rolling mat

Here’s a hard truth: getting back into shape isn’t easy, or glamorous, or fun, or sexy. It isn’t quick, it isn’t painless, and it isn’t pretty.

This is what it is: it’s staying in on a Saturday night so you can hydrate and get enough sleep before a long run that is exactly a quarter of the distance you used to run on long run days. It’s convincing yourself that that run even matters, short as it is. It’s convincing yourself to take that run seriously, short as it is.

It’s wearing compression socks under your jeans to work, hoping your over-worked legs will miraculously feel better by the time your run rolls around. It’s using every mental trick you know - just get to that lamppost, just get to that fire hydrant, just get to your street - to keep yourself running when they don’t.

It’s rolling out a mat and doing core work at the foot of your bed after you run, even though you’d rather be in that bed, preferably watching Netflix with a glass of wine. It’s doing yoga videos alone in your basement. It’s bringing your foam roller with you wherever you go, and trying to laugh it off when your friends make fun of you, again, for taking it so seriously. 

It’s schlepping it to the gas station during a snowstorm so you can buy two bags of ice. It’s shivering while you carry them inside your house. It’s shivering even harder when you lower yourself into a homemade ice bath and force yourself to sit there for 20 minutes. It’s hoping that it works.

It’s two plates at dinner, trying to make sure you’re eating enough. It’s forcing yourself to drive to the store on a weeknight when you run out of frozen vegetables. It’s praying that that thing you heard about bananas speeding up recovery is true because everything hurts and you have a run on the schedule and you can’t skip a day because you’ll lose momentum.

It’s learning that momentum is a precious thing - the most precious thing. It’s realizing that it doesn’t matter how bright the fire burns, as long as it’s still alive. It’s dedicating your entire existence to stoking it, in the big ways and the small ways, doing whatever you can to make sure that when you wake up in the morning, you’ve still got a spark to work with.

It’s not easy. It’s not glamorous. It’s not fun, or sexy, or quick, or painless. It really, truly is not pretty. 

But I have to believe it will be worth it.

2

I’m a yoga girl – I’ve always got my yoga mat rolled up in my suitcase. When you’re doing long haul flights back and forth across the Atlantic, it’s good to stretch out. At drama school here, they get yoga in your routine very early because it helps with respiratory control. When you’re a stage actor your breathing, projection, and voice are a big concern. Yoga keeps my mind and body centered, limber, and flexible. Being an actor is more physical than people realize it is. When you go on stage eight times a week to do a show, that’s a real cardiovascular workout. You need to be fit. If you get up at 5 in the morning and go pretty much all day until 7, you need to fit otherwise you’re not going to survive very long.

Little Things

Summary: little things you do with your avenger boo, and little things they enjoy or maybe even a habit

pairing: Avengers x reader

Bucky: With each and every day being a struggle for Bucky, it was nice for him to have a steady part of the day to look forward to. Being able to hold you in his arms was enough love to make his heart burst, and your version of couples bonding was typically on the battlefield. So the two of you came up with a better method of bonding, and much calmer at that. Hand in hand, both of you walk into the training room almost two hours before anyone else on the team is even awake. (This is also why everyone makes fun of you and Bucky for going to bed at 8pm) After turning on the projector, the two of you roll out your yoga mats and go along with the instructions being played out on the tv screen. Bucky typically loves to chat with you, but he’s a man of few words while he and you are waking up your bodies and enjoying one another’s silent presence. That is, until he asks you to help him stretch his legs, considering he loves the feeling of your hands working out the knots in his muscles.

Steve: Despite everything else in his life being in tip-top shape in the cleanliness department, it seemed like his shield was neglected in it all. Even after just doing training, there was a layer of grime that rested on top of it. Maybe it was just from the age of the shield, but it held onto dirt like no other. One day at training, you had picked it up to hand to Steve, and it left a film of grime on your hand. So without even telling him, you cleaned it while he was in the shower, and he damn near cried because no one had ever done something that nice for him. It just so happened that you were developing a little crush on him, which gave you a reason to carry on with this little thing. Week after week, you found yourself in his room polishing away at the patriotic shield while Steve chatted away about whatever story from his childhood had come into his mind that day. Even after the two of you ended up getting married you still find yourself cleaning the shield nightly, just with a lot more cuddling.  

Natasha: It just so happened that one afternoon you had sent her a link to a video on youtube, which she had never even heard of. Because of her curiosity, she invited you to her room and the two of you spent an entire day in bed just watching anything that popped up into her recommended. Soon enough, the two of you found time each day to just lay in bed and laugh at the stupid stuff you found. Being that she’s a major key to holding the team together, she’s pretty high strung all day. By the time that training and mission meetings are over, Nat is face down on the bed groaning about not wanting to get up for the next several years. So, it worked out having a few hours of laughter and relaxation with the woman you loved most. Making a habit out of cuddling with her wasn’t so hard either.

Sam: One afternoon, he’d come home from a weeks long mission and simply wanted a dance. Even if that meant you were in your pajamas, with your hair in a lopsided bun; he still wanted his hands around your waist with music flowing into both of your ears. Considering the fact that he was always with Steve, he’d began to adopt some of the older music that spangly pants always listened to. With the slow Bing Crosby song playing, the two of you swayed in your small apartment’s kitchen. Soon you found yourself in the same kitchen, every morning, with hooded eyes, just loving on each other with music going and the sun shining. The only things that changed were the ring that came to stay on your finger, and the baby bump that temporarily prevented you from standing too close to your husband, but you still managed to get that dance in.

Peter: Being the fact that you both are broke college students, whenever Tony offers new and exciting things the two of you are at the compound within an hour. Most of the time when Tony calls it’s about missions and what not, but when Peter’s new video games come in, it’s a whole different conversation. You and Peter pack up, and head to the compound for a weekend vacation. Traditionally, you order 6 boxes of pizza and pick them up on the way, and stop to get some beer with whatever cash y’all have left. For the next three days the two of you cuddle, drink, and have a genuine time with one another. This little tradition even continued as far as your honeymoon when you both realized that instead of being on a beach, you just wanted to be in one another’s arms in front of the tv for a weekend.

Clint: The team seemed to have practice for what felt like 12 hours of the day, every day. By the time they were done, Clint’s arrows were all dull from sticking into the various rubber dummies that were in the training room. So you took it upon yourself to sharpen whatever arrows you could find while he was in a meeting, considering you knew he had a stash hidden somewhere. Just the thought of him sneaking around pulling arrows from random places made you giggle as you were sharpening the arrows. Clint was so smitten when he saw you sitting there in the living room, surrounded by his weapon of choice. Needless to say, it became a friday night routine for the two of you to watch movies and sharpen away at his arrows.

T’Challa: All things aside, running a country was the most over exerting task he’s ever had to do. It’s no surprise that he forgets to do something as simple as getting a good meal in the morning before running all over the place for council meetings and Avengers business. Despite trying to remind him every morning, T’Challa would claim he was running late and would run out before you could get another word in. Being the helpful wife you are, you began to pack little snacks for him in his briefcase that he was using for the day. Not only would you put small bags of goldfish, you’d write notes reminding him that he’s doing an amazing job at managing a country and still being a great husband. These little things only made him more excited to come home and love on you each and every day.

Bruce: Despite being a brilliant man with amazing abilities in the lab, his handwriting is horrific. When it came time to look at his lab notes for what he did that day, it was all in shambles with shitty little drawings next to it. You’d been extremely bored one day because of an injury that left you on the sidelines, until you realized a little thing that you could be doing. Bruce’s notebook was full of extra papers that needed to be scrapped, and once you got through them you found the detailed pages and notes of breakthrough technology that him and Stark had come up with. With a new notebook, you began to neatly re-write all of the directions and ideas that accumulated in Bruce’s mind over the past few months. Even when you were cleared to be back on the battlefield again, you still found yourself in the lab on late nights, sitting with Bruce and writing new notes.

I Want To Dream

“Persephone!” Hades screamed as the gate sealed behind her. The vines curled around each other, closing the opening of the underworld before his eyes once again. Hades pounded his fist on the gate willing it to open, willing it to give her back, to uncurl and let him out. For once. Just let him out, let him have one more minute with her. Just one. His knuckles split and he felt blood run down his fingers but he didn’t stop he just kept pounding at the vines. Hitting, and clawing and pushing every force of darkness in his magic at the wall. He gave everything he had, and was left with a sealed gate that laughed at him.

Knees giving out, Hades slid down the wall. Tears silently rolled down his cheeks, matting his dark curly hair to his face. His eyes stared at the vines as he curled up next to the gate, as close to her as he can get. He stayed like that for hours, days, weeks, he couldn’t tell anymore. All he could feel was how his heart was ripped open and the insides clawed out. They had taken her from him again and again and again and he couldn’t stop it, and every time his heart was ripped from his damned soul.

“I know I’m leaving tonight but can you at least smile for me.” Persephone asked. Hades gave her a faint smile. They ate their breakfast next to each other, one hand intertwined with the others under the table.  When they were finished, they walked around their underground palace for hours, just talking and laughing. The sword was always in the back of their minds, why they were differing from their usually routine, the months without the other about to occur. Their hands never untied, clutching each other every second as if they could fuse together. Never separated.

With only a few hours left they found themselves in the ballroom. Persephone looked at him and smiled, less bright than usual, but still stunning. She had flowers woven in her hair in the shape of a crown, her dark curly hair falling down her back. Black and gold thread wove across her satin dress in swirls and designs that twirled in an endless dance. Her dark skin contrasted perfectly with Hades’ pale porcelain, the result of years trapped in an underground world. His skin was leathery and tough unlike Persephone’s soft skin, like flower petals. Millennia walking through fires and dragging souls behind him had taken its toll.

“Will you dance with me?” Hades asked and held out his hand.

“Only if you give me that big genuine smile I know so well.” Persephone said. The corners of her mouth turned up when she saw Hades’ roll his eyes.

“You can’t force a smile like that.”

“Well give me a nice smile and I will see if I can make it bigger.” Hades raised an eyebrow and slowly pulled his mouth into a smile. She took his hand and he spun her into his arms. Her loud laugh caressed his ears and danced behind his eyes, making him smile so hard he felt his teeth would crack.

“There it is.” She said. She took a step back from him and twirled, her dress splaying out and gliding through the air with her, and they danced.

They danced until their lungs could no longer keep up and they kicked off their shoes to some unknown part of the room. Twirling and gliding and curling around one another. Breathing each other in like they would never see the other again. There wasn’t any music, only their breaths that echoed through the room. But the music in their minds was louder than their own heartbeats in their ears. Drowning out everything except each other. Laughing and smiling they danced and Hades gave his rare smile to her and she gave her light. Her beautiful glow that vibrated through anyone that laid their eyes upon her. For hours, they danced. Hours.

“Hades.” Persephone said and her face scrunched up in pain. “Hades, it’s time. They’re coming.” He gripped her harder, refusing to let go.

“No, they don’t get to take you again. Never again.” He hissed.

“Hades.” She smiled sadly. “I love you.” He shook his head and gripped her hand, dragging her behind him as he faced the door of the ballroom. Waiting.

They slithered through the doors, tendrils of transparent smoke hidden to the eyes.

“You aren’t taking her. Not this time. Not ever.” Hades spat at them. The smoke seemed to vibrate with laughter at his words. It slithered closer, slowly over one tile and then another across the ballroom floor and pounced. Slamming into the two lovers it ripped through their forged hands and broke their grip. Locking around Persephone’s waist it pulled her across the floor and through the halls. Hades scrambled after, barely out of reach. Always just barely out of reach. Always watching them drag her away.

“I love you!” He yelled. She mouthed the words back at him, her voice hidden by the smoke. The gate was opening in front of them. Vines unlocking from their grips, slivers of sunlight shining through the opened gate. It pulled her through.

 

The servants slowly trickled out from their hiding spots, knowing better than to be seen on calling day. They brought wet rags, blankets and slices of bread and meat from the kitchen. Hades was still bloody and curled in on himself against the sealed gate. One servant took his limp hand and wiped the dried blood from it. Another washed his face as he looked upon them with dead eyes. They covered him with blankets and left the food next to him, hoping he will eat in the days to come. Just like before, they trickled away, leaving their broken king to wait for his lover to come home.



I wrote this as a final for a class and thought I should post it and see if you like it.

I recommend listening to Dream by Imagine Dragons while or before you read it. (It’s the song I had on repeat while writing this.) 

If you have ever listened to the musical Hadestown I also recommend listening to Lover’s Desire.


Please don’t repost, don’t be an asshole.

Welcome to the Fold- Shed Your Skin Part 2

Originally posted by moondipity

Part 1 / Part 3 / Part 4

A/N: I split this in two because this part gets intense and I didn’t want anyone to have to read it who didn’t want to. I live for angst, clearly.

P. S. This isn’t a Bughead fic by any means so I didn’t tag it as such (I’m sorry, guys), but the pairing is included in part

Summary: Nothing is as it seems, but not everything can be so simple. Every family has it’s issues, The Serpents are no exception.

Word Count: 3,685

Warnings: Gang activity, drug/alcohol mentions, violence, swearing, blood/bleeding, cheating.

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Sports Bras and Trench Coats

Request: Could you do one where the reader is the Winchester’s little (half) sister and she stays behind on hunts to do research and what not. But she also does stuff like yoga while her brothers are gone and Cas comes to check on her and she’s still in her yoga clothes so it leads to smutty goodness and both them confessing their feelings or something like that

Pairing: Castiel x Reader

Warnings: Smut, lanugage, oral (female receiving), slight dom!cas, ehh and some orgasm denial, it’s just very smutty okay?

Word Count: 1.9k

Originally posted by castielthesoldierofgod

You were stretching, getting ready to do your morning yoga when your phone rang. Every time you were getting ready to do something for yourself your phone rang. Everytime.

“Hey Sammy.” You tried not to sound annoyed.

“Okay, so, this isn’t a werewolf.” he said right away.

“What? How do you know?”

“Hearts aren’t missing, they’re just…placed somewhere else.”

You sighed, knowing you were going to have to do the research for this one, not that you really minded, you just wish that your brothers didn’t need you at the exact moment you were getting ready to do something else.

“Okay, I’ll look it up.”

“Thanks, Y/N, you’re the best.” he told you.

“I know,” you said before hanging up.

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Motivational Kiss

Up. Down. Kiss.

Up. Down. Kiss.

I giggled as Dean went up one more time before going down and pressing his lips against mine. It was insane. Ridiculous, even. Never in a million years did I think I’d be doing this…and with Dean nonetheless.

I had fallen in love with the green eyed Winchester the moment we set eyes on each other. Yeah, I knew it was what every girl probably said but…I knew Dean.

I knew what made him tick. What made him happy. What made him sad. Knew what his favorite food was. Favorite band. Favorite time of day. Hell, I even knew what his favorite shampoo was. So my affection was way deeper than those girls he spotted in every other bar.

So what changed, you ask? Easy.

It all started after one of the most exhausting cases we’ve ever worked on. I’d tell you all about it but just the thought brings an awful taste in my mouth and I didn’t want to ruin this special moment between Dean and I.

He’s still doing push ups, by the way. And still pecking me one on the lips.

But it was during our fourth-or fifth- round of shots at the bar that Dean slightly staggered over to me, and with a huge exhale of breath, grabbed my face and gave me one of the most sloppy kisses I’ve ever had. It was so messy that his slobber went from my lips to my jaw because he “got dizzy”.

One would think things would get awkward the next day. Nope. Not in our case. Dean was holding hands with me with every chance he got. Played with my hair and fingers whenever we had chill time at the motels we stayed in while Sam went to check it some reports at the police station.

Things just fell naturally. That’s the way we worked. End of story.

So it was no surprise when Dean asked me to “spot” him while he worked out in the training room. He had me lay down on the mat, ignoring the confused look on my face, and when he positioned himself above me, I smiled in realization.

“Nice, Winchester,” I said. “So, I’m your cheerleader now?”

Dean smirked and went down for his first push up. “More like motivation.” Kiss. “Maybe I can convince you into a little match of wrestling…”

I giggled when he went up on his push up. “You’re insane,” I breathed.

Down. Kiss.

“It’s your fault,” he murmured. “Now start countin’. The quicker I do this, the sooner I’ll have you rolling around this mat.”

Oh god.

“You’re on, Dean Winchester.”

Up. Down. Kiss.


This is for my beautiful Karina @thing-you-do-with-that-thing I’m sorry it took a while for me to get this out, babe!! I love you!!!! *hides face* I hope you like it!!


“He’s real yummy, isn’t he?” Y/F/N let out a dreamy sigh, slumping against the counter as she stared at Harry. You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at how enchanted she was by him - But, you had to be honest: Harry Styles was certainly very easy on the eyes. 

“I’ve never heard someone being described as ‘yummy’.” You snorted, folding up a towel before placing it into a cubby hole. 

Working at the local gym had its perks - You got to make fruit smoothies for yourself (for free!), you got an employee discount on whatever products were on sale (that made Christmas shopping a whole lot easier), and, as much as you hated to admit it, being able to stare at a sweaty, shirtless Harry for two hours a day wasn’t that bad. 

The only thing that was worrying you was the fact that you might have had a teensy, tiny crush on Harry.. But so did everyone else. (Y/F/N was always offering him a towel every five minutes.. Even though he already had one.) You couldn’t tell Y/F/N that, though. If she had a crush on him, you had to back off. She had already made it very clear that she liked him - And you didn’t want to risk a strong friendship over some.. guy. But.. Harry wasn’t just any old guy. He was always so polite, sweet, charming, funny.. At one point you thought maybe he liked you back - But he was like that towards everyone! Harry was just a friendly person. You wouldn’t be surprised if you were already in the friendzone. 

“Ugh, I just remembered I had to roll up the yoga mats from this morning’s lesson. I’ll be right back!” 

“Mhm.” You hummed, focusing on folding up the towels before you were suddenly aware of the presence standing in front of the counter. 

“Hey, cutie.” 

You glanced up, your heart immediately racing at the sight of Harry. Your cheeks grew a dusty pink at the pet name, a small smile playing at your lips. 

“Harry.” Your voice cracked slightly as you spoke. Good god, you were nervous. Why were you nervous? “W-What can I help you with?” You cleared your throat, trying to play it off as if you were the most chill person in the entire world. 

“Came over t’ see my favourite towel girl, obviously.” He teased, reaching over and pinching the apple of your cheek playfully. See, this was what you meant when you said he was cheeky to everyone. You couldn’t tell if he was flirting or.. No, no. Someone like him would never in a million years go for someone like you! “Came over for a drink o’ water, too. Gotta stay hydrated.” Harry clicked his tongue, handing you his empty bottle of water. 

“Right, yes. Water. Good for the body. Hydration.” You stammered, your brain seeming to spit out whatever stupid phrases it could come up with. You let out a small breath as your cheeks heated up even more, turning towards the water dispenser. Good god, you were such an awkward person. It really was a curse. If you were as confident as Y/F/N, that would be great. 

“I think you have to push the nozzle down for water to come out, Button.” You hadn’t even noticed Harry standing behind you, placing his hand over yours before he gently pushed down on the dispenser. Was it getting hot in here or was it just you? 

“Well, here you go.” You twisted the lid back onto his bottle, turning to face Harry before you realized you were practically pressed up against him. “I-” 

“Y/N! I thought you were busy folding towels!” You and Harry immediately jumped apart when you heard Y/F/N’s voice, your eyes widening slightly. The sight of you and Harry pressed up against each other probably wasn’t doing it for Y/F/N. 

“I jus’ asked her to fill my bottle up for me. The nozzle got stuck so I helped.” Harry shrugged casually, taking a swig of water before making his way back to the weights. “Thanks again, lovely.” You shot Harry a nervous smile before returning your attention to the towels. That was until you noticed Y/F/N glaring at you. 

“What?” You asked, glancing towards her. 

“Y/N, you know the girl code. I don’t want to be that person, but.. Well, in the nicest way possible, please back off. You know I’ve had my eye on him for the longest time, you can’t just go around pushing yourself on him.” She scoffed, rolling her eyes. 

“I wasn’t-” 

“It doesn’t matter. Harry’s off limits.” Y/F/N muttered. She was quiet for a second before speaking up again. “Still love you, though!” She blew you an air kiss before going off to deal with another task. As you watched her walk away, you locked gazes with Harry, your heart fluttering as his left eye dropped in a wink. 

Hm. 

+

gif isn’t mine!

We climb down the stairs to your gym, a basement of grey gun-metal machines lined up in rows, each array of equipment designed to augment a specific segment of the body, the deltoids, the pectorals. It looks like the inside of a factory, a body factory. You say you work out early in the morning because then you can take your time. No men waiting in line for their turn while you wrestle with yourself to sweat on the weights as long as you need to. The bulletin board has a magazine picture up, a row of women with defined and staring muscles. You point to the woman who is most sculpted, whose muscles are most precise, and say she lost the body-building competition because she had gone too far toward masculinity. The judges preferred more blur in a woman’s body. You say you want me to come with you one day as you work out, to spot you, my hand out to break and balance a slip as you lift. I say that I’ll murmur, “You can do one more, baby, one more for me,” while I kiss the back of your sweaty neck. But you demur: No kissing here.


It’s a gay gym, but a few heterosexual couples insist they can do it anywhere they please, the man and woman who rolled writhing on the mats, while the infrequent men caught at it with each other in the bathroom are always kicked out. Though we are two women, here we’d be seen as heterosexual, and resented. No, no kissing here.


In the Tastee Diner we’ve had our french fries and cole slaw and a shared chocolate milkshake. Full of comfort, I put down the tip, you go pay the check. When you come back to the red plastic booth, some old 60s song is playing. You take me in your arms and begin to dance with me in the aisle between the booths and the coat racks. At the next table two women are scandalized, their eyebrows in O’s of astonishment. Later you joke that they wanted to hold you responsible, to say, “Young man, this is not a dance hall.” But I was moving with you far beyond boyfriend and girlfriend, beyond a lingering kiss taken over lunch. I was giving myself to you in the way I have perfected over the years since the summer night I stood by another butch lover, drinking beer outside the hidden back door of a small town gay bar. Since the moment a drunk white man staggered out past us, and began to taunt me with his invitation, “What are you doing with her? Come with me. I can give it to you.” Bewildered, I turned my back on him, moved closer to her, put my hand on her bare muscled forearm. Whoever she was, she was not a man, and I was not the woman he thought I was. But in daylight, in public, in a parked car near her job, she wouldn’t let me kiss her.


I have waited years for you who wants to flaunt me on her arm, my face radiant with desire, as if I’d put my face deep into a lily, heavy with pollen, and raised it to you, smeared and smelly with butter yellow, sated but not yet satisfied, our meal not yet finished as I cling to you in the aisle of the dilapidated diner.

—  Minne Bruce Pratt, “Kisses.” For Leslie from S/HE.

)-[===> : Enter Name

Your name is JEFF the KILLER. Of course that’s not your actual name, that would be JEFFERY WOODS.

You are a WORLD RENOWNED MURDER, most famous for your catch phrase GO TO SLEEP. You live in an ABANDONED WAREHOUSE, where you MURDER THE INNOCENT. As advised by STRANGELY LOUD VOICES IN YOUR HEAD.

Your favorite hobbies include, KIDNAPPING PEOPLE, and TORTURING THEM UNTIL THEIR DEMISE.

You may or may not work for a tall well dressed fellow who lives in the woods close by, but it’s in your contract not to say. So shush.

You have quite the large collection of KNIVES and like to keep them tidy in a pile elsewhere, not near your sleeping mat. Rolling over onto a pile of sharp objects in the middle of the night does not sound pleasing to you. 

Though you keep your collection elsewhere, you like to keep your favorite close bye, for it has been your partner in crime the longest.

But that’s a story for another day.

You do not own a computer for computers are completely TRACEABLE BY POLICE, but you do have a PHONE possessing DARK MAGIC that allows only the supernatural (and you) to view its contents.

You use this phone to contact your BEST GHOST FRIEND via an app ironically named BLOOD BUDDIES.

Your BB handle was originally bloodyBadass

But your BEST GHOST FRIEND is a REALLY GREAT HACKER and also a really huge ASSHOLE. Which is never a good combination.

So now your BB handle is paleAnus

And honestly, you don’t have the motivation or know how to change it back.

paleAnus: you talk with very little enthusiasm unless iTS ABOUT!!! THE!!! THRILL!!! OF!!! THE!!! HUNT!!! 

paleAnus: you also like to laugh at things that arnt funny 

paleAnus: hahAHA :]

All in all your a pretty terrifying guy.

So JEFF the KILLER

What are you going to do?

)-[===> : ????

Continuation of this and this

Dex kneels and rolls the yoga mat.

“You hurt yourself?” Nursey asks. “I mean, uh, I should have noticed if you’re inured.”

Dex puts the yoga mat in the closet. “I’m not,” he says. “Or I’m not yet. I’m trying to be good this year.”

“You got injured last year?”

“No, I was fine. In high school, though, I did some really dumb shit.” Dex slides his phone into his back pocket. “How are you not massively hung over now?”

Nursey shrugs. “Luck? Alcohol dehydrogenase?”

“Breakfast,” Dex says. He goes out of the room to bang on Chowder’s door.

“Dude, he left already,” Nursey says. “Wanted to get breakfast with Farms before she left for her game.”

Dex shakes his head. “Let’s go, then.”

Nursey bangs on Bitty’s door, and then howls something up the stairs to Ollie and Wicks. He texts Tango and Whiskey too. Just because they don’t live in the Haus doesn’t mean they can avoid team breakfast.

As soon as they get to the dining hall, Nursey drinks an entire glass of water. He feels strained, spread thin, a combination of alcohol and exhaustion.

Dex stacks his plate with banana pancakes, eggs, and bacon. Nursey assembles a bacon egg and cheese bagel. They sit next to one another. Nursey accidentally kicks Dex’s ankle. Dex kicks him back.

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So, @carolyn-lives & I ACTUALLY WON AN INSTAGRAM CONTEST! We got this Roll Recovery stretch mat andddd a water bottle, trucker hat, & electrolyte packets from SOS Rehydrate!!!! Perf after my first 10 miler at 8000ft. AHHH. Also my tatt is almost 3 years old and it matches those pretty mountains in the background 🏃🏼‍♀️💫✨⚡️🏔

Fun and Games

A night that starts off as just fun and games gets a little more heated than anyone expected when feelings get involved. An old OTP prompt of a game of Twister that gets a little touchy-feely combined with the classic spin-the-bottle  that I never had the motivation to write by itself. Rowaelin romance/fluff (high school AU). One shot.


“Right hand, yellow.”

Lysandra grunted as she tried to shove her arm underneath Aedion, who was already hopelessly tangled on his own. Lysandra managed to slide her fingers over the yellow circle for about three seconds before she collapsed, knocking Aedion down with her.

The laughter that Aelin and Rowan had barely been containing finally sprung free. Aelin leaned back against Rowan’s arm as she tipped her head back, howling. The contact let her feel the low rumble of Rowan’s laugh on her back. When she tipped her head up to look at him, with his eyes crinkled and dimples showing, it was an effort not to lean further into him and rest her head on his shoulder.

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Drove All Night

So I was inspired to write this after watching the Voice in which Celine Dion was coaching some singers to perform her version of Drove All Night that’s been redone like a thousand times.

Waverly and Nicole are in a long distance relationship, but Nicole feels like surprising Waverly. If the title didn’t tell you exactly what happened… the below gif has nothing to do with the fic, I just think I’ll use it as often as possible

Originally posted by mzhyde48


“Wynonna….” Waverly whined in frustration. “I have to go.” Looking at her wristwatch, she could feel each second that bled away with her sister’s asinine…

“But… you’re the only one that pours my shots the way I like them.” Wynonna gave her a pleading look until she received the snap of a towel to the back of her head. “Hey!”

“Leave your sister alone, Wynonna.” Gus slipped behind the bar, grabbing a few empty pint glasses. “She’s got a date.”

“It’s not a date.” Waverly protested, unable to hide her smile as she untied her apron. “It’s just a call.”

“A pre-scheduled call that happens every Friday.” Gus pointed out as she filled a glass with beer.

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