warm up and cool down is already part of the class!

10. Make exercising a pleasant hobby

Exercise has many forms – pick your own!  If a large gym is not your thing, don’t let that stop you from moving.  Look to see what is available in your community that you can join.  Start with something that you enjoy or people that you like to work with!

The post If You Take Care Of Your Need, Age Wouldn’t Be A Problem To Your Fitness Routine appeared first on Lifehack.

from Viral News HQ http://ift.tt/2wC75yN via Viral News HQ

[trendingnewsb]

If You Take Care Of Your Need, Age Wouldn't Be A Problem To Your Fitness Routine

You have heard it time and again, you benefit from exercise. Perhaps when you were younger you played a sport if not on an organized school team – but with your friends. As you were in your late 20’s or 30’s your way of exercising may have changed. It could have been for more aesthetic reasons. Also over time you have seen different types of gyms pop up in your area or read about them.

Do not hesitate to ask more and allow yourself to feel comfortable in the gym

Priorities change or evolve over time and also you start seeing some nagging injury creep up or know of others that have had some difficulty getting around. Walking into a huge gym with people dropping weights, grunting and using some things you may have not seen before could be an intimidating experience. But you know that you still need to get that blood flowing in some way.

Just like buying a car, do your homework and don’t feel bad about walking away. There may be some smaller (called boutique) studios that seem more inviting. Perhaps the larger gym does have some individuals on staff that are dedicated to working with the ever growing babyboomers and other groups. Or in both instances there may be a group class that is angled for people just like you!

For the business that you feel comfortable in, don’t be afraid to ask questions. All gyms that truly want to keep their clientele will be happy to show them the ropes of the equipment. Of course, personal training sessions could be an additional fee. However – think about that investment. If you really wanted to avoid hurting yourself (i.e. the right form or appropriate weight) and start moving better, why not work with someone to create a plan of attack? Ask questions and seek out those that are happy to help you.

Exercise doesn’t need to happen indoors, go outside and get moving

Another alternative is using the great outdoors. Especially if you live in a place where you are able to take advantage of nature, a hike can be a great way to exercise. Walking poles can be a useful accessory to take pressure off the knees and also give the arms a bit of a workout too.

One of my clients’ trains with me twice a week. I always give my clients an option of me assigning them “homework.” He took me up on that offer. My homework for him is to go for a hike as time and the weather provides. He purchased some good hiking shoes and often joins his friends on the trails. The transformation he and his friends saw was that his stamina increased. This is attributed to his effort in my sessions during the week and also being proactive to ask for homework.

Some mental notes to keep in mind before you get going

With all the above in mind, here are 10 fitness tips for individuals 40 and up. These are to give you some direction on your path to moving better. You know which ones apply to you more than others. Above all the most important thing to understand is that spending your days sitting around will not help you move better. Empower yourself!

1. Understand your body and health condition  Before starting to exercise it is important to kick the tires. Talk to your doctor to get cleared for exercise. Also, ask him or her to review your medications. Talk to your doctor about how to address your chronic conditions (i.e. diabetes) and how exercise and what type of exercise is best for you.

2. Start of with activities you enjoy

Start with what you like doing.  At the end of the day, the most valuable exercise that anybody does is the exercise that they do on a regular basis.  Build that habit.  If you enjoy going for walks, hiking, swimming etc. – start with that.

3. Take things slow

Build upon what you are already doing after you establish a foundation.  It has been a couple of months and you are in a good rhythm walking once a week.  Now it is time to build upon this.  Add another day or two.  Don’t immediately increase the mileage each day or whatever you are doing.  Wait until this is getting easier to add another layer – add more mileage, time or increase the pace.

4. You can always exercise to your needs

Ask qualified professionals for advice. You want to move better on your own. That is understandable. However, you may need some advice to steer you in the right direction. Things like proper form when in the gym or even when jogging can help you avoid the risk of injury and improve your progress. Make sure that whomever you speak with has experience with your age group and is giving you personalized attention. Even if you don’t live in an area where you have access to such people reach out the AARP or Council on Aging branch that can help connect you with someone.

5. Don’t forget your meals are important too 

Be mindful of what you are eating.  Between chronic conditions and long bouts of inactivity a poor diet does not do you any favors either.  Be attentive to what you should not eat that can affect any conditions that you have.  Consult a qualified professional about things like how much protein you should be eating or what is best to avoid with your chronic condition.  Also – stay hydrated!!

6. Make exercising your life work

Train for life.  Work on things like balance, rotational exercises or leg strength.  You want to be able to move better in your everyday life at the least.  Being able to be independent, get up, pick things up off the ground or climb stairs is important.  On that note using some form of weight or resistance is helpful.  This weight could be in the form of a dumbbell or a resistance band.

7. Make new friends while exercising

Join a group class. This is a way not only to have an instructor lead you on how to correctly do an exercise but also at a cheaper rate than a personal training session.  Also, being a part of an exercise community can be a fun and supportive environment.  Knowing your fellow class members and keeping each other honest can be a great way to hold each other and yourself accountable.

8. You can “always” exercise

Remember that what you do when you are not exercising is also important.  If you can take the stairs then skip the elevator.  Park further away from the store so you have to walk.  Pick up gardening or have some sort of outdoor project that you can volunteer at.

9. Your muscles need time to rest and recover

Don’t forget to stretch.  As we age it is important to lengthen the warmup and cool down periods.  Read up on great modified stretching techniques that anyone can do sitting or standing.  A plus to a group class is that the warm up and cool down is already part of the class!

10. Make exercising a pleasant hobby

Exercise has many forms – pick your own!  If a large gym is not your thing, don’t let that stop you from moving.  Look to see what is available in your community that you can join.  Start with something that you enjoy or people that you like to work with!

The post If You Take Care Of Your Need, Age Wouldn’t Be A Problem To Your Fitness Routine appeared first on Lifehack.

from Viral News HQ http://ift.tt/2wC75yN via Viral News HQ