beyond the bench

A bit late but heres my submission for @hxhbb17

I had the pleasure of being paired with @bluphacelia with their fic Cracked Lens. It was a real feel good ride, so much so that I had a difficult time choosing which scene to go with ehehe.

Thanks to everyone who was involved, theres been so much good work out it’s amazing nwn~!

anonymous asked:

I know this is a stupid question, but I was looking at your analysis of how big the wings (Maximum Ride) would actually be, and I don't see how that could work with a chair? The tips when folded nearly scrape the ground and the top part reaches basically head level.

OK. Patterson describes Max’s wingspan as being thirteen to fourteen feet. That’s pretty big. I assume you’re referring to the image from Uzlo’s “Thoughts on Wings,” which is an excellent source of inspiration for winged characters. (It is not affiliated with Maximum Ride.) I used it in an attempt to give a rough idea of what those 13-14-foot wingspans would look like on a human body.

Throughout the series, the Flock sits at dining room tables, at school desks, and in cars, and in many other random sitty-type places. In many of these cases, they are in disguise and have their wings sucked up into their cavernous torso pockets. So, presumably no problems sitting there.

But there is one line that springs to mind from MAX, where they visit a school and are directed to “chairs that were designed to accommodate the wingless.” This is one of the few times they acknowledge the way the birdkids’ bodies don’t fit into the human-designed world around them. It’s left up to the readers’ imagination how they actually sit down, though Max is clearly uncomfortable. This is one of the series’ failings in my opinion because it’s a great opportunity for worldbuilding and character building.

HOWEVER. I did find this thing on Pinterest from an artist called squidlifecrisis. This is an amazing example of some creative furniture design for characters with huge wings. Beyond benches and stools, which are the simplest solutions, this has some clever ideas for backrests and wingrests.

(Edited to add the picture. Tumblr was being weird the other day and the picture kept coming out really blurry.)

© squidlifecrisis

anonymous asked:

for that post you reblogged a while back about dan and arin being workout buddies - can you do a little drabble about that one? bfs or just friends in love, either ones fine :3ccc

This is about @grumpyhanson‘s text post I reblogged one week ago: “arin and dan are workout bfs pass it on”!

Arin sits up on the padded seat of the weight bench he’s stationed at with a huff, feeling the long ache of exhaustion swell and burn in his biceps as he flexes them outward once the barbell above his head has been replaced with a heavy clang.

The gym is empty of anyone save himself and his workout partner, whose labored breaths fill the room as he jogs to a decent speed on one of the treadmills lined up against the far wall.

“Dan,” Arin laughs, throwing one leg over the bench and pulling himself to his feet, “You need to work on muscle mass, dude, not cardio. You’re a twig as it is. You need to pump some iron!”

Dan laughs breathlessly from across the room, reaching up to press a few buttons on the treadmill, shoulders sagging as it slows and finally comes to a stop beneath his feet. Grabbing for the towel he’s slung over one of the handles on the machine, Dan wipes the sweat from his face and neck, laying it over his shoulder as he turns to face Arin with a red-faced grin.

“I gotta keep these string beans long and lean, Ar,” he says, gesturing to his legs mostly hidden by the baggy basketball shorts he has chosen to wear to the gym. “They’re my best feature, y’know.”

“Sure,” Arin snorts, but he knows Dan is right. His legs are slender and gorgeous; one of many traits that garner Arin’s attention — and the teasing of the others at the office when they take notice of Arin’s conspicuous admiration.

Crossing the floor of the quaint little gym he and Dan have been frequenting since the previous August, Arin turns himself side to side, looking over his body in the wall-length mirror just beyond the weight benches and rows of polished weights in all sizes. He’s lost some weight, he decides, mostly in his stomach, but he hasn’t been so big on cardio. His main focus since joining the gym has been to build up muscle mass in both his arms and his legs, and he smiles to himself at the obvious bulge of both in the mirror’s dirty reflection.

“Lookin’ good, Big Cat,” Dan says as he comes up behind Arin, the younger so focused on himself that he doesn’t notice Dan’s quiet approach until lanky arms have slipped around his waist to pull him close. “Your arms are fuckin’ beautiful, man.”

“My thighs are getting there too,” Arin grins, placing his feet apart to flex toned legs in the mirror, watching Dan’s expression shift from gentle amusement to one of pointed desire.

“Did you really have to wear spandex shorts to the gym?” he laughs into Arin’s ear.

“Well, yeah. How else am I gonna tell if my glutes are getting the proper workout?”

“Oh, they’re getting the proper workout, alright.”

“Dan!” Arin laughs, pushing his hips back when Dan thrusts playfully against his ass, and they both dissolve into giggles as Dan finally releases his hold on Arin’s waist to step back a bit.

“Alright, alright. I’m just admiring you, that’s all!”

“You can admire all you want when we get back to my place,” Arin chuckles, turning away from the mirror to grab his sweatpants and step into them, snapping the band loosely over his spandex shorts. “Suzy said she’s coming over to cook us dinner tonight.”

“So much for this workout being worth anything, then.”

“At least you got to stare at my ass the whole time.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

afrocentricintrovert  asked:

Could you do an Olitz fanfic of them in Vermont when they decided to stop lying to eachother?Like an afterglow or something. Please & thank you!

afrocentrichippie requested a little Vermont. So here is what came to me…

A Promise in Vermont

                The morning sun rose orange over the mountains. She hadn’t noticed how gorgeous the property was when Marine One landed the night before, but in the light of day it was nothing short of breathtaking.  Olivia stood wrapped in a blanket looking out the floor to ceiling windows of the house Fitz had built. The house he had built for her, built for them, for the day when they could walk away from the hustle and bustle of Washington life and be together, to start a family, to start a life.

                She thought back to the conversation they had the night before, about lying and half-truths and honesty. He claimed not to know her, told her she was a ball of dirty little secrets, yet he had built her this gorgeous house with orchards full of fruit and lush gardens brimming with the most magnificent flowers. She told him she resented him not telling her the entire truth about his past, yet she ran to him, kissed him, and spent hours entwined in him.

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The Wedding pt. 2

read pt. 1 here

And he left. He hung his head and without another word he exited the apartment. Nobody moved after the door clicked shut and the silence in the room was almost unbearable.
“You wanna go after him, don’t you?” Calum asked finally
“I’ve never wanted to do anything more in my entire life.”
“You’re too good of a person, Y/N” he plopped down on the couch and rested his head in his hands, you hated being the reason him and his best friend were fighting
“But I’m not going after him.” You sighed sitting down next to him
“Huh? Why not?”
“He didn’t run after me when I left, and I’m not the one who fucked up, why am I always obligated to fix things?”
“To be fair, he did come here looking for you.”
“It only took him how long?” You searched for a clock, trying to figure out how long you had slept for
“At least he tried, but clearly not hard enough. What are you gonna do now?”
You sighed placing your head on the back of the couch “I don’t even know anymore.”
“Well,” Calum said as he used his hands to push himself off the couch “How about we start with breakfast?”

It had been two weeks since the fight and you had yet to tell anyone - aside from Calum - that the wedding was off. Maybe it was because you didn’t want it to be true, you wanted to be pretend you were still getting your picture perfect wedding. Or maybe it was because you were still too heartbroken and just couldn’t deal with the hoards of people bombarding you with questions as to what happened. Whatever it was, you couldn’t hide it any longer, considering the longer you waited, the closer it got to the wedding date.
You decided to send the announcement to everyone in the mail, since it’d be a hell of a lot easier than calling every individual person, and it spared you having to explain to Michael’s side of the family about what happened. As much as you hated him for breaking your heart, you couldn’t paint him as the bad guy, part you still loved him.
He hadn’t tried to contact you since the time he left Calum’s apartment, and for that you were really grateful, but at the same time conflicted. If he was really sorry, he would’ve have fought. If he really loved you, he’d still be trying. He knew you needed space, but how much space was he supposed to give you until he tried to get you back again, if he was going to even try.
You had moved some of your things out of the apartment, with the help of Luke and Ashton getting him out for awhile so you could go in without contact. And part of you had always wanted them to tell you how he’d been holding up, what he’d been up to, if it was anything at all. Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to ask them.
Calum hadn’t talked to him since the fight, and you couldn’t tell if it was for the sake of you or because he really was mad at him. Either way you felt terrible for bringing him into all of this. You’d always worried about something like this happening at the beginning of yours and Michael’s relationship. Of course not this scenario exactly, but you were so nervous about being Calum’s best friend and dating his other best friend. No matter how supportive Cal had been about it, you were always a little nervous of coming between the two, and now it happened, and you hated that Calum felt obligated to choose between the two of you.
“You can talk to him if you want.” You told him
“Huh?” He glanced up from the wedding cancelation note he was writing and furrowed his eyebrows at you “Who?”
“Don’t play dumb, Cal. Michael was your best friend too, if you wanna talk to him I won’t be mad.”
“I don’t want to talk to him, I’m pissed at him for treating you the way he did.”
“Cal-” You whined
“Don’t Y/N,” He cut you off “I’m not ignoring him for the sake of you, well sort of at least, but I’m choosing to ignore him until he smartens the fuck up.”
You decided to drop it at that, not needing to get into another discussion about your ex-fiancé. It wasn’t until hours later, Calum retreating to his room after a long day, that you allowed yourself to really think about what you were going through. The last two weeks you’d been putting off thinking about it. You didn’t think about the fight, the wedding, the proposal, or any memories you had with Michael. You kept pushing forward just wanting to make it through the day, but you figured now was a better time than any. When all your guests got their envelopes in the mail, the wedding would be officially off. The day that was supposed to be the happiest of your life wasn’t going to happen. You’d never spend the rest of your life with the only man that you ever loved, that you felt you could ever love.
You found yourself scrolling through a folder in your phone filled with pictures of Michael and you, looking at the pictures but not really seeing them, just mindlessly flicking through the good times. So when your phone screen flickered for a second and the caller ID screen flashed with Michael’s contact name and a small picture of him, you hit the answer button unintentionally and now you had the choice to be a coward and hangup immediately or talk to him.
You held your breath as you lifted the phone to your ear “Hello?” your voice was hardly louder than a whisper
“Y/N? Where are you!” You heard Michael fumble over the line
“Where am I? You know where I’m at.” You furrowed your brows even though he couldn’t see your face
“Well you’re not at the flat, so I don’t really know.”
It was then you realized that he was drunk. You blew out the breath you’d been holding and tried to push down the anger bubbling in your stomach.
“Michael,” You began and paused when you heard a car honking in the background “Where are you?”
“I left the flat. It’s so empty without you, when’d you get all your things?” He slurred
“Michael! Where are you!” You put emphasis in all your words, scolding him
“I’m walking around trying to get to Cal’s apartment, I gotta tell him something.”
You bit your lip, Calum’s apartment was halfway across town from the flat you use to share with Michael “What do you have to tell him?” You were already putting on shoes and heading out the door, you just had to keep him talking long enough to find him.
He hiccuped but didn’t answer, you could heard scuffling around in the background of the call.
“Michael, what do you have to tell him?”
“I gotta tell him I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“I just gotta tell him, y'know.”
“What are you sorry for?” Now you were in the car and heading in the direction of his place
“I fucked up. I fucked up everything, and I don’t know how to fix it. But I gotta, I gotta fix it. And I gotta start somewhere, so I’ll start with him. I gotta tell him I’m sorry.”
“I’ll help you tell him, okay?” You offered
“No! Don’t tell him! I gotta do it! You can’t tell him, Y/N!” His voice raised over the line
“Okay, alright. I won’t tell him. But I’ll help you tell him yourself. You have to tell me where you are first.”
“Why? Why do you wanna know where I am?”
“I’m trying to help you, that’s why.”
“I don’t need help, I just gotta make it to Cal’s.”
“I can get you to Calum’s.”
“No! I don’t want help!” He started to raise his voice again, and afraid he might disturb others, you had to think on your feet
“Then I won’t help you, I’ll just be with you when you apologize.” Sometimes you hated how stubborn he could be, especially when he was drunk
“Oh.. Ok, ya you can do that then.”
“But you have to tell me where you are first.”
“I don’t know where I am.”
“Are you close to the flat?”
“Describe it for me.”
“I’m on a street beside a red car, its fucking ugly, and old as shit. And there’s some houses, like the townhouses. And at the end of the street its the park, ‘member that park we went to when I proposed?” You held back tears in your eyes trying not to think about the night he proposed or any of that right now
“Can you stay there, please? Until I get there.” you pleaded
“I don’t wanna stay by the park. It hurts to think of how I fucked up.”
“Then stay by the car.”
“What car? Your car?”
“No! Stay by the red car, the old red car!”
“I’ll be there soon.”
“Hey, Y/N?”
“Yeah?” Your heart fluttered thinking he might say more about the park
“This car is so fucking ugly.”
And then he hung up the phone. You mentally starting cursing at yourself, not being able to keep him talking longer, and you sped up. He promised you he’d stay by the car but who knew what’d he could do right now. For all you knew, he could’ve forgot his promise the second he hung up the phone
When you got to the street you couldn’t see him standing anywhere, but you saw the car. He was right, it was really ugly. Rusted and old, you pulled up beside and got out.
“Michael?” You asked quietly, you expected around the car just to make sure he wasn’t hiding on the other side
“Fuck!” You whispered
You looked down the street and the only place he really could’ve gotten in the time you made it there was the park. You would’ve saw him if he went any other way. You headed towards the end of the street, a sinking feeling in every step you took. You hadn’t been there since the night he proposed and you didn’t want tonight to be the night you stepped foot in it again. You didn’t need to open up anymore more wounds.
You stood on the sidewalk facing the grassy fields covering the park. In the shadows you could make out the small jungle gym with the swings the two of you had sat on that night. Just a little bit beyond it was the bench that he has popped the question by.
“Michael?” You said, not that loud and if he was close by he probably wouldn’t have heard you
“Michael!” You called a little louder
You didn’t hear a spoken response but you could hear someone - hopefully him - scuffling around
“Jesus, why am I doing this?”
You took a deep breath and marched towards the jungle gym. You used your phone as a flashlight as you called his name again
“Y/N, you came!” You heard him cheer
You found him sitting on the swings, awkwardly slumped against one of the chain ropes, holding him up.
“I said I was coming, didn’t I?” You asked
“I didn’t believe you.”
“Because I don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve you coming to find me.”
You bit your lip, trying to hold back tears and not doing a very good job at it
“And now you’re crying. I made you cry. You don’t deserve that. You’re too good. You should be happy.”
You sat down on the swing next to him, not knowing what to say. You heard him shift and when you turned to see what he was doing, he was looking right at you.
“I know… that I fucked up… I always do. And I want you back. And I was gonna fight for you. But you deserve someone who can make you happy.”
“You used to make me happy.”
“And now I’m making you sad. All I ever do is make you sad now.”
You looked away, staring at the ground and focusing on your breathing.
“Y/N…” He mumbled, he reached his hand out for you before pulling it backwards again
“I’m sorry.”
“I know you are.”

This is a prompt fill for the lovely SammyKatz on I really, really enjoyed writing this one, even if it is a little different from my normal ficlets. Enjoy!

The first thing Sherlock noticed as he rushed into Molly’s lab at Bart’s, Mycroft following swiftly behind, was that the pathologist was nowhere to be found. The second was that something was very, very wrong.

An eerie silence saturated the room, the only sounds the heavy breathing of the Holmes brothers and the swish of the door as it shut behind them.

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I spent some quality time behind Hope’s goal last night at the WNY Flash and Seattle Reign game. It was awesome. Check out my new Beyond the Bench!


I got some KILLER video from behind the net on Friday at the WNY Flash vs. Boston Breakers game, especially for Carli Lloyd’s first goal. This is one of my favorite Beyond the Bench videos that I have put together!!