#yes lover look how you please and act how youd like | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

grapesodatozier · 3 years

Text

so close to the real thing (closer than you think)

rating: explicit

word count: 6.8k

summary: Eddie's been pining over Richie for as long as he can remember. He loves everything about Richie; especially how much Richie loves touching him. It's a little inconvenient, though. Eddie copes with his pent up sexual tension by constantly checking a porn blog he's obsessed with on tumblr. This guy has the same type of body as Richie, he talks like Richie, his name is even Richie! It makes it all too easy for Eddie to pretend it really is Richie while getting himself off to all of the blog's content.

You'll never guess what he finds out when he starts sexting this stranger named Richie from his anonymous porn blog.

tags: friends to lovers, porn with feelings, love confessions, dom/sub dynamics, bi dom top richie, gay sub bottom eddie, the most oblivious pining idiots in the world lol we love them

notes: this is one of my more ridiculous ideas but I had so much fun with it lol. also as a note you probably should not approach people on the internet the way they do in this fic, but they're just v enthusiastic and everything here is v consensual!! still tho definitely don't take this indulgent fic as a guide on how to approach real people online lmao. okay have fun!!

read on ao3 or below!!

notsfw under the cut

Eddie Kaspbrak’s friends were his entire world; time spent with them meant everything to him. But he also really valued his alone time. He’d always been the sort who needed time to just sit on a grassy hill and watch the trains go by, to catch up on comics in his room, to get lost in Netflix shows or even just his thoughts as he moseyed around his apartment—one he live in by himself, for when these moods hit. He needed time to himself to unwind. And sometimes he unwound by scrolling through some porn blogs on tumblr with his hand in his pants.

There was one blog that he was particularly fond of. There were other blogs more catered to his personal interests, namely blogs that didn’t feature women like this one did. But there was a good balance of genders represented, so Eddie figured he could just scroll past those posts. This guy was worth it. His pictures were ridiculously hot, and his dirty talk was even hotter.

Also, his name was Richie. Which Eddie refused to acknowledge as part of the draw.

It was harder to ignore tonight. He’d been out with the losers, and Richie had just been so touchy. And there was something about the way he'd been talking; his voice was lower than normal, slower in a way that made Eddie’s stomach flip. And his touches had lingered, his hand squeezing Eddie’s hip slow, then lazily brushing against his ass as he dropped it. Eddie could hardly take it. He brushed it off as Richie just being tired from work, but god, Eddie wanted it to mean more. The hardest part was hiding how much he wanted Richie to keep doing it.

There were so many things Eddie wanted Richie to do to him. He wanted Richie to touch him harder, to grab him by his hips with both hands. Richie’s hands were so big; Eddie just knew Richie could manhandle him so easily, so roughly. He wanted to know what it would feel like to have Richie’s hands all over him, grabbing at his ass and his thighs, holding his wrists down, making him feel so small. While Eddie would never admit it, huffing at every short joke Richie made, but he loved being shorter than Richie. He loved how safe he felt when Richie held him. And he was dying to know how small he would feel with Richie looming above him, or sitting in Richie’s lap, bouncing on his cock. He wanted to hear Richie talking to him in that low, slow voice, with that condescension Eddie did his best to pretend not to be affected by. He wanted Richie to whisper in his ear and call him all those pretty names he always dropped so casually, all those sweet ones and also ones that were a lot meaner. He wanted Richie to want him.

But it was easier to think about it than to ask for it. He knew Richie had way more experience than him. Well, okay, maybe not way more necessarily, but they were starting their third year of college, and he hadn’t wasted any time. Eddie, on the other hand, hadn’t done anything more than hand stuff with someone else. The guys he’d hooked up with were nice enough, and hot enough, but they just… weren’t Richie.

He supposed this guy on tumblr wasn’t Richie either, but at least he was everything else Eddie wanted. None of his hookups had been so, well, dominant, and that was this guy’s whole thing. He was dominant and a top and into guys that looked like Eddie. He even kind of talked like Richie, and he was apparently pining over his best friend, just like Eddie was. It had him completely smitten. Plus, internet-Richie’s crush had brown eyes like Eddie, and he ran track, just like Eddie did. Internet-Richie had posted once about his dick getting hard watching his friend at his track meet, and Eddie had come so hard that night, his track shorts around his ankles, imagining his Richie thinking those things about him.

Eddie was in bed now, in nothing but his boxers and one of Richie’s old shirts that had been Eddie’s for a while now. Still reeling from the way Richie had been acting that night, he logged into his porn account on his phone and scrolled through his dash for a grand total of thirty seconds before going immediately to internet-Richie’s blog. A thrill went through Eddie’s body when he saw that he had just posted. He’d written, “god my friends gonna fuckn kill me with that ass, i wanna plow him so bad” then reblogged it and added, “reminder that my asks and dms are always open if any pretty needy little subs need help getting off. please come be sluts in my messages.” Eddie’s breath caught in his throat when he saw that there was a picture, too, one of him gripping his hard cock, his boxers pulled down just enough for Eddie to see the dark hair around the base of his cock. Eddie moaned at the sight. His cock was so nice, so long and thick and pink. And fuck, his fingers. They were so long and slim, almost as nice as his-Richie’s.

Eddie scrolled a little farther down, his heart racing. There were a lot of reblogs, but some original posts here and there, things like, “what i wouldn’t do to have a pretty guy drooling all over my cock rn,” and, “in the mood to get someone dick drunk. wanna fuck a someone so hard they forget their own name.” One that made Eddie nearly choke said, “want someone i can pump my come into whenever i want, over and over again. want a sub i can keep full of my come all the fuckn time.” That post had Eddie getting out his lube.

It also had him thinking about internet-Richie’s most recent post, his post about his DMs being open.

Eddie bit his lip and thought about it. He’d sent internet-Richie some asks before from his porn blog (his blog didn’t have his name on it, just the teddy bear emoji, since he privately thought the teddy/Eddie rhyme was fun and clever, and also it was cute), and he’d seemed plenty happy enough to respond then. Still, it felt like a much bigger step to DM him, to talk to him just one on one. But the more he read his posts, the more he thought about his-Richie and how he’d touched Eddie that night, the easier it was to convince himself to shoot his shot with this stranger.

Eddie just messaged him a simple, “hi,” with a heart emoji. It was innocent enough, but his heart was still racing.

Internet-Richie responded a lot faster than Eddie was expecting. Honestly he hadn’t been expecting a response at all. But he said:

hiya cutie (; ive been hoping youd message me

Eddie flushed. He couldn’t help but hear cutie in his-Richie’s voice—especially given how often Richie used the nickname. really? he typed back.

fuck yes, ur cute little messages make me so hard. i can tell ur a pretty little thing just from the way you type

Eddie was blushing deep. Pretty little thing. That was hotter than it should’ve been. He wanted his Richie to talk to him like that, in that deep, sleepy voice.

there’s no way you can tell that from some messages :P, Eddie sent.

His heart stopped at the next messages internet-Richie sent.

oh, u dont think so?

why dont u send me some pics to prove me wrong (;

Oh my god, Eddie thought, his breath coming short. His head swam at the thought of sending this guy nudes, of showing himself off to someone who clearly wanted to see him, who would know how to take care of him and fuck him the way he liked, a guy with his crush’s fucking name and body type and hands. It had Eddie’s cock hard and leaking, and he slowly slid a finger inside of himself.

But just because the thought turned him on didn’t mean he was gonna send this stranger what he wanted so easily, even if he desperately wanted to.

you’d like that, wouldn’t you?

He fingered himself open as he waited for a response, working his way up to two fingers. It was nearly impossible to ignore his cock, but he didn’t want to come before the conversation even had a chance to start.

fuck ya i would, internet-Richie responded. Then, in a second message, whats wrong baby? you shy? ill show u mine ;)

Eddie's breath caught. God, this guy even made stupid shit sound hot, just like Eddie’s Richie. This was unreal.

i’ve seen yours, Eddie pointed out.

ya and you musta liked it if ur messaging me rn

Eddie bit his lip. ...maybe

aw thats cute sweetheart. u know i can see all the needy little tags you add when u reblog my stuff right?

Eddie blushed. He’d kind of always hoped he’d read them, but he never thought he actually did. i didn’t know you read those

oh ya, read them, jerk off to them. bit of a size queen, aren’t you? ;) it’s cute. makes me so fuckn hard when u talk abt how u want me to fill you up

Eddie whimpered out loud, sliding a third finger into himself. Fuck, he wanted that cock inside of him so bad. But right now one of his toys would have to do, once he was stretched out enough. He sped up his fingers, getting impatient. Gathering up all of his horny courage, he sent, show me.

what, no please? only good boys who use their manners get dick pics babydoll

Eddie pouted and whined to himself, making quick work of sliding his hot pink vibrator inside of himself—well, as quickly as he could without hurting himself. He moaned as it filled him up, making pleasure spread deep through his body. Slowly pumping it in and out, he reached for his phone. please, he typed, please let me see? wanna know what to picture while i fuck myself with my vibrator. He even added the wide eyed pouting emoji to really milk the whole begging thing. He knew he’d been playing a little coy, but now with the way internet-Richie was talking to him he was getting desperate.

well fuck baby since ur begging ;)

Eddie held his breath as he waited for the picture, slowly rocking his toy in and out, savoring the feeling. He wished it was Richie doing it, wished it was his cock. The lines between which Richie blurred; he wanted to get fucked by either of them, both of them.

What Eddie received when his phone lit up was not a picture, but a video. It was short, just a few seconds of Richie’s hand dragging wetly, smoothly over his cock, but it had Eddie drooling. The room was dark, so he’d used a flash, and it made the mix of what Eddie assumed was precome and spit glisten as the swollen head of Richie’s cock disappeared and reappeared from behind his fingers. Eddie must’ve played it at least five times, fucking himself a little faster, before remembering to say something back. And to take a video of his own. fuck, I want you so bad, want you to fucking ruin me, he wrote back. A part of him couldn’t believe how openly desperate he was being, but he found that he liked it; he liked the way it made him blush, he liked the way it felt to beg, to ask for what he wanted.

Richie’s response came fast: show me kitten. show me how you want me to fuck your pretty little ass.

Eddie moaned at the pet name; casual little nicknames were such a weakness for him. He was already so far gone, just picturing Richie’s cock inside of him, picturing him stroking his cock to thoughts of Eddie. The attention had his cock hard and leaking as he thrust his vibrator even deeper inside of himself, pumping it in and out a few more times before rolling over and getting on his hands and knees. It was hard to take a video from this angle, but he wanted to show off his ass and hide his face. Plus, there was something so hot about having his ass in the air and his face shoved in his pillow, looking like the perfect image of someone desperate to be fucked. He loved the way it made him feel, loved the thought of being so open for someone. For Richie.

He ended up shooting a short video as well, about ten seconds of him sliding his vibrator slowly in and out of himself, letting out soft little moans. He was pretty pleased with the way it turned out, his hole pink and smooth and wet as it stretched around his toy. The angle was a little weird, showing a lot of his room once or twice when his hand slipped a little, but overall he thought his ass looked amazing, if he did say so himself. He sent it and said, feels so good. do you want me to go faster?

As he sent it, he got settled on his back, forcing himself to go slow as he fucked himself while he waited for internet-Richie’s response. It was taking longer than before, and Eddie was getting antsy; it was so hard to drag it out, to not get ahead of himself. But whatever Richie was doing, Eddie knew it would be worth the wait. Still, he pouted as his cock ached, begging for attention.

He almost jumped out of his skin when he heard a knock at the door.

He groaned to himself and stayed put, fucking himself even slower as he waited for whoever it was to leave. But then the knocking continued, loud and incessant and obnoxious, and Eddie knew exactly who it was. He also knew he wasn’t going to go away any time soon, which honestly made him smile and blush. Richie had terrible timing, but Eddie would never be upset to see him.

Reluctantly, he slowly slid the toy out and pulled on his shorts, leaving his shirt off. He still had a pretty obvious boner, but his horny brain did not mind the idea of Richie seeing it. So he strode lazily down the hall, shouting a performatively annoyed, “I’m coming!” Finally, he opened the door, cocking his hip to the side and giving Richie an expectant look. “Can I help you?” he asked, a small smile dancing around the corner of his lips. He had to fight off a smirk at the wide eyed look Richie gave him as he ran his eyes over Eddie’s body.

“Fuck,” he muttered lowly, his eyes trained on Eddie’s cock, which was getting even harder the more Richie stared. Eddie bit his lip and grinned a little, making doe eyes at Richie. But Richie didn’t meet his gaze—instead he brushed past Eddie, his mouth still hanging open as he made his way urgently toward Eddie’s bedroom.

“Richie?” Eddie asked, a little let down that Richie’s hands weren’t all over him right now. But hey, if he was heading to Eddie’s bedroom he figured that was at least the right direction. He closed his front door and followed Richie into his room, where he found him staring at the bright pink vibrator on the bed. As confident and horny as Eddie was feeling, that still made him blush. He was only human. Crossing his arms, he said, bashful now, “I was kind of in the middle of something.”

Richie looked over at him, his cheeks bright red under his freckles. Then he got a glimmer of that trademark shit-eating grin on his face. “Eds, you fucking slut,” he said, sounding both delighted and breathless. “You are so fucking hot.”

Eddie flushed and tried not to squirm, but he couldn’t help but press his legs together, his eyes brightening. Fuck, was this actually happening? Shit, he needed to think of something witty to say. “You gonna do anything about it?” Okay, that kinda sounded like a corny porn, but he had to give himself credit for even being able to form words just after his lifelong crush and personal wet dream had just admitted his attraction to him.

“I think I already have been,” Richie said, still grinning.

Eddie cocked an eyebrow at him. He couldn’t help but smile back. “Oh yeah? How do you figure that?”

Eddie was expecting a confession. He was expecting something along the lines of you think I don’t notice how you look at me? or did you really think those were casual touches earlier? What he was not expecting was for Richie to unlock his phone and hold it up, showing Eddie the video he had just taken, the video he’d sent to internet-Richie.

Oh. Oh. Oh fuck.

“Oh my god, that’s you?” Eddie cried in disbelief.

“You’re telling me you didn’t recognize this dick?” Richie asked, swaggering over to Eddie, clearly enjoying himself.

“How did you recognize it was me?”

Richie nodded toward the Thundercats poster on Eddie’s wall, then to the model train that sat on his dresser. “What other guy has decor like that and the ass to match?”

Eddie grinned and shook his head. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Well pardon me for not being especially eloquent when I’ve just learned that the guy I’ve been masturbating to since I learned how to and been in love with for even longer has been masturbating to me too.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide, all thoughts of getting fucked leaving for a moment. “You’re in love with me?” he asked, his voice as soft as his smile.

Richie was not a bashful person, but the little laugh he let out just then was close to it. “Have been my whole life, but thanks for finally noticing.”

Eddie shook his head and stepped closer, until he had to crane his head up to meet Richie’s gaze. “I love you too.”

Richie’s eyes widened behind his thick frames. Eddie had only seen that look in Richie’s eyes a few times before, but he never wanted to lose sight of it again. He always wanted Richie to look at him like that. But then Richie was closing his eyes and leaning down. It only took Eddie a second to get with the program, drinking in the moment just a little longer before letting his own eyes fall shut as he pressed his lips against Richie’s.

It started gentle enough, if deep and passionate and intentional. But then Richie’s hands were on Eddie’s bare waist, skin against skin, and Eddie was gasping into Richie’s mouth, his hands coming up and resting against Richie’s chest. He curled his fingers into Richie’s shirt as Richie ran his tongue over Eddie’s lips, just before pulling away. He laughed at Eddie’s indignant little whine.

“Oh, you mean you don’t want me to take off my shirt right now?” he smirked as Eddie tried to pull him closer by the offending fabric. Huffing, Eddie conceded and let go long enough to let Richie pull the shirt off over his head.

“Oh,” he said softly, his voice a little, awed moan as he drank in Richie’s chest. It wasn’t like Richie had never been shirtless in front of Eddie before, but Eddie had never felt like he was allowed to really look at Richie all those times. But now he could; now he could touch. And he did, running his fingers over Richie’s smooth, warm skin, over his acne scars and blackheads and freckles. “Fuck, Richie,” he sighed before pressing his lips to Richie’s collarbones, trailing them all over Richie’s beautiful chest.

Richie gave a breathless, almost shy laugh as he stroked Eddie��s hair. “Damn, Eds, never pegged you as a tits guy.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Eddie giggled, bringing his lips back to Richie’s. They both smiled into it, getting lost for a moment as Richie’s hands slid slowly down Eddie’s sides. His hands lingered on Eddie’s hips for a moment before he slid them further down and grabbed at Eddie’s ass, making him gasp.

“Is that any way to talk to the guy who’s about to rail you ‘til you can’t walk?”

“What’re you gonna do about it?” Eddie asked with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Spank me?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Richie smirked. He gave Eddie’s ass a playful smack, making Eddie gasp again and fall into him, needing more. Richie’s voice was dripping with adoration as he purred, “Little brat,” and pulled Eddie against him, kissing him again. Eddie went with it easily and happily parted his lips to let Richie lick into his mouth. Richie had one hand gripping Eddie’s jaw and the other on his ass, touching him in a way that exuded a command Eddie was desperate to follow. God, Eddie knew Richie had big hands, but they felt huge on him like this. It was dizzyingly hot. And the way Richie’s tongue was teasing his had Eddie’s knees going weak. His dick was throbbing in his shorts, aching to finish what he’d started, what had been interrupted. When he thought about it all—about playing with himself for Richie, about the video Richie had sent him, about all those things Richie had said about filling Eddie up—he felt himself clench down on nothing, desperate to get fucked. Desperate to feel Richie’s cock so deep inside of him.

“Richie,” he whined into the kiss, pulling on Richie’s belt loops, “please.” He pressed himself urgently against Richie and rutted shamelessly against his thigh.

“Fuck, you’re a needy little thing, aren’t you?” His voice was cocky and teasing, but there was an apparent undercurrent of wonder there as well.

Eddie shoved his face into Richie’s neck and whined, grabbing onto Richie’s wrists without even knowing what his goal was. “Richie,” he whimpered, sounding pitiful and ruined already.

“What do you want, baby?” Richie’s voice made it clear that he was enjoying seeing Eddie this wrecked, and that just made Eddie even harder. “Come on, tell me, use your words.”

Eddie squirmed as Richie held him close, but still not touching him in any relieving way. “I need you inside,” Eddie said, his voice high and soft as he squirmed in Richie’s grip. “God, please, Richie, need you to fuck me. Fuck me so hard I can’t even think. Fuck me like I’m your little toy.”

Eddie could hardly believe the words coming out of his mouth, and judging by the gasp he heard Richie let out, he’d caught Richie off guard too. But if the hard bulge in his jeans that brushed up against Eddie was any indication, he was apparently just as turned on as Eddie was. Besides, Eddie knew from his blog that Richie was really into that sort of thing too—and, apparently, really into the idea of doing those things with Eddie. The realization that Richie had been saying all those filthy things about him had him grinding against him with even more fervor, kissing his neck with a heated confidence. Richie moaned, and Eddie could feel the warmth of it spreading through him. “Yeah, sweetheart? You want to feel me inside you? You think you’re ready for me?”

“Yes,” Eddie sighed, looking up at Richie with wide, desperate eyes. He shivered at the new look in Richie’s eyes, the blue nearly entirely eclipsed by how wide his pupils were. He looked hungry for Eddie; Eddie wanted to feel it. “‘M ready, Richie, please, so open for you.” He looked to the toy on his bed pointedly, but Richie only gave a deep laugh.

“Oh honey, that’s cute that you think that little thing is gonna have you ready for my cock.” Eddie’s breath caught; that toy wasn’t small. Before he could gather his scattered brain enough to react, Richie was scooping him up and tossing him on the bed, the toy falling forgotten to the floor. Richie moved Eddie onto his back, and Eddie went happily, pliantly. Richie’s fingers were cool against Eddie’s burning skin as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of Eddie’s shorts, slowly dragging them over his hips and down his legs, tossing them to the floor. Eddie’s cock was dripping with precome, his chest flushed a bright red as he squirmed under Richie’s gaze. Eddie been dreaming of Richie manhandling him like this for he didn’t even know how long; he couldn’t help the way he reacted. And he especially couldn’t help the pleased little sound he made when Richie murmured, “God, you’re gorgeous, Eds.” Then Richie was grabbing him by the ankles, gently but firmly spreading Eddie’s legs, and Eddie let out the most pathetic, genuine moan he’d ever heard. “Fuck, baby, you sound pretty. You like when I spread you open?” Richie asked. He was smirking down at Eddie, but Eddie could see how flushed he was, could see the thrilled awe in his dark, hungry eyes as Eddie nodded.

“Richie, please,” Eddie whimpered. “I need you so bad.” He sat up, reaching for Richie’s belt, but Richie easily pressed him back against the mattress with a large hand on the center of his chest. The confidence in Richie’s dominance took Eddie’s breath away, and he stayed right where he was, nice and obedient, as he watched Richie get off the bed and slowly undo his belt, then his button and zipper. He took his time dragging his jeans and boxers off, enough time to let Eddie’s eyes linger on the reveal of the dark hair under Richie’s waistband. Then Richie’s cock was bouncing up against his stomach, hard and flushed and fucking long. Eddie moaned at the sight and fisted the sheets underneath him. He wanted so badly to get his mouth on Richie, to breathe him in and be nice and good for Richie on his knees. But he was also desperate to get fucked; his hole clenched down on nothing at the thought, and then it was all he could think about again. “Richie,” he repeated, whining now as he reached for him. “Stop being such a tease.”

Richie laughed as he moved easily out of Eddie’s grip and climbed on top of him. Eddie gasped softly at the sight of Richie above him, his dark curls surrounding his face, his full, pink lips pulled into the most beautiful smile Eddie had ever seen in his life. He ran his hands over Richie’s chest and sides, marveling at the fact that this was really happening. Then, his eyes flickering down, he tentatively brought his hand to Richie’s cock.

“Oh, fuck,” they said, both at the same time, making them giggle together.

“Fuck, Eds, your pretty little hand looks so cute wrapped around my cock,” Richie teased in a low, rough voice. Eddie shivered; he couldn’t tell if Richie was praising him or degrading him, but either way it made his head fuzzy.

“‘M not that little,” Eddie grumbled out of habit. But he was clearly breathless. He’d never been good at pretending not to like Richie’s compliments, however teasing.

“Aw, but you are, baby,” Richie cooed, nuzzling his nose against Eddie’s and pressing a lingering kiss to his lips. “You’re so cute and tiny for me. I don’t even know if we’ll be able to fit my cock inside you.”

“I can,” Eddie whined, both indignant and impatient. He bucked his hips up, but Richie held him down. He gasped when he felt the warm, soft skin of Richie’s cock press against his stomach. Looking down, he saw that Richie had his cock lying on Eddie’s stomach, showing just how deep he would be once he was inside Eddie.

“You sure about that, babydoll?” While the teasing note was still there, Richie’s voice got noticeably softer as he said, “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

Eddie’s chest swelled at that. Cupping Richie’s face in his hands, he insisted, “I can take it.” Then he reached down and took Richie in his hand, glowing with pride when Richie let out a low moan. “Richie, please, I want you so bad.”

“Okay, baby,” Richie agreed, turning his head to kiss Eddie’s palm. “Fuck, I want you, too.” But he stalled. “Have you ever… like, been fucked before?”

Eddie flushed. “Well, not by someone else, but I have some toys. I’m not gonna break, Richie.” He huffed, but the way Richie was looking at him soothed any ruffled feathers.

“I’m your first?” His smile was soft, and while his eyes glittered, there was nothing teasing about his tone.

“I didn’t wanna do it with anyone else,” Eddie mumbled. He tried to look away, but Richie pulled him into a kiss.

“Fuck, I never thought you’d want me,” he chuckled. “Sorry, that was depressing, I just mean I can’t believe we didn’t do this sooner, you know?”

Eddie beamed, a small, giddy giggle dancing on his lips. “Well it’ll happen sooner if you stop talking so much.” But his smile, and all of the little kisses he planted on Richie’s freckled shoulders told Richie that Eddie never wanted him to stop talking.

“Alright, alright, sheesh, I know I’m hot but you don’t gotta rush me.” Eddie was still giggling when Richie kissed him, and he could feel that Richie was smiling too. “Where’s your lube?”

Eddie stretched his hand out and patted the bed for a moment, searching. After what was probably only four seconds but felt like an eternity, he finally found the bottle and handed it eagerly to Richie. “Oh, right,” Richie smirked, “you’re already wet for me, aren’t you?” Eddie moaned as Richie swiped his fingers over Eddie’s slick hole, pressing in just a bit. His fingers went in easily, and he pumped them slowly, drawing little, breathy moans out of Eddie. Richie’s fingers were a lot longer and thicker than his own, and they felt amazing, but they weren’t what he wanted in that moment.

“Richie, fuck me,” he whined.

“Aw, no please? Again?” Richie tsked and shook his head, curling his fingers against Eddie’s prostate, making him cry out. “I told you, sweetheart, only good boys who use their manners get fucked.”

“Please,” Eddie cried. He rocked his hips and grabbed at Richie’s shoulders, at his arms, not even sure what his goal was there other than to get Richie closer, to get his attention, to show him how desperate he was. “Please fuck me, please.” He sounded pathetic begging like this, but that just made him harder. And it made Richie’s pupils even wider as he slid his fingers out of Eddie and pressed a kiss to his lips.

“Good boy,” he purred. Eddie moaned and arched into Richie’s touch, but he only gave Eddie one more kiss on his cheek before pulling back and covering his cock in lube. Eddie watched, entranced, as Richie’s hand moved smoothly over his cock, glistening and slick. Then Richie was gently spreading Eddie’s legs even further and pressing the head of his cock against Eddie’s hole.

“Yes,” Eddie whimpered brokenly, grasping at the sheets beneath him. “Richie, please.” Meeting his gaze, he said softly, “I need you.”

“I’ve got you,” Richie assured him in a voice that made Eddie feel like he was glowing. Richie took Eddie’s hand in his and entwined their fingers, using his other hand to guide his cock inside of Eddie, who gasped at the feeling. God, he couldn’t believe this was happening. He couldn’t believe his first time was going to be with his favorite person. He couldn’t believe he was finally getting exactly what he wanted. Love flooded through him, warm and perfect, somehow both soothing and electrifying as he watched Richie’s face. Eddie’s mouth dropped as Richie pressed into him, deeper and deeper and still fucking deeper, until finally Richie let out a low moan and Eddie felt absolutely breathless. The stretch was intense, and he held onto Richie tightly as he caught his breath. “Are you alright?” Richie asked. His voice was strained, but the care and concern in it was clear. “You don’t have to take all of it if it’s too much.”

Eddie wanted to laugh at the remark or roll his eyes, but with how breathless and dizzied by pleasure he already was, he had to admit Richie had a point. “Just need a minute,” he gasped. Richie ran a soothing hand over Eddie’s skin, helping him even out his breathing and relax. The feeling of Richie’s cock twitching in anticipation inside of him had him letting out little moans as he adjusted, getting more and more used to the feeling until he felt comfortable enough to tell Richie he could move. Richie kissed him before he did, his lips soft against Eddie’s, a reassuring weight. Eddie breathed in sharply as Richie pulled back, grabbing at Richie’s shoulders.

Richie immediately stopped. “You okay, baby?” he asked, caressing Eddie’s face.

Eddie wanted to melt. Richie was always touching him, always jokingly flirting with him, but this unabashed concern and, well, love had previously been reserved for dire situations, like panic attacks or injuries. Eddie couldn’t help the dopey smile that bloomed on his face as he tilted his chin up and kissed Richie. “I’m okay,” he said breathlessly. “It’s just a little different from my vibrator.” They both gave a shaky laugh as Richie nuzzled his nose against Eddie’s.

“Better, I hope?” he grinned.

“Can’t tell yet,” Eddie retorted. Another snarky comment was on the tip of his tongue when Richie pulled his hips further back, effectively sucking all the air—and attitude—from Eddie’s chest. And then Richie was pushing back in, and Eddie let out a moan he couldn’t have faked if he tried, relaxing back into the mattress as his eyes fell shut. It was the best thing he’d ever felt, pleasure and relief flooding through his body. They’d been building up this tension for years; Eddie had figured it would feel good to break it, but it really felt magical, like something had just clicked into place. Feeling Richie inside of him, rocking his hips carefully, feeling Richie twitch as he tried not to lose control had Eddie’s head reeling. Eddie’s eyes fluttered open, focusing on Richie above him, on how flushed his face was. When Richie met his eye, pressing in deep, Eddie let out a small, “Fuck.”

“Yeah? Does that feel good, sweetheart?”

Richie was smirking as he said it, but there was something else sparkling in his eyes. Something giddy and awed. Something that made Eddie sigh dreamily, “I love you.”

Richie’s eyes widened for a moment before he pressed his lips firmly against Eddie’s, his hands roaming over Eddie’s body like he couldn’t choose where to put them, where to touch him. “I love you so much,” he beamed, pressing a few more kisses to Eddie’s cheeks. Eddie giggled at the feeling, but then Richie’s hips moved just a little faster, pressing him in just a little deeper, and he was back to melting under Richie’s touch, clinging to him as he rocked his hips with Richie’s. “Fuck, you’re so amazing, baby, so fucking beautiful. You look so good like this, holy shit.”

Eddie smiled almost drunkenly at Richie’s ability to ramble even when blowing Eddie’s mind. “Feels so good,” he moaned, his voice breathy and just a little bit higher than normal. He wrapped his legs around Richie’s waist. “Please, Richie, please.”

“Fuck, baby, wanna make you feel like this all the fucking time,” Richie groaned as he picked up the pace. Eddie whined in pleasure at the change, and that just spurred Richie to go faster, harder, until he was well and truly fucking Eddie, both of them moaning with every thrust.

“Oh my god,” Eddie cried, “ohmygodohmygodhmygod, oh fuck, Richie, please.” It felt so amazing, Richie fucking into him like this, but he needed that little bit more. His cock was throbbing desperately, achingly hard; he needed to feel Richie’s hand on him. “Richie, please,” he whimpered, “please, please touch me. I need you, I need you so bad, please, Richie.” Eddie was pouting now, grabbing aimlessly at Richie, his legs still wrapped tight around him.

“Fuck, you’re so hard for me,” Richie marveled, his voice sweet and condescending as he wrapped his hand around Eddie’s cock. Eddie nearly screamed at the contact, his back arching off the bed. Richie laughed a little, which just made Eddie even harder. The way Richie spread his precome over his cock, twisting his wrist just so as he stroked him had that familiar tension coiling in his lower stomach. “Aw, does that feel good? You gonna come on my cock, kitten?”

“Fuck, yes!” Eddie screamed. He gripped at the sheets as Richie stroked him, his voice washing over Eddie, mixing with the pleasure of Richie’s touch, of his thrusts. “Yes, yes, yes, please let me come, please, please, please.”

“That’s a good boy,” Richie purred, and Eddie could feel himself tipping over the edge at the words, at how low and affected Richie’s voice was. He groaned out, “Come on my cock like a good boy, princess,” and pure pleasure crashed over Eddie like a wave. He arched his back and cried out as he came, his moans filling the room as he squirmed under Richie, grabbed at him, at the sheets. It was fucking ethereal. He felt somehow so in tune with his body and yet so detached, like he was floating. He was barely cognizant of what Richie was saying, but when he put the sounds together and realized Richie had just said, panting, “Fuck, baby, gonna come,” Eddie felt like a live wire again.

“In me,” he said urgently. His mind was still a little too scattered for full sentences, but he knew what he wanted. God, he felt like he needed it. Like he needed to feel that connected to Richie. “Richie, come inside me, please.”

Richie apparently didn’t need to be told twice; he let out a moaned, “Oh, fuck,” before burying his face in Eddie’s neck, his breathy moans like music in Eddie’s ear. And then, as Eddie was coming down from his own high, he felt the holiest thing in the world: Richie’s cock, twitching inside of him, then his warm come filling Eddie up. It was unreal, being this close to him. Richie clutching at him as he came. It was even better than the little fantasies Eddie occasionally allowed himself. Richie was here, in his arms, pressing kisses to his neck as he caught his breath. Eddie was stroking his hair and rubbing his back as Richie nuzzled into him. Richie’s skin pressed against his skin, his legs wrapped around Richie’s waist, then falling to his sides, but still pressed to him. Still keeping him close. There wasn’t a single thought in his head that wasn’t about Richie.

Richie pulled him from his dreamy haze with light kisses pressed up his jaw, then over his cheeks. Eddie giggled at the onslaught of affection, still reeling from how fucking hot and euphoric what they had just done together had been. But he happily accepted Richie’s kisses, his heart bursting, then racing as Richie pulled back to look in his eyes. “Holy, fuck,” Richie beamed, his face flushed and blue eyes hooded from the weight of his orgasm, even as they sparkled.

“I know,” Eddie said, returning Richie’s grin as he basked in the surreality of having Richie on top of him, his dorky yet charming smile framed by lips that were red and swollen because of Eddie. His glasses were knocked askew, and Eddie instinctively reached up to fix them. With a sense of wonder, he realized that his touch was allowed to linger this time. He ran his fingers down Richie’s cheekbones, over his jaw, cupped his cheeks. “I love you,” he said. The words spilled out over his lips like he couldn’t stand not to say them. And while it made his heart race a little to say it out loud now that the adrenaline and tension was all worked through, it felt even better this time when Richie’s face softened and he nuzzled his nose against Eddie’s.

“I love you so fucking much.” Richie’s voice rarely got that soft, that sincere; it felt like a blanket wrapping around Eddie. It felt safe, secure. It felt like a promise. And if there was anyone in the world Eddie knew he could trust, it was Richie. That feeling of everything coming together came back to Eddie as he lay there under Richie, their lips moving together, feeling light as a feather now that everything was finally out in the open.

#reddie #notsfw #reddie smut #reddie fic

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eitelle · 3 years

Text

-- holy mashed-potato-moly

! this is something I'm doing because i miss yall and because im bored. i would like to reiterate i am NOT writing anymore, except if it's something im proud of or feel i have enough time to do and genuinely enjoy. with that being said, please enjoy this limited edition pastry this holiday evening, brought to you by (y/n), kageyama tobio, and yours truly. enjoy ! yes, i am doing this on my comp so until i wanna edit it this is the god awful format you're getting

brief summary: you and your thickheaded brother's best friend have to plan this year's thanksgiving dinner.

warnings: none just friendly (lowk annoying) banter

genre: fluff, frenemies to lovers/forced proximity trope

5 years. It has been 5 years since your brother's best friend has started spending thanksgiving with your family. it's not like kuroo tetsurou had no family. it's not like this was the only place he could go. no, if that were the case maybe you wouldn't be so frustrated every year around this time. this year you turned 16, and as family tradition goes, 16 year olds always make and plan thanksgiving dinner.

ever since you were little youd been looking forward to this. yet, this year, kuroo also turned 16.

16: a year of freedom, self-discovery, joy, leadership, maturity. kuroo tetsurou would NOT mess this up for you. no, you simply woulddnt let him.

"y/n?" you heard along with some knocks on the door. "can i come in?"

'speak of the devil,' you thought, the thought being so loud you thought you almost said it out loud. "uh, yeah sure," you replied.

as he came into you sitting on your bed, a box of tissues, many used ones already littered all over your bed, sitting there as well as headphones and random red clothing. all of this was for your weekly binge listen to red rerecord, a ritual everyone whod known you was familiar with.

"oh," kuroo said with a quick glance around your room. "sorry, is this a bad time?"

"oh no youre fine. i was just cleaning up anyways."

"well i'm good at cleaning. i guess. if you wanted me to help. i dont really care."

"ok tsundere. its fine i got it but next time if you wanted to help me clean you might as well have put on a maid outfit. maybe some cat ears too. add in a little spice. you're too dry and plain anyways."

"oh, i'm dry and plain now?"

"yup. pretty much"

"and, let me guess, you're 'spicy'?" he asked mockingly.

as this banter went on, he finally got to what he came in to ask in the first place.

"ok but for real, we should talk about thanksgiving."

"what about it?"

"i know how much it means to you, and i know how much you hate me. so, i'll get out of your way. you cook, i'll clean."

"sounds good to me. as long as i dont have to work together with you, i'll be just fine."

"fine."

"fine," he says, hoping to get the last word as he slammed the door shut behind him as he exited.

"fine," you muttered under your breath determined to not let him get what he wants. as you sat there contemplating what just happened, you notice your abnormal heart rate. "what the fuck calm down. that was just tetsu, you've known him since you were 10, you've had so many conversations with him before. why are you acting so weird? get it together yn." then, you let sleep overtake you and you passed out.

5 days before the big day, kuroo (reluctantly) drives you out to the grocery store to get all of your essentials. As soon as you get there and get a cart, he opens the door and says, "ladies first," with his eyes looking like nala from the lion king.

with a smirk you respond, "so why aren't you going? it's obvious i have big dick energy, and you just, simply, dont." as he scoffs but goes in he turns to you with a smirk. thinking this cant be good, you prepare yourself.

"oh, by the way, i forgot to bring my wallet. have fun love," he winked and walked off.

"asshole," you mutter under your breath. good thing you have enough money to buy all you need plus a little extra. getting to the cans aisle, with kags (unfortunately), you squat down to get the cranberries at the very bottom shelf.

looking up at the rooster haired man above you, you scowl and ask, "are you just going to stare or are you going to help me out here."

"now why would i help you when i have this pretty view all to myself."

"tch," you say ignoring the effect his words had on you. just then, a child whizzed past knocking you off your balance, causing you to land on your butt ending up sitting like a toddler.

as fast as it happened you almost immediately hear kuroo ask, "are you okay?" and offer a hand to help you up.

as you get up yourself, ignoring his hand, you look away from him all flustered and embarrassed and mumble a small, "im okay thanks."

you then hear, "oh okay. good."

as the rest of the shopping trip goes smoothly without kags bothering you another time, a bit to your (what feels like), dismay.

as thanksgiving day approached, people just kept coming. as you made food and basted the turkey, and prepared desserts, you had one thing left to do, and arguably the most important, the mashed potatoes.

as you started to make them, you realized kuroo wasnt present to open the door for the people ringing so you quickly abandon the pretty much done mashed potatoes on the stove with the heat on.

you greet the people and guide them to where theyd be waiting before the food was ready and quickly hurried back as kuroo pulled up in the driveway with some more, you guessed it, people.

as soon as you get back in the kitchen, you walk in to realize the mashed potatoes had exploded on the stovetop.

you quickly holler for kuroo and pray he gets here soon to help you clean up.

as soon as he arrives you hear him wolf whistle and whisper, ‘holy shit’ underneath his breath. motioning for him to come to you quickly with big gestures, you immediately panic to him. “FUCK KUROO WHAT DO I DO. IT LIKE EXPLODED I LEFT IT FOR 10 MINUTES MAX AND WE HAVE TO PUT FOOD OUT IN LIKE 5. I CANT NOT PUT THESE OUT THERE THIS IS LIKE EVERYONES FAVORITE FOOD!” you exclaim.

“hey chillax babe im gonna help you clean it up as soon as you get those sweet potatoes from the oven.”

as you do what he told you to do, you get the potatoes out unpeeled into a pot.

“ok just unpeel those and make mashed potatoes ok? just trust me this is what we used to do in my family its 10x better.”

then you quickly plate everything and present it to the table it being a huge hit.

“and thats how i fell in love with your father,” you finish telling your kids at your thanksgiving dinner, for the it being the 22nd year having that recipe on the table.

#haikyuu!!#haikyu x reader #haikyu oneshots #haikyu fanfiction #kozuelle haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu headcanons #kuroo smau #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x reader #haikyuu kuroo #kuroo tetsurō #kuroo x y/n #kuroo imagine #kuroo tetsuro x you

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pandastern · 4 years

Text

Gravity (Bakugou x OC)

Part 13: Same Chains - Different Colours

If youd like to be tagged to the taglist for upcoming parts please dm me :)

Masterlist II AO3

Bakugou x Vigilante!OC

Warnings: angst, explicit language, violence

Word count: 1715

Genre: enemies to lovers ; angst ; romance, slow burn

When a new student makes an entrance, Bakugou has a real bad feeling. There is something about this girl that just doesnt feel right. From the flaming hair to the calculating glint in her green eyes, everything about her just pisses him off.

Little does he know that his fate is intertwined with the person he despises so much, defining his future path in a way he would have never expected

By the time Artemis arrived at the tribunes where her class were seated, she still hadn’t quite shaken off her most recent discovery. Her classmates greeted her, Iida and Ochako making some space for her to sit down.

“Hey, Artemis! They announced you're dropping out of the competition. Are you doing okay?” Ochako asked.

“You missed the Cavalry Battle! Most of our classmates made it into the final round,” Iida explained in full class rep mode, gesturing with his signature hand chop motion.

Despite their enthusiasm, Artemis could sense the concern beneath her friends’ expressions.

“Yes, I’m okay. I guess I wasn’t as healed as I thought I was, so they took me out of the competition.” Artemis sighed inwardly and tried her best to crack a smile, despite the discomfort she felt. “I’m… sorry I worried you.”

“We’re your friends! You’re allowed to make us worry once in a while,” said Ochako.

Artemis frowned slightly, but decided not to respond. Was it really that natural to worry for someone? These people barely knew her, and yet all of them acted like they’d been friends for years.

Taking a deep breath, she put on her best friendly face and listened as Kaminari and Sero behind her updated her on the latest events. She was a little surprised to find out that Ojiro had dropped out voluntarily, though she could understand his reasoning. For some people, pride was very important. More so than results.

“It’s as if that Shinsou guy brainwashed me or something. I don't exactly know what he did or what his quirk is, but Midoriya had better be careful,” Ojiro grumbled once he’d finished his story.

“Shinsou?” Artemis asked. “Wait… wasn't he the guy who tried to start shit with us? The fuzzy purple head?”

“Yep, that’s the one. Midoriya is up against him in the next fight. I just wish I could give him enough pointers to win.”

“Brainwashing, huh?”

That was an interesting quirk, Artemis thought. How was a person like that not in the Hero course? When you considered the possibilities a quirk like that could give you during fights, it seemed stupid and an incredible waste not to utilise powers like that for the Hero course. Then again, it explained his antagonistic attitude.

Before she could dive deeper into her thoughts, a lady with a snack cart pushed into their seating area, offering food and drinks. To Artemis’s absolute delight, she spotted a selection of much-needed energy drinks.

“Oh God, yes!” she groaned.

Finally, something was going her way today.

She jumped up, pushed forward and grabbed two cans of her very own survival liquid and a bag of chips. The thought of the treats was already lifting her mood. She’d paid and had just pushed past Denki to get to her seat, when suddenly a hand shot forward and grabbed the drinks in her hand.

“Oi, what-”

“Should you really be drinking that garbage, dumbass?” Bakugou growled into her ear.

Artemis hadn't even noticed the bane of her existence entering their seating compartment. When had he gotten up here? The sound of his voice sent a shiver down her spine and her stomach lurched again.

“Are you gonna police what I drink now?” she hissed, though she didn’t look up at him.

The scent of burnt sugar wafted around her, making her heart race. Fucking hell.

Instead of arguing further, Bakugou pulled the cans out of her grasp and put them back in the cart before handing her an iced tea.

Words couldn't explain how badly Artemis wanted to throw his ass over the fence and watch his body plummet several stories down into the arena. She let out a frustrated growl and finally met his eyes, ready to snap at him, an action she regretted instantly.

Her breath caught in her throat as she realised just how close Bakugou was standing next to her. It also didn't help that her brain instantly replayed the scene in the infirmary. Heat spread across her cheeks.

Thankfully, Bakugou seemed to have the same problem, and Artemis decided that even though she was in desperate need of caffeine, it wasn’t worth causing a scene right here in the open. Especially since she now realised that everyone was staring at them.

She pulled away with a huff, took the tea and sat back down, very determined not to look at Bakugou again so as to calm down her rapid heartbeat. What the hell was wrong with her, anyway?

“Dickwad,” she muttered to herself.

The curious whispers of the classmates who had witnessed the whole spectacle didn’t go unnoticed by her. However, she opted that ignoring it was the better strategy for now. Stubbornly sipping at the drink in her hand, she tried to focus her attention on the competition in the arena.

Artemis watched as her friend Midorya scored the first victory against Shinsou. And while she was happy for her friend, she couldn’t help but be more interested in watching Shoto Todoroki fight next. The words of his father echoed in her mind, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand. She’d never paid much attention to the quiet boy, mostly because he usually prefered to be alone.

As Midoriya and Todoroki’s flames clashed in the arena, Artemis realized that she’d never seen him use the fire side of his quirk before today. And seeing Endeavor’s reaction to his son activating his left side told her why.

With a loud roar, the number two hero’s voice echoed through the entire arena: “Shoto, have you finally accepted yourself? Good! It all begins from here. With my blood, you’ll be able to surpass me. You will fulfill my desire!”

Artemis’s body stiffened as the memories of her father started to flood her brain.

Your power is my gift! You shall pave the way for New Olympus!

Why was it that men like Endeavor and her father always glorified their own blood, thinking it justified to turn the people around them into tools, not caring about the price other people had to pay for their hunger for power?

Ice spread through Artemis’s veins. She understood. And for the first time, she saw Todoroki. He was like her, in a way, rejecting the chains that bound him to that monster he had to call father. Todoroki was a tool, a weapon in the eyes of his maker, existing purely for the selfish gains of a Hero who didn’t deserve his title.

The revelation hit her like a gunshot, flinging her back into the dark, cold room she’d once called her home. A cage built only for her, robbing her of any humanity she possessed, until she couldn't feel anymore. The rage she saw in his eyes was the same that burned inside her.

A warm hand wrapped around her wrist, pulling her out of the endless stream of memories that threatened to drag her into the dark.

“Artemis?”

Instinctively, she swatted away the hand that had touched her without consent, then flinched. Her head whipped around to the person who’d said her name.

Ochako gave her a concerned look. “Are you all right? You’re as white as a sheet. Do you feel unwell?”

Artemis took a deep breath and forced herself to smile at her friend. “No, I’m… I’m okay. Sorry.”

She could tell Ochako didn’t quite believe her, but she didn’t pry, which made Artemis very grateful. After all, her story wasn’t something she wanted to tell anyone. It was bad enough that she had to carry the memories inside her heart, having them haunt her dreams the moment she closed her eyes.

These flashbacks were getting annoying. It frustrated her that she had no control over what could trigger another episode, and the lack of caffeine that usually kept her brain buzzing and distracted didn’t help either. She’d have to come up with more effective ways to keep her brain busy from now on.

The Festival progressed without any further surprises. Artemis tried to pay attention to what was happening inside the arena as best as she could, but her thoughts kept drifting off. To her annoyance, the time her attention peaked was when Bakugou was standing in the ring. Watching him fight was fascinating, not that she would ever admit that to anyone.

It seemed to her that Bakugou was made of pure determination and strength. Every attack, every explosion, was well-planted. The man was a ferocious fighter and strategist, brimming with talent. So, it didn't come as a shock to her that Bakugou easily moved forward in the competition into the finale. And yet something felt off. Artemis couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but something in Bakugou’s demeanor told her he was growing more and more frustrated by the second.

Unlike the fight with Midoriya, Todoroki seemed to refuse to use his fire again, which seemed to rile Bakugou up even more.

Artemis leaned over to Midoriya, who’d joined them on the tribunes after his fight with Todoroki, and whispered into his ear. “Say, is it just me, or does Bakugou seem more aggressive than usual?”

“Hm, so you’ve noticed too,” Midoriya replied with a serious look on his face. “I can't be sure, but it seems to me he’s taking Todoroki’s behaviour as a personal insult.”

“Insult? Why? Because he’s not using flames?”

Midoriya nodded. “Kacchan has this mindset that if you don’t give a hundred percent, it’s because you think he’s not worth it.”

What was it Bakugou had said to her in the infirmary? If you can't give your best, why are you even here?

No wonder he was screaming at Todoroki to use his flames. In his head, he probably thought since Todoroki had used both sides of his quirk in the fight against his childhood rival Midoriya, he was looking down at Bakugou by not doing the same thing.

He didn't understand what using the fire side meant for Todoroki, what was connected to that part of him. Artemis wasn't sure he could even if he was told.

She couldn't explain why, but watching that fight was painful. Maybe it was because no matter whether Bakugou or Todoroki ended up standing last, neither of them would be able to enjoy their victory.

Tagg list:

@sammyluvzz @chicledechoclo

#bakugou #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #gravity #fanfiction #mha fic #bnha fic #mha x oc #mha x reader #bnha x oc #bnha x reader #bakugou x oc #bakugou x reader

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dupswriteblr · 5 years

Text

There’s Something In The Woods At Camp Goodwill

tw: gore, body horror, vague, non-explicit implications of consensual sex, brief mention of sexual assault.

if there’s anything else youd like tagged, please let me know!! stay safe

Seventeen-year-old Katie Nicolson was not the first person to fall for Zediah Rennel, and she was sure that she would not be the last.

He was something of a catch, she thought. He was slender, long-legged, with deep-set eyes, a square jaw, and full lips that Katie very much wanted to kiss until they bled. His torso and some of his face were marked with pale, crisscrossing scars. They made Katie think of a roadmap that told a story of knife fights or broken shards of glass or...something similar, she thought.

Lost in her thoughts about the beautiful boy dozing beside her, Katie absent-mindedly began to run her thumb over the skin of his pale cheek. Her thumb grazed against one of the scars. The old wound felt like sandpaper against her thumb, a ravine carved into otherwise impeccably smooth skin.

His eyes—a startlingly pale green, nearly silver, soul-searching—fluttered open, and he smiled up at her.

“Hello, doll,” he said, smiling with all of his teeth. “That’s my job.”

Katie giggled. She giggled like she was supposed to, and let him cup her cheek with one calloused hand, sighing contently as he mimicked her affectionate gesture.

“You’re gorgeous,” he said, mostly to himself, and that was how Katie knew he meant it.

The wind howled outside their tent, owls called out into the night, wolves howled off in the distance, and thunder rumbled from some kilometres away, deeper into the woods, beyond Camp Goodwill.

Goodwill was a camp that prided itself on being a place where youth offenders went to reform, a glorified boot camp, really, taking the form of a summer camp.

Zediah was there on charges related to… possession of marijuana, if Katie remembered it right. Something like that. He certainly didn’t act like a pothead, Katie thought. After all, he was a conventionally attractive rich kid who came from fucking Wellington, of all places.

Katie had been sent to Camp Goodwill for beating the shit out of one of her classmates. The bastard had tried to stick his hand up her skirt. The kid was an asshole, served him right, really. The teeth Katie had apparently knocked out were just comeuppance, just an Asshole Tax. Naturally, neither the cops nor the school administrators had believed a word of her story. As was the norm for cases like Katie’s, the smarmy, snivelling brat had gotten off scot-free with some bullshit about this or that, she didn’t remember.

Zediah wrapped an arm around her and pulled her in close. She hummed contently and buried her face in the pit of his chest.

“Are you alright?” He asked.

“I’m with you,” was her only reply, and Zediah’s smile lit up her world. She folded her knees up and threw one arm over her...boyfriend? Oh, she hoped so. She hoped this wasn’t a one-time thing.

There was a heavy sounding thump from outside, and Katie sat bolt upright. Zediah laughed softly in response.

“Scared, babe?” He asked, sitting up with her and flinging his arms over her neck, letting his clasped hands dangle over her chest.

Katie snorted. “Hardly.”

Still, though, she got off the slightly too small bed and stumbled across the tent on wobbly legs, grabbing Zediah’s hoodie from the floor and throwing it over herself. Zediah was slim, yes, but he was tall, with broad shoulders. Katie was no slouch in a fight, as evidenced by her reason for attending Camp Goodwill, but she was still short and built like a bloody willow branch. Zediah’s hoodie swallowed her.

He laughed from the bed.

“Shut,” Katie hissed, although her cheeks reddened and her eyes danced with mirth. “I’m gonna go check what that was. Maybe one of the bear bags fell down.”

That would be a problem, she thought as she pulled back the tent flap, Zediah’s hoodie hanging over her knees. There were bears in the woods.

The wind was strong, shaking the trees surrounding the campsite and pulling Katie’s bleach blonde hair in front of her face, the winds carding long fingers through her pale locks.

Thump.

Katie picked up the flashlight she’d left just outside Zediah’s tent and turned it on, the blessedly powerful beam sending rays of light across the forest floor.

She ran the beam over each of the bear bags, still hanging from their places up in the branches.

Thump.

Katie’s breath caught in her throat, and she found herself holding the heavy-duty flashlight to her breast like a baseball bat. The wind stopped tousling her hair with all the care of a lover and started to slice at the exposed skin on her face and legs with frigid cold needles.

She bit her tongue to keep from calling out hello? That was how people died in horror movies. “Katie.”

“Fuck!” Katie spun around to where the voice had come from—just to her left, close enough that she should have been able to feel hot breath touch her skin. “Who said that?”

There was nobody there.

“Katie?” Her heart flooded with relief, and she took a step backwards, one of her bare feet crumpling the material of the tent just below the zipper.

A freezing cold hand clamped over her mouth and nose. Katie screamed into the damp, cold palm, dropping the flashlight to the ground where it spun and sent bright light cascading around the campsite in a dizzying circle.

“I’m fine. Just putting the bear bags back up,” said the thing gripping a struggling Katie, in a perfect imitation of her voice. “I’ll be back in just a minute.”

“Zediah!”

Katie’s scream for the person who lay just a metre away from her went unheard, muffled by the hand of whatever the fuck made the woods surrounding Camp Goodwill its home.

It wasn’t a fucking bear.

The thing pressed its face close to Katie’s cheek. It did not breathe. “You say a word,” it hissed. “And I will cave your skull in. Is that clear?”

Katie nodded. It let go of her face, and Katie pulled in a strangled breath.

It gripped her shoulders and yanked her away just as she turned back to the tent.

Oh god, its face.

“There is not,” the thing that was not a person hissed, cupping her face in one hand in a gesture that almost mimicked compassion. “A person in the world who will save you.”

Katie whimpered. “Please,” she whispered. “Let me g—”

SNAP.

“Hey, babe?” hissed a voice that was almost Katie’s. “Could you come out here for a second?”

____________________________________________________________

The last person to wake up the next morning, oblivious to what had occurred the previous night, was Merrilyn Rakes, a familiar face to the managers of the camp. Her most recent stunt was breaking into her ex’s house and smashing his copy of that Empire game he’d been so obsessed over. Served him right, she thought, swinging herself up and out of bed, hopping off her lumpy and uncomfortable mattress. Stretching, she planted her feet on the much too thin sheet that offered a flimsy separation between her feet and the ground. Stones stuck up from beneath the mat and Merrilyn winced as she pulled her socks and shoes on.

There was some sort of commotion going on over at the guys’ neck of the woods. People were screaming bloody murder, Merrilyn could hear the shouting even through the tent and across the thin stretch of woods that led to the guys’ camp.

She didn’t even bother to change out of her tank top and shorts. She just shrugged her jacket on so fast she missed the left sleeve and left her coat hanging off her right side.

“What’s going on?” She said, sliding to a stop in the camp.

Kegan Merritt, an archetypical tough guy with a rap sheet a mile long, pointed one shaky finger at whatever people were screaming at. He was ghost white, although there was a faint green tinge to his skin. He then placed his hands on his knees and vomited all over his Nike Cortez shoes.

Curiosity got the better of her and Merrilyn pursed her lips. She started to walk towards the gathering. She covered her ears to drown out the screams about things bending in ways they were not supposed to bend. She tried to block out the sounds of nauseous gags and unanswered pleas for somebody to please call 111, there had to be a landline at the camp entrance if somebody just ran there oh god.

“Shut up,” Merrilyn hissed, and pushed some guy out of the way, one of the younger campers who seemed all too glad to be shoved out of the action.

Oh.

OH.

The first person Merrilyn saw was Katie Nicolson, lying...crumpled on the ground. She was nude, a hoodie that looked far too big for her lying beneath her head, folded neatly as if it were a makeshift pillow. There was nothing remotely attractive about the nudity. Katie lay on her side, bent fully in half. Katie’s arms reached outward as if to grasp at some aid that hadn’t come for her, her head resting by her feet. Her face was frozen, eyes wide open and bulging, jaw hanging loose. Dried blood and spittle pooled on the forest floor and at the corners of her lips.

A couple metres away was Zediah Rennel, also nude.

His torso and right arm had been crushed, blood and viscera pooling around his body. Merrilyn didn’t want to linger on the fact that he was looking at Katie, that his mouth was hanging open, not in a scream but a marker of his last, whispered word. She didn’t want to think about the undamaged arm. The arm that reached for Katie.

But she couldn’t tear her eyes away, even as her stomach flipped.

Somebody stepped forwards. It was Kegan, still green and shaking, but moving with a strange sense of purpose.

He removed the hoodie from underneath Katie’s head and shook it out to its full size like he was unfurling a beach towel. With all the care in the world, he laid it over the poor girl’s body like a burial shroud. “She doesn’t deserve this,” he whispered.

Merrilyn took off her jacket and covered Zediah’s corpse with it.

The campers calmed down somewhat, and one of the kids ran to get the counsellors. Everybody else sat tight and waited for their “supervisors” to arrive.

They knew the drill.

One of the counsellors arrived some minutes later, a scrawny, gaunt young woman with a round jaw. There wasn’t even a hint of green tinging her skin when she saw the two corpses. Worse, her admittedly already pale skin did not pale further when she removed the makeshift burial shrouds. There was a nametag on her plaid shirt, peeling off at one end. In faded text, it read: Counsellor Raine ツ

Her hair was cut short, trimmed into a neat, blonde bob. She smoothed out her slacks and wrinkled her nose at the sight before her as though it were a pile of foul-smelling garbage and not the corpses of two innocent teenagers.

“Well,” she said. “That’s a grisly sight.”

She removed her walkie-talkie from her belt and spoke into it, voice flat.

“We’ve got another one,” Counsellor Raine said, glancing at the bodies. “Two, actually.”

There came a garbled mess of words and frustrated exclamations from the walkie-talkie, and Counsellor Raine walked away, talking animatedly with whoever was on the other end.

“Another one?” Came a high-pitched voice to Merrilyn’s left. “What does that mean? Oh my god, what’s happening?”

Merrilyn stepped forward and wrapped one arm around a shaking girl. One of the newer campers, she thought, one who hadn’t seen this before. Chelsea, her name was, or something similarly youthful.

“C’mon,” Merrilyn said, pulling the quivering girl into a one-armed hug.

“Let’s go down by the creek, okay? I’ll explain everything once we’re there.”

Chelsea glanced up at her with wide, trembling, chestnut eyes, and the two of them staggered down to the creek, just a five-minute walk from the campsite.

They turned back only once, just in time to see a small group of counsellors removing the bodies and cleaning the gore as best they could from the forest floor. Chelsea whimpered from beside Merrilyn.

“What are they doing with the bodies?”

“Packing them into trash bags,” came Merrilyn’s terse reply. “And burying those bags deep in the woods.” “Oh,” Chelsea said, her eyes devoid of any spark or life as she stared down at the slow-moving waters of the creek. “Who...what killed them?”

Merrilyn sighed. “This is the part that gets a little...unbelievable.” “That girl—” Chelsea said, pointing one shaking finger towards the camp. “Was snapped in half from the inside. People don’t bend like that. Not unless their fucking spines are broken and their organs are shuffled around. And the boy—” She turned slightly, pointing at the approximate location of Zediah’s body. “That boy had his torso and right arm crushed so bad they looked like hamburger meat. Tell me it’s aliens from space, swear to god, I’ll believe you.”

Chelsea shuddered, her voice softening. “No animal I know of could do something like that.”

Merrilyn raised an eyebrow at the girl’s burst of anger and subsequent—and rapid—cooldown.

“Katie Nicolson and Zediah Renner.” “What?” “Those were their names.” Chelsea mouthed those words over and over again as if she were trying to commit them to memory.

Maybe she was.

“Now sit,” Merrilyn said, and swallowed, wetting her lips to prepare for the rather long, incomprehensible ramble she was about to spit out.

“It’s about the size of a bear,” she began, tapping her finger against her thigh. “You can mistake it for one if you’re not careful. Its skin melts and regrows rapidly, and you can tell where it’s been because it leaves oozing clumps of skin and flesh behind everywhere it goes. It’s like…” Merrilyn swallowed. “It’s like it’s constantly falling apart and then putting itself back together. Its face—” Merrilyn wrung her hands and rubbed the side of her neck. “Its face is all wrong. I don’t know how to describe it. It’s almost...it’s almost human, but the rest of it isn’t human at all, not even when it stands up. It just looks vaguely…bear shaped? Not quite, though. it’s shaped like something and the something is a little bit bear-shaped. It doesn’t look silly, it’s not like—” Merrilyn laughed despite herself. “It’s not like a human head on a bear’s body. It’s an animal's head, but it’s like if somebody stretched a human skin mask over it. The proportions look human, but stretched and warped. It doesn’t really...look like a bear, not up close, anyway. It has hands, for one thing, but they’re all wrong.”

Merrilyn ran her trembling hands through her hair. “That’s as much as I can tell you about its appearance.”

Chelsea crossed her arms. “How do you know all this?”

Merrilyn huffed, her temper rising. “You said you would believe me—” “I do believe you,” Chelsea said, rolling her eyes and leaning forward to poke Merrilyn in the chest, punctuating each word that followed. “What I asked was how. Do. You. Know?”

“Because I saw it!” Merrilyn said, her usually flat, relaxed voice spiking into a shout. “I saw it, and I survived it, and it should not be a thing. It’s all wrong, Chelsea!” Merrilyn ran her hands through her dark hair. “It’s all wrong.”

Chelsea’s shoulders slumped. “You can call me Chel,” she said and shuffled around so that she was sitting beside Merrilyn. “Do you...do you want to talk about it?”

Merrilyn took a deep breath. “It was a couple years ago,” she said. “I was fourteen, fifteen, ish? Your age.”

Chel nodded. “Go on—I mean—if you want to, that is.”

“I do,” Merrilyn said, pulling in a deep breath and sitting up as straight as she could. “I don’t even remember why I was here—god—something stupid. It was one of those things where you only get sent to a place like this if you’re young. If you’re older, it’s just acting out. I think I stole a bunch of shit from a grocery store or something like that. Sweets? Might’ve been books. But—” Merrilyn waved her hand in the air. “That’s besides the point. I was going for a walk around the area, ‘cuz I was bored. I think I was just sort of...stewing, y’know? I heard some weird sounds, but—well—it’s the woods, in the middle of fucking nowhere. You’re gonna hear some weird noises, so I ignored it. And then,,,” Merrilyn went very quiet, only then noticing that she’d pulled up several fistfuls of grass, the vibrant green blades now laying in her lap.

“It’s okay,” Chel said, her voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t have to keep going.” “No—” Merrilyn said, rather abruptly, as she realised when Chel flinched. “No—I—I want to get this out there. I want to talk about it, tell somebody.”

She coughed. “Somebody who won’t think I’ve lost my mind.” “I believe you,” Chel said, looking directly at Merrilyn, eyes firmly set. “I believe you.”

Merrilyn hummed—a thank you, of sorts.

“I don’t think I need any more background. It came crashing out the woods, broad fucking daylight, mind, and slammed me up against a tree so hard my head spun. I saw stars and I bit my tongue and shouted real loud, kicked and screamed and clawed, but it did no good. That thing...it’s built like a wall, honest to god. It got real close to my face, and its breath was disgusting. Candy canes. A kind of artificial, overpowering, minty smell. Like cold. I don’t know how something can smell cold, but it smelled cold. And liquor, too. It was like mint crossed with liquor, that’s what it was, and its breath was so hot, even though it smelled so cold. There was drool spilling out of the corners of its mouth and landing on my shirt. Its eyes were a pale, pale blue, and there wasn’t anything animalistic or feral about them. Its eyes were its most human feature, and they were filled with intelligence, and clarity, and morality.”

Merrilyn swallowed. “So it was real close. Then...then it ducked its head so its mouth was right next to my ear and it—it told me that it was gonna—that it was going to tear my heart out, right out of my chest. It rested the almost-hand that wasn’t pinning me up against the tree on my ribs and I felt it puncture the skin like it was made of paper and it smiled.”

Merrilyn looked skywards, letting her mouth twitch into a satisfied smile, only dimly aware of Chel’s shallow, rapid breaths. “And its face was right next to mine and it was smiling and I was so angry, and my hands were free so I grabbed its face and I jammed my thumbs into its human eyes and it screamed and stopped its torturously slow process of tearing me open. And it dropped me, and I fell real hard, smacked my head again, scratched up everything that could get scratched up. I bit my lip real hard, and I’d already bit my tongue, so there was a fuckton of blood in my mouth, and the thing kept screaming, so you know what I did, Chel?”

Merrilyn ripped her gaze away from the sky and stared at Chel. “What did you do?”

“I laughed. I laughed and then I ran like hell. I was spitting blood as I went and I guess I’d knocked a tooth loose, either when I hit the tree or when I hit the ground because I spat my last baby tooth out that day in the woods. And I ran all the way back to camp and told everybody I’d taken a bad fall. Got stitches for the little slice on my torso. And that was that. That fucker never bothered me again.”

Chel sat back with a shaky breath. “I’m glad you’re okay,” she said, with that tone of voice that indicated there was more to the story than that. “But..”

Ah. There it was.

“So this thing snapped Katie in half, tried to rip your heart out, and crushed Zediah? What—” Chel wrung her hands. “Where’s the pattern?”

Merrilyn cringed. “I don’t think there is one. I think...I think it’s experimenting, trying to find out what it likes best. Or maybe it just wants to spice things up, I don’t know.”

Chel’s shoulders slumped. “Experimenting.”

“Or for fun,” Merrilyn added. Chel stood up and off the ground. “Who’s next?” “Hmm?” “Who’s it gonna kill next?”

Merrilyn stood up with a cackling laugh. “Stick with me,” she said, wrapping an arm around Chel. “And it ain’t gonna be you.”

Chel smiled something fierce. “It ain’t gonna be me,” she parroted.

“And that’s all you can hope for at Camp Goodwill,” Merrilyn said as the two of them walked back to camp. “That it won’t. Be. You.”

#horror #my writing #writers on tumblr #writers #short story #body horror #cw gore #tw gore #cw body horror #tw body horror #stuff in the woods #monsters #monster #original fiction #writeblr

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apsbicepstraining · 7 years

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Can You Lose 8 Pounds?

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Hello. If youre learn this right now, its because you want to make a change. Youre here because youve always been huge, but now your largeness has already become revolt. You are here because God has cursed you with a flabby paunch, and you dislike the style it rebounds and oozes.

You are here, candidly, because you have nowhere else to turn.

I want to take control of my life.

I want to die a lonely, ruined person who is full of bitternes because I never took community initiatives.

Yes! The first step to succumbing a lonely, broken person who is full of regret is admitting to yourself that you want to die a lonely, busted person who is full of bitternes. Today is the day you embark on that footpath. Disappear out in the world, get down this computer, and hug the darkness.

Start Over

Incredible. Its time to begin anew! Its duration for a brand-new, less fleshy assembly. To start, take a good, hard look at yourself. Thisthis is you now.

Okay.

And this was youthis was you 8 glorious pounds ago.

Oh, wow.

No, its not.

Look, denial is a sign of weakness. Seem into your own sees. If youre going to make a change, you must accept that this perfect, chiseled muscle domain used to be yours.

I countenanced myself.

Yes! The actuality is, “you think youre” 8 pounds away from true-life joy. Your brand-new, lip-smacking person is almost within reach, but only if you vow worked very hard to and systematically destroy every inch of your old-time soul. So, how would you like to lose 8 pounds?

Exercise and borrow a healthy diet.

Take a dietary supplement.

Hurt my figure with the influenza!

I do not want to lose 8 pounds, because I am an idiot.

-Aha! You seem to be a stupid person who does not want to lose 8 pounds. Well, beneath that additional load is a beautiful and muscular Adonis just waiting to kill the old-fashioned you.

So, how will you get gushed for your total 8-pound makeover?

Check out some weight-loss message boards.

Look at your fantastically scrawny girlfriend.

Remember the days when you werent 8 pounds heavier.

You decide to log onto lard.edu, your favorite bodybuilding health resource.

Log onto lard.com and speak some testimonials.

Log onto lad.com and look at porn.

Incredible. Lad.com is unfortunately best available website on the internet. While the actors svelte forms did in fact see you want to lose 8 pounds, you were so drawn to the red-hot, attractive copulation that you didnt leave your computer for hours. Instead, you gained 2 pounds from sitting and neglected! Whoops.

Log onto the computer again.

Try another weight-loss method.

Start Over

You go to the testimonials section. Yes, this is the stuff you need.

Comment I WANT TO CHANGE MY LIFE.

Exit the computer and start your journey.

You retain scrolling. Its incredible.

Comment THIS IS RELATABLE TO ME.

Exit the computer and start your journey.

Great, youre motivated! Now gives lose those pounds!

Comment PLEASE SEND DETAILS ABOUT HAVING SEX WITH YOUR BROTHER.

Exit the computer and start your journey.

Hi, lover, says your scrawny lover, ogling you up and down. I heard you are trying to lose 8 pounds. Hey, we should engage in the primal ordinance of sexits great for losing 8 pounds.

Yes, satisfy!

No thanks.

Actually, just kidding, she adds. Sex is for people who have lost 8 pounds. Well have sex when youve lost 8 pounds.

Okay.

Oh, okay, thats penalty, I understand, she supposes. I will break up with you then! Makes have sex when youve lost 8 pounds.

Okay.

Ah, the days when you were 8 pounds lighter and the world was brighter…the days when all your breathes were unfathomably loose….

Yes, I remember…

I do not remember that.

The dates when you deemed an apple in your hands at all times and smiled…when you wore a tape measure around your waist as jewelry….

Ah, yes…

Still I do not remember…

The dates when your family was still alive….

I remember…my God….

I am ready to lose 8 poundsI swear it.

Ah, the flu! An superb choice. The influenza is the worlds No. 1 sicknes for inducing pounds and pounds of liquid secretion. How would you like to get a slimming, fat-burning sprain of the flu today?

Lick the hands of this flu seasons patient zero.

Ask the hospital for their exploited needles and then jump in a accumulation of them.

Go to the doctor and implore for the most slimming flu he has.

Incredible! You got the flu. The good word is that youre now sicker than youve ever seen, and 3 pounds of liquids “ve already” secreted from your loopholes! The bad news is that your person stands swollen and unsightly. What do you do now?

Go to the doctor and implore for a worse disease.

Continue trying to lose weight with this potentially inept flu.

Great choice! You go to the doctor and entreat for the influenza, best available weight-loss program in the world.

Oh, God, only look at youyou urgently need to lose 8 pounds, does the doctor. I could give you the flu, or I could give you a more extreme weight-loss procedure Ive been working on.

Ask him for the flu.

Ask him for the revolutionary medical procedure.

Great choiceIve been meaning to commit a fun felony and finally play-act this weight-loss procedure on someone, he replies, laying you down. Im going to applied this monkey soul in you and just see what happens with your 8 pounds. How does that voice?

Yes, satisfy, I want to be slim! Make me that monkey heart.

No thanks, Ill take the skinny cancer instead!

While lying lifelessly next to the toilet, you try on your old breathes. Wow, they scarcely fit! Your lip may be parched and your eyes crusted closed, but if you took a shower, youd be 10 days hotter than you were before!

So, how will you lose those remaining 5 pounds?

Keep having the flujust 5 more pounds!

Get some broth to suck on and to continue efforts to dry yourself.

Oh , no! You lost 5 pounds, and then 4 more pounds! The flu was unfortunately more effective, and you discontinued up losing 12 pounds total. You appear scrawny and disgusting, a merely skeleton of the hunk you once were. Maybe try gaining heavines, because right now youre a fitness disaster.

Wait, its not over! Try to gain the load back.

Start Over

Well, you steamed some hot water over a moo-cow and made yourself some beef broth. But unfortunately, you got better, and you stopped losing load when you were only 2 pounds short of your goal! Sadly, it seems like youre still a blob-like fitness tragedy. Would you like to try another way?

Go back and try another way!

Great choice! You go to the doctor and sidestep for the most difficult, most infectious disease hes get. Perhaps malaria, if he has it.

Oh, Jesus, you urgently need to lose 8 pounds, reads the doctor. I could give you either a altogether untested infection I invented or a radical weight-loss procedure Ive been working on.

Ask him for the skinny disease.

Ask him for the revolutionary medical procedure.

This disease progressed from monkey DNA, but dont perturb, its not AIDS, says your doctor. Hopefully, itll get those 5 standing pounds off!

Sprout hair from every limb.

Pick up a lodge and begin trying to jab it into numerous punctures in the office to look for bugs.

The results are great at first! You eat a healthy, clean nutrition of maggots and vegetation, and almost instantly embarked wincing. Unfortunately, you became more being than monkey, and while your skeleton was contracting into the exact size of a primate, you lost 25 additional pounds. Looks like youll have to try again if you want to lose precisely 8.

Wait, its not over! Try to gain the load back.

Start Over

Congrats! You now have a monkey heart, which is already 2 pounds lighter than a human nerve. And holy moo-cow, you examine hotbut you feel even hotter. How will you lose those last-place 3 pounds?

By eating chows and vegetation.

By mistaking a squirrel for a potential teammate and trying to persuasion it.

Mmm, beautiful. Mating with a squirrel can burn up to 500 calories in an hour. How will you follow?

Seduce it.

Pass for now and chew some grubs.

You did it! You lost 8 pounds! Its uncertain whether you lost the weight from your brand-new relationship or due to the fact that monkey souls beat 10 meters faster than those of human rights, but no matter! Youre a perfect 8 pounds lighter now, healthy and hot as is also possible. Well done!

Start Over

Great! Seeming hungry, you leave the hospital and see this: a delicious chow! Mmm…what would you like to do?

Eat the grub.

Go for the squirrel instead.

Well, “youve lost” heavines, but you lost too much. This grub was high-flown in protein and low-grade in fat, but its high poison material likewise killed you, developing in too much weight loss( 15 pounds too many !). Next time, try losing less, because this ended up with you looking like a terrifying skeleton creature.

Wait, its not over! Try to gain the load back.

Start Over

Excellent! Youve chosen to try to lose weight through both rehearsal and a healthy nutrition! But makes be real, large-scale guyyou can probably simply manage doing one of those at a time. Which one would you preferably do?

Exercise.

Diet.

Great! Effort, the brutality we set our figures through in order to look sex. How would you like to start employing today?

Join a gym.

Get a personal trainer.

Try meditating, if that is technically exercise.

Perfect. This is Quinn, your personal trainer.

You will never lose 8 pounds, says your Quinn.

Yes, Quinn, I know.

Sure, youre quiet or some shit for 25 minutes. Fucking cool-ass theme to sit on the storey to employ. Your heavines remains exactly the same. Who attends?

Get up, loser.

Ah, the gym! Therefore welcomed 24 -Hour Muscle Hell, the gym in your metropolitan that you can render! Its adage is You Will Lose 8 Pound Here, so things are finally examining up. What part of the gym would you like to start in?

The weights section.

The cardio section.

The Zumba studio.

The locker room section!

Yes, the heaviness area. The area of the gym that makes your flesh sing in pain! Time to sculpt a brand-new, lighter self from your old, heavier soul!

You look at the coach, who sides you two large metal devices. How will you follow?

Ask for a spotter.

Try to find people form to lift.

We can recognize you, say the strongest people in the gym, grabbing each of your barbells. With our help, youll be able to raise without cracking your sticker in half, and youll lose those 8 poundsguaranteed.

Lift heaviness with them.

Go back to the gym and try something else.

Each of them grabs one of your weights and embarks lifting it on their own. You try to grab on, but they both remark, No, dont contact. Were spotting you , not the other way around.

You eventually give up, but as a result, lose no load. You still have 8 pounds to gowhat should you do?

Go try something else at the gym.

Try dieting instead.

Leave the gym and try to lose 8 pounds another way.

You can face-lift us up, say the strongest parties in the gym, ambling up to you with their taut forms on display. If you lift us up, youll lose 8 pounds in no timethats a guarantee.

Lift them up.

Go back to the gym and try something else.

You try and try to lift them up. Were heavy, merely swollen with strong muscle tissue, they bellow each time “youre just trying to” lift them up. Hoisting two heavy beings is just the first step to changing their own lives!

You eventually give up, but as a result, lose no load. You still have 8 pounds to gowhat should you do?

Go try something else at the gym.

Try dieting instead.

Leave the gym and try to lose 8 pounds another way.

Yes, the cardio slouse. The area of the gym that becomes your middle explode!

Help me, suggests the cardio trainer. The gym has been downloading my muscles through these cables for years.

How will you continue?

Find somebody to chase on the treadmill.

Find somebody to pursue you on the treadmill.

The cardio trainer tries to build opening on the treadmill in order to be allowed to chase him, but suddenly, the gyms general manager comes up and starts touching his electric nipples.

More downloadingweve nearly replenished the mainframe with muscle, she responds. This being can lose 8 pounds later.

You eventually give up, but as a result, lose no heavines. You still have 8 pounds to gowhat should you do?

Go try something else at the gym.

Try dieting instead.

Leave the gym and try to lose 8 pounds another way.

The cardio trainer tries to constitute cavity on the treadmill so he can chase you, but suddenly, the gyms general manager comes up and starts touching his electric nipples.

More downloadingweve virtually replenished the mainframe with muscle, she adds. This soldier can lose 8 pounds later.

You eventually give up, but as a result, lose no weight. You still have 8 pounds to gowhat should you do?

Go try something else at the gym.

Try dieting instead.

Leave the gym and try to lose 8 pounds another way.

Zumba it is! You walk into the studio, bloated with your 8 additional pounds still lodged deep under your skin.

Kill, your Zumba dojos yell in unison. Kill the man who is slightly heavier than he used to be.

How do you follow?

Fight your dojos.

Surrender to your dojos.

You have chosen to fight your Zumba dojos.

Zumba is a great way to shed additional weight, they wail one by one.

How would you like to fight your antagonists?

Sit on them one by one.

Break a brick in front of them.

Straight up roundhouse-kick them.

Your additional load throws off your aerodynamics a bit, and you end up piercing a pit through the wall.

Okay, sure, they say, bowing. You overcame us. Heres a Zumba belt for all your troubles.

Unfortunately, Zumba is a dance that is mostly self-defense, so it really doesnt concern too much push. As a upshot, you lost no load. You still have 8 pounds to gowhat should you do?

Go try something else at the gym.

Try dieting instead.

Leave the gym and try to lose 8 pounds another way.

You have chosen to surrender to your dojos. You are weak and will never lose 8 pounds, they yell one by one.

How would you like to surrender to your opponents?

Lie on the soil and shriek I continue heavy.

Hit your chief against the stack of ruin committees, but not so difficult that it does any damage.

Okay, sure, “theyre saying”, bowing. Youve emphatically have confirmed that you dont belong here. Heres a Zumba belt for all your troubles.

Unfortunately, Zumba is a dance that is mostly self-defense, it was therefore certainly doesnt involve too much gesture. As a result, “youve lost” no heavines. You still have 8 pounds to gowhat should you do?

Go try something else at the gym.

Try dieting instead.

Leave the gym and try to lose 8 pounds another way.

Welcome to the locker room, the premier plaza to lose 8 pounds, mentions this gentleman, the cupboard room manager. This is a 24 -hour gym, so Ill be here 24 hours today. Would you like to sign up for a two-hour session of sitting with me?

Do a two-hour session with this man.

Go back to the gym.

Leave the gym and try another weight-loss method.

Two hours pass. You sat well, but somehow you lost no weight.

Great job! he answers, patting you on the back. Would you like to stay for another two-hour session?

Do another two-hour session with this man.

Go back to the gym.

Leave the gym and try another weight-loss method.

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apsbicepstraining · 7 years

Text

Can You Lose 8 Pounds?

This peculiarity compels JavaScript to function.

You are here, candidly, because you have nowhere else to turn.

I want to take control of my life.

I want to die a lonely, ruined person who is full of bitternes because I never took community initiatives.

Start Over

Incredible. Its time to begin anew! Its duration for a brand-new, less fleshy assembly. To start, take a good, hard look at yourself. Thisthis is you now.

Okay.

And this was youthis was you 8 glorious pounds ago.

Oh, wow.

No, its not.

Look, denial is a sign of weakness. Seem into your own sees. If youre going to make a change, you must accept that this perfect, chiseled muscle domain used to be yours.

I countenanced myself.

Exercise and borrow a healthy diet.

Take a dietary supplement.

Hurt my figure with the influenza!

I do not want to lose 8 pounds, because I am an idiot.

-Aha! You seem to be a stupid person who does not want to lose 8 pounds. Well, beneath that additional load is a beautiful and muscular Adonis just waiting to kill the old-fashioned you.

So, how will you get gushed for your total 8-pound makeover?

Check out some weight-loss message boards.

Look at your fantastically scrawny girlfriend.

Remember the days when you werent 8 pounds heavier.

You decide to log onto lard.edu, your favorite bodybuilding health resource.

Log onto lard.com and speak some testimonials.

Log onto lad.com and look at porn.

Log onto the computer again.

Try another weight-loss method.

Start Over

You go to the testimonials section. Yes, this is the stuff you need.

Comment I WANT TO CHANGE MY LIFE.

Exit the computer and start your journey.

You retain scrolling. Its incredible.

Comment THIS IS RELATABLE TO ME.

Exit the computer and start your journey.

Great, youre motivated! Now gives lose those pounds!

Comment PLEASE SEND DETAILS ABOUT HAVING SEX WITH YOUR BROTHER.

Exit the computer and start your journey.

Hi, lover, says your scrawny lover, ogling you up and down. I heard you are trying to lose 8 pounds. Hey, we should engage in the primal ordinance of sexits great for losing 8 pounds.

Yes, satisfy!

No thanks.

Actually, just kidding, she adds. Sex is for people who have lost 8 pounds. Well have sex when youve lost 8 pounds.

Okay.

Oh, okay, thats penalty, I understand, she supposes. I will break up with you then! Makes have sex when youve lost 8 pounds.

Okay.

Ah, the days when you were 8 pounds lighter and the world was brighter…the days when all your breathes were unfathomably loose….

Yes, I remember…

I do not remember that.

The dates when you deemed an apple in your hands at all times and smiled…when you wore a tape measure around your waist as jewelry….

Ah, yes…

Still I do not remember…

The dates when your family was still alive….

I remember…my God….

I am ready to lose 8 poundsI swear it.

Ah, the flu! An superb choice. The influenza is the worlds No. 1 sicknes for inducing pounds and pounds of liquid secretion. How would you like to get a slimming, fat-burning sprain of the flu today?

Lick the hands of this flu seasons patient zero.

Ask the hospital for their exploited needles and then jump in a accumulation of them.

Go to the doctor and implore for the most slimming flu he has.

Go to the doctor and implore for a worse disease.

Continue trying to lose weight with this potentially inept flu.

Great choice! You go to the doctor and entreat for the influenza, best available weight-loss program in the world.

Oh, God, only look at youyou urgently need to lose 8 pounds, does the doctor. I could give you the flu, or I could give you a more extreme weight-loss procedure Ive been working on.

Ask him for the flu.

Ask him for the revolutionary medical procedure.

Yes, satisfy, I want to be slim! Make me that monkey heart.

No thanks, Ill take the skinny cancer instead!

So, how will you lose those remaining 5 pounds?

Keep having the flujust 5 more pounds!

Get some broth to suck on and to continue efforts to dry yourself.

Wait, its not over! Try to gain the load back.

Start Over

Go back and try another way!

Great choice! You go to the doctor and sidestep for the most difficult, most infectious disease hes get. Perhaps malaria, if he has it.

Oh, Jesus, you urgently need to lose 8 pounds, reads the doctor. I could give you either a altogether untested infection I invented or a radical weight-loss procedure Ive been working on.

Ask him for the skinny disease.

Ask him for the revolutionary medical procedure.

This disease progressed from monkey DNA, but dont perturb, its not AIDS, says your doctor. Hopefully, itll get those 5 standing pounds off!

Sprout hair from every limb.

Pick up a lodge and begin trying to jab it into numerous punctures in the office to look for bugs.

Wait, its not over! Try to gain the load back.

Start Over

Congrats! You now have a monkey heart, which is already 2 pounds lighter than a human nerve. And holy moo-cow, you examine hotbut you feel even hotter. How will you lose those last-place 3 pounds?

By eating chows and vegetation.

By mistaking a squirrel for a potential teammate and trying to persuasion it.

Mmm, beautiful. Mating with a squirrel can burn up to 500 calories in an hour. How will you follow?

Seduce it.

Pass for now and chew some grubs.

Start Over

Great! Seeming hungry, you leave the hospital and see this: a delicious chow! Mmm…what would you like to do?

Eat the grub.

Go for the squirrel instead.

Wait, its not over! Try to gain the load back.

Start Over

Exercise.

Diet.

Great! Effort, the brutality we set our figures through in order to look sex. How would you like to start employing today?

Join a gym.

Get a personal trainer.

Try meditating, if that is technically exercise.

Perfect. This is Quinn, your personal trainer.

You will never lose 8 pounds, says your Quinn.

Yes, Quinn, I know.

Sure, youre quiet or some shit for 25 minutes. Fucking cool-ass theme to sit on the storey to employ. Your heavines remains exactly the same. Who attends?

Get up, loser.

The weights section.

The cardio section.

The Zumba studio.

The locker room section!

Yes, the heaviness area. The area of the gym that makes your flesh sing in pain! Time to sculpt a brand-new, lighter self from your old, heavier soul!

You look at the coach, who sides you two large metal devices. How will you follow?

Ask for a spotter.

Try to find people form to lift.

Lift heaviness with them.

Go back to the gym and try something else.

Each of them grabs one of your weights and embarks lifting it on their own. You try to grab on, but they both remark, No, dont contact. Were spotting you , not the other way around.

You eventually give up, but as a result, lose no load. You still have 8 pounds to gowhat should you do?

Go try something else at the gym.

Try dieting instead.

Leave the gym and try to lose 8 pounds another way.

You can face-lift us up, say the strongest parties in the gym, ambling up to you with their taut forms on display. If you lift us up, youll lose 8 pounds in no timethats a guarantee.

Lift them up.

Go back to the gym and try something else.

You eventually give up, but as a result, lose no load. You still have 8 pounds to gowhat should you do?

Go try something else at the gym.

Try dieting instead.

Leave the gym and try to lose 8 pounds another way.

Yes, the cardio slouse. The area of the gym that becomes your middle explode!

Help me, suggests the cardio trainer. The gym has been downloading my muscles through these cables for years.

How will you continue?

Find somebody to chase on the treadmill.

Find somebody to pursue you on the treadmill.

The cardio trainer tries to build opening on the treadmill in order to be allowed to chase him, but suddenly, the gyms general manager comes up and starts touching his electric nipples.

More downloadingweve nearly replenished the mainframe with muscle, she responds. This being can lose 8 pounds later.

You eventually give up, but as a result, lose no heavines. You still have 8 pounds to gowhat should you do?

Go try something else at the gym.

Try dieting instead.

Leave the gym and try to lose 8 pounds another way.

The cardio trainer tries to constitute cavity on the treadmill so he can chase you, but suddenly, the gyms general manager comes up and starts touching his electric nipples.

More downloadingweve virtually replenished the mainframe with muscle, she adds. This soldier can lose 8 pounds later.

You eventually give up, but as a result, lose no weight. You still have 8 pounds to gowhat should you do?

Go try something else at the gym.

Try dieting instead.

Leave the gym and try to lose 8 pounds another way.

Zumba it is! You walk into the studio, bloated with your 8 additional pounds still lodged deep under your skin.

Kill, your Zumba dojos yell in unison. Kill the man who is slightly heavier than he used to be.

How do you follow?

Fight your dojos.

Surrender to your dojos.

You have chosen to fight your Zumba dojos.

Zumba is a great way to shed additional weight, they wail one by one.

How would you like to fight your antagonists?

Sit on them one by one.

Break a brick in front of them.

Straight up roundhouse-kick them.

Your additional load throws off your aerodynamics a bit, and you end up piercing a pit through the wall.

Okay, sure, they say, bowing. You overcame us. Heres a Zumba belt for all your troubles.

Unfortunately, Zumba is a dance that is mostly self-defense, so it really doesnt concern too much push. As a upshot, you lost no load. You still have 8 pounds to gowhat should you do?

Go try something else at the gym.

Try dieting instead.

Leave the gym and try to lose 8 pounds another way.

You have chosen to surrender to your dojos. You are weak and will never lose 8 pounds, they yell one by one.

How would you like to surrender to your opponents?

Lie on the soil and shriek I continue heavy.

Hit your chief against the stack of ruin committees, but not so difficult that it does any damage.

Okay, sure, “theyre saying”, bowing. Youve emphatically have confirmed that you dont belong here. Heres a Zumba belt for all your troubles.

Go try something else at the gym.

Try dieting instead.

Leave the gym and try to lose 8 pounds another way.

Do a two-hour session with this man.

Go back to the gym.

Leave the gym and try another weight-loss method.

Two hours pass. You sat well, but somehow you lost no weight.

Great job! he answers, patting you on the back. Would you like to stay for another two-hour session?

Do another two-hour session with this man.

Go back to the gym.

Leave the gym and try another weight-loss method.

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apsbicepstraining · 7 years

Text

Can You Lose 8 Pounds?

This peculiarity compels JavaScript to function.

You are here, candidly, because you have nowhere else to turn.

I want to take control of my life.

I want to die a lonely, ruined person who is full of bitternes because I never took community initiatives.

Start Over

Incredible. Its time to begin anew! Its duration for a brand-new, less fleshy assembly. To start, take a good, hard look at yourself. Thisthis is you now.

Okay.

And this was youthis was you 8 glorious pounds ago.

Oh, wow.

No, its not.

Look, denial is a sign of weakness. Seem into your own sees. If youre going to make a change, you must accept that this perfect, chiseled muscle domain used to be yours.

I countenanced myself.

Exercise and borrow a healthy diet.

Take a dietary supplement.

Hurt my figure with the influenza!

I do not want to lose 8 pounds, because I am an idiot.

-Aha! You seem to be a stupid person who does not want to lose 8 pounds. Well, beneath that additional load is a beautiful and muscular Adonis just waiting to kill the old-fashioned you.

So, how will you get gushed for your total 8-pound makeover?

Check out some weight-loss message boards.

Look at your fantastically scrawny girlfriend.

Remember the days when you werent 8 pounds heavier.

You decide to log onto lard.edu, your favorite bodybuilding health resource.

Log onto lard.com and speak some testimonials.

Log onto lad.com and look at porn.

Log onto the computer again.

Try another weight-loss method.

Start Over

You go to the testimonials section. Yes, this is the stuff you need.

Comment I WANT TO CHANGE MY LIFE.

Exit the computer and start your journey.

You retain scrolling. Its incredible.

Comment THIS IS RELATABLE TO ME.

Exit the computer and start your journey.

Great, youre motivated! Now gives lose those pounds!

Comment PLEASE SEND DETAILS ABOUT HAVING SEX WITH YOUR BROTHER.

Exit the computer and start your journey.

Hi, lover, says your scrawny lover, ogling you up and down. I heard you are trying to lose 8 pounds. Hey, we should engage in the primal ordinance of sexits great for losing 8 pounds.

Yes, satisfy!

No thanks.

Actually, just kidding, she adds. Sex is for people who have lost 8 pounds. Well have sex when youve lost 8 pounds.

Okay.

Oh, okay, thats penalty, I understand, she supposes. I will break up with you then! Makes have sex when youve lost 8 pounds.

Okay.

Ah, the days when you were 8 pounds lighter and the world was brighter…the days when all your breathes were unfathomably loose….

Yes, I remember…

I do not remember that.

The dates when you deemed an apple in your hands at all times and smiled…when you wore a tape measure around your waist as jewelry….

Ah, yes…

Still I do not remember…

The dates when your family was still alive….

I remember…my God….

I am ready to lose 8 poundsI swear it.

Ah, the flu! An superb choice. The influenza is the worlds No. 1 sicknes for inducing pounds and pounds of liquid secretion. How would you like to get a slimming, fat-burning sprain of the flu today?

Lick the hands of this flu seasons patient zero.

Ask the hospital for their exploited needles and then jump in a accumulation of them.

Go to the doctor and implore for the most slimming flu he has.

Go to the doctor and implore for a worse disease.

Continue trying to lose weight with this potentially inept flu.

Great choice! You go to the doctor and entreat for the influenza, best available weight-loss program in the world.

Oh, God, only look at youyou urgently need to lose 8 pounds, does the doctor. I could give you the flu, or I could give you a more extreme weight-loss procedure Ive been working on.

Ask him for the flu.

Ask him for the revolutionary medical procedure.

Yes, satisfy, I want to be slim! Make me that monkey heart.

No thanks, Ill take the skinny cancer instead!

So, how will you lose those remaining 5 pounds?

Keep having the flujust 5 more pounds!

Get some broth to suck on and to continue efforts to dry yourself.

Wait, its not over! Try to gain the load back.

Start Over

Go back and try another way!

Great choice! You go to the doctor and sidestep for the most difficult, most infectious disease hes get. Perhaps malaria, if he has it.

Oh, Jesus, you urgently need to lose 8 pounds, reads the doctor. I could give you either a altogether untested infection I invented or a radical weight-loss procedure Ive been working on.

Ask him for the skinny disease.

Ask him for the revolutionary medical procedure.

This disease progressed from monkey DNA, but dont perturb, its not AIDS, says your doctor. Hopefully, itll get those 5 standing pounds off!

Sprout hair from every limb.

Pick up a lodge and begin trying to jab it into numerous punctures in the office to look for bugs.

Wait, its not over! Try to gain the load back.

Start Over

Congrats! You now have a monkey heart, which is already 2 pounds lighter than a human nerve. And holy moo-cow, you examine hotbut you feel even hotter. How will you lose those last-place 3 pounds?

By eating chows and vegetation.

By mistaking a squirrel for a potential teammate and trying to persuasion it.

Mmm, beautiful. Mating with a squirrel can burn up to 500 calories in an hour. How will you follow?

Seduce it.

Pass for now and chew some grubs.

Start Over

Great! Seeming hungry, you leave the hospital and see this: a delicious chow! Mmm…what would you like to do?

Eat the grub.

Go for the squirrel instead.

Wait, its not over! Try to gain the load back.

Start Over

Exercise.

Diet.

Great! Effort, the brutality we set our figures through in order to look sex. How would you like to start employing today?

Join a gym.

Get a personal trainer.

Try meditating, if that is technically exercise.

Perfect. This is Quinn, your personal trainer.

You will never lose 8 pounds, says your Quinn.

Yes, Quinn, I know.

Sure, youre quiet or some shit for 25 minutes. Fucking cool-ass theme to sit on the storey to employ. Your heavines remains exactly the same. Who attends?

Get up, loser.

The weights section.

The cardio section.

The Zumba studio.

The locker room section!

Yes, the heaviness area. The area of the gym that makes your flesh sing in pain! Time to sculpt a brand-new, lighter self from your old, heavier soul!

You look at the coach, who sides you two large metal devices. How will you follow?

Ask for a spotter.

Try to find people form to lift.

Lift heaviness with them.

Go back to the gym and try something else.

Each of them grabs one of your weights and embarks lifting it on their own. You try to grab on, but they both remark, No, dont contact. Were spotting you , not the other way around.

You eventually give up, but as a result, lose no load. You still have 8 pounds to gowhat should you do?

Go try something else at the gym.

Try dieting instead.

Leave the gym and try to lose 8 pounds another way.

You can face-lift us up, say the strongest parties in the gym, ambling up to you with their taut forms on display. If you lift us up, youll lose 8 pounds in no timethats a guarantee.

Lift them up.

Go back to the gym and try something else.

You eventually give up, but as a result, lose no load. You still have 8 pounds to gowhat should you do?

Go try something else at the gym.

Try dieting instead.

Leave the gym and try to lose 8 pounds another way.

Yes, the cardio slouse. The area of the gym that becomes your middle explode!

Help me, suggests the cardio trainer. The gym has been downloading my muscles through these cables for years.

How will you continue?

Find somebody to chase on the treadmill.

Find somebody to pursue you on the treadmill.

The cardio trainer tries to build opening on the treadmill in order to be allowed to chase him, but suddenly, the gyms general manager comes up and starts touching his electric nipples.

More downloadingweve nearly replenished the mainframe with muscle, she responds. This being can lose 8 pounds later.

You eventually give up, but as a result, lose no heavines. You still have 8 pounds to gowhat should you do?

Go try something else at the gym.

Try dieting instead.

Leave the gym and try to lose 8 pounds another way.

The cardio trainer tries to constitute cavity on the treadmill so he can chase you, but suddenly, the gyms general manager comes up and starts touching his electric nipples.

More downloadingweve virtually replenished the mainframe with muscle, she adds. This soldier can lose 8 pounds later.

You eventually give up, but as a result, lose no weight. You still have 8 pounds to gowhat should you do?

Go try something else at the gym.

Try dieting instead.

Leave the gym and try to lose 8 pounds another way.

Zumba it is! You walk into the studio, bloated with your 8 additional pounds still lodged deep under your skin.

Kill, your Zumba dojos yell in unison. Kill the man who is slightly heavier than he used to be.

How do you follow?

Fight your dojos.

Surrender to your dojos.

You have chosen to fight your Zumba dojos.

Zumba is a great way to shed additional weight, they wail one by one.

How would you like to fight your antagonists?

Sit on them one by one.

Break a brick in front of them.

Straight up roundhouse-kick them.

Your additional load throws off your aerodynamics a bit, and you end up piercing a pit through the wall.

Okay, sure, they say, bowing. You overcame us. Heres a Zumba belt for all your troubles.

Unfortunately, Zumba is a dance that is mostly self-defense, so it really doesnt concern too much push. As a upshot, you lost no load. You still have 8 pounds to gowhat should you do?

Go try something else at the gym.

Try dieting instead.

Leave the gym and try to lose 8 pounds another way.

You have chosen to surrender to your dojos. You are weak and will never lose 8 pounds, they yell one by one.

How would you like to surrender to your opponents?

Lie on the soil and shriek I continue heavy.

Hit your chief against the stack of ruin committees, but not so difficult that it does any damage.

Okay, sure, “theyre saying”, bowing. Youve emphatically have confirmed that you dont belong here. Heres a Zumba belt for all your troubles.

Go try something else at the gym.

Try dieting instead.

Leave the gym and try to lose 8 pounds another way.

Do a two-hour session with this man.

Go back to the gym.

Leave the gym and try another weight-loss method.

Two hours pass. You sat well, but somehow you lost no weight.

Great job! he answers, patting you on the back. Would you like to stay for another two-hour session?

Do another two-hour session with this man.

Go back to the gym.

Leave the gym and try another weight-loss method.

<div class="clickventure-node

The post Can You Lose 8 Pounds? appeared first on apsbicepstraining.com.

from WordPress http://ift.tt/2qURYdV via IFTTT

#IFTTT #WordPress

0 notes