#while i’m on a treadmill be so fr

[abbyshands]

okay i’m at the gym rn and??? the cam girl abby ideas are BREWINGGG

#i need to be held down #just imagine her whimpering while she’s doing pull ups #or you spotting her while she’s doing back squats #going feral #while i’m on a treadmill be so fr #writing as soon as my ass gets home #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x reader smut #abby tlou #tlou abby

[selfishdoll]

NOW PLAYING…. SUPERMASSIVE BLACK HOLE

You're the queen of the superficial, And how long before you tell the truth?

sum: being a physical therapist assistant wasn’t easy work at all, and it didn’t help that one of your patients was beginning to plague your thoughts, in more ways than one.

PURE COINCIDENCE . camboy & martial artist! kashimo hajime x physical therapist assistant! reader

cw: strangers to lovers (lowkey), kashimo & reader are 19-21, kashimo is ooc of course, modern au (no cursed techniques but he’s still strong asf), sex work, pet names, teasing, degradation & praise, shy!reader, curvy reader, kashimo is an ass man, lowkey corruption kink, slightly public sex, kashimo is reckless & dumb, dumbification, manhandling, rough sex, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, choking, cervix fucking, unprotected sex, etc.

i spent so much time on this & was winging it fr so it didn’t come out how i liked 😭😭. & it got much longer then i wanted it to be. also please excuse any typos or errors, it’s late 🙏🏾

You always thought boxing, wrestling, and martial arts were such violent sports. You didn’t see the appeal of beating someone black and blue— or forcing them into submission. You weren’t a pacifist by any means but fighting was just something you didn’t get it. Especially, when it came to making money off it.

Truthfully, however— you didn’t need to see the point. Your only concern was massaging your patients and assuring they didn’t overextend themselves.

Which happened often.

Today would be a good day for you, a starting point actually. After two years of grueling work, several months of training, and being placed in a hospital you hated; you were finally sought out by a private practice— a gym for martial artists. From what you’ve heard they were good; winning tournaments back to back and putting on quite a show for the audience.

A name that frequently showed up was Kashimo Hajime, the proclaimed God of Lightning. A title earned given how fast he was, no one able to keep up with the amount of punches that he landed on his opponent. You were sure that was impressive in its own right, but you simply couldn’t get past the name.

It made you giggle each time you heard it.

Your eyes trailed away from the building infront of you and over to your phone hooked up to the stand in your car. You pressed your lips together, “Looks like I’m here..” You mumbled to yourself, feeling anxiety gather at the pit of your stomach. A new job always did that to you, imagining just about everything going wrong. From possibly falling or messing up a chart.

First day jitters always killed your motivation.

But, you took a small breath; eyes closed briefly as you sinked into your seat for a moment. It would be fine, this would be fine. You’re gonna do great. Such affirmations swarmed in your mind, pushing you away from delving down a deep hole of anxiety and insecurity. Once you felt your heart relax just a bit you grabbed your phone and tote bag, turning the car off and soon exiting it. Shutting the door behind you, you assured the doors were locked before approaching the large metal doors of the building. Pulling them open, your eyes scanned the large area. It looked like a relatively regular gym; punching bags hanging from the ceiling in a few places, weights, and treadmills. The most interesting thing was the boxing ring in the middle of the room.

“Hello, miss? Can I help you?” You jumped a little as the voice interrupted your train of thought, turning to face a woman who was seated behind the front desk. You flashed a false confident smile, approaching her while shifting through your bag. “H—hi, I’m [Full Name]. I’m here to start as a PTA.” Your hand finally clasped around what you needed, lifting a packet of papers from the confinements of your bag and passing them over to her awaiting hand.

Her eyes scanned the pages rather quickly, “Oh, you’ll be working with Ms. Makoto.” She mused, flashing you a small smile as she passed the papers back. “She always comes late, so for now; I’d suggest walking around to get a feel for your surroundings. Maybe even talk to your future patients.” She shrugged to which you nodded, a small thank you, escaping you.

You wish she hadn’t suggested the thing at all, given how nerve-racking it felt to you. However, you now felt obligated to do it, especially with the way she was smiling at you so sweetly. Damn her.

Situating the strap of your bag onto your shoulder correctly, you headed over towards the actual gym area; eyes on the swivel to assure you didn’t end up in anyone’s way. Like you hoped, however, the martial artists were far too focused on their training, paying you no mind as their fists slammed against some punch bag or they pumped their legs on the treadmill.

The atmosphere itself was nice, really. You didn’t mind it, maybe you would get used to it.

Once you were finished walking around the people lifting weights, your eyes traveled over to the boxing ring in the middle, noticing two forms entering it and several people surrounding it. Interest quickly invaded your mind, moving towards the crowd to get a better look. You luckily found your way to the front, staring up at the two men that were currently stretching.

One was unimpressionable; hair shaved short with tanned skin. He was shirtless showcasing his simple build. He wasn’t small but wasn’t big either, sculpted but not bulky? It was clear he wasn’t a seasoned fighter. But, as your eyes turned over to his opponent; the difference was all too clear.

Standing at an impressive six feet, cloaked in a tight black shirt and baggy white pants, bandages wrapped around his forearms. You watched as he cupped his hands together behind his back, stretching his arms and fuck, were they big. Or rather the man was big in general, enough so you pitied his opponent.

You watched as he rose his arms above his head this time, eyes zoning in on the way his shirt followed— revealing his toned stomach and the pretty blue trail that traveled down. Oh, how you wanted to see where it lead to.

“[Name]?”

“Huh!?” You gasped out of your daze, head snapping over to a woman that stood beside you. She had short black hair that illuminated her pale features perfectly, sharp dark eyes already staring at you. Her gloss stained lips curled once she had your attention, “I’m Makoto. I’m sorry for being late.”

You gave a nervous smile, “I—I don’t mind. I was just uh.. getting to know my surroundings.” The physical therapist nodded at you with a smile, eyes turning over to the ring as a small sigh escaped her.

“I’ve told Kashimo to stop entertaining these rookies.”

“Entertaining?”

Makoto nodded with a soft hum, crossing her arms over her chest. “They always want to fight him for some reason, riling him up until he finally agrees to a spar. It’s ridiculous,” She mused, tapping a finger against her skin. “It’s clear whose going to win.”

You pressed your lips together, eyes turning back to the ring. To your surprise, Kashimo was standing upright while his opponent was in a fighting stance. Cocky.. Was what ran through your mind, eyes darting between the two men.

The man with a shaved head blew air from his mouth, springing towards Kashimo in a single step. Your eyes widened as you watched the cyan-haired man step out of the other’s way, bawling his fists. The sound of skin to skin contact was the only thing you could register, astonished by the pure speed of his fists, opponent trapped under the flurry of his hits. Makoto was right, he didn’t stand a chance; falling to the ring the moment the god of lightning was finished with him. The match couldn’t have been longer than five seconds.

“Kashimo, It was only supposed to be a spar— not a knockout!” Makoto called, softly complaining about unnecessary concussions. You watched as Kashimo’s bored expression fixed onto the physical therapist, a small snarl on his face. Makoto hissed at this, fussing at him not to glare at her.

He didn’t entertain her yelling long, eyes traveling away from her and fixing onto you. You didn’t hold his gaze long, or rather— you couldn’t, given its intensity. You simply turned to face Makoto waiting for her to get over her yelling so you could get started.

. . .

A few hours of work passed, the only major concern being Kashimo’s opponent and assuring he had no fractures or concussions from the match. Much to Makoto’s relief, he didn’t. Other than that you were observing and looking over charts, noticing the inconsistencies in Kashimo’s. Makoto then explained to you the man ignored injuries and she quite literally has to corner him to get him into her office. The mental image made you laugh softly.

Soon enough your shift was over, being informed you did well and to come at the same time tomorrow. It delighted you to hear such a thing. Exiting the building, you approached your car while searching for your keys in your bag, humming softly to yourself. Finally finding them, you pull them out; attention however, shifting over to the gym doors when they opened.

To your surprise Kashimo stepped out, holding a large duffel bag in his left hand while his right? Reached for the end of his shirt, lifting it up and using it to wipe his face. All under your gaze.

You felt ashamed staring at him in such a way, especially since he was technically your patient.

“You need somethin’, Miss [Name]?” His voice was muffled against the damp fabric, pulling his shirt down to reveal his sharp eyes starting at you. You jumped in surprise, nearly dropping your keys. “Oh, oh, no! No..” You breathed out, shakily pressing the button on them to unlock your car. To your horror the man gave you a small smirk;

“Safe travels then.”

“Mhm! You too!” The words escaped you meekly and far louder then you wished. Snatching the driver’s side door open, you entered the vehicle, barely even slamming the door closed before you turned the engine over. You quickly pulled out of that parking lot, attempting to forget the scene that just happened.

. . .

A soft sigh escaped you as you sat on your bed, leaning back to lay down, arms laying across your stomach. The sky was painted black, stars twinkling overhead with the moon rested aimlessly. It was getting late and you needed to get some sleep for tomorrow. You weren’t sure how work would be but you wanted to mentally prepare for the worst. However, you just.. didn’t want to sleep yet?

It was weird, really. You didn’t feel tired despite how nervous you were today. You almost felt proud of yourself.

“Still need to get some sleep though..” You mumbled to yourself, rolling over to your stomach. Pressing your face into your plush blankets for a moment, you mulled over how to force yourself to sleep. Milk, melatonin maybe? You don’t know if you had either. You spared two more minutes of thought before an idea entered your mind.

Masturbation. You were a genius.

You reached blindly for your phone while turning onto your back again, scooting up farther onto your bed as you opened the dreaded X app. Ignoring tweets from friends and celebrities you went straight to the search bar typing in something random. You just needed to get off once, it normally worked for you.

Using one hand to scroll, the other went down to your lower half, happy you previously discarded your pants as your fingers brushed across your thinly covered pussy. Warming yourself up, your fingers pressed against your covered clit, slowly rubbing it; feeling the gentle pleasure travel up your spine.

Fifteen minutes passed of this and your agitated scrolling, frustration building as nothing in particular caught your eye. Each video was either too short or too boring for something to use, or even some too much. This wasn’t supposed to be difficult anyhow. Just a quick session and then sleep. Yet, here you were; boredly scrolling.

You nearly settled for your imagination rather then a video until something caught your eye. Your thumb hovered over the video, eyes zoning in on it. It was simple, a male by himself, showcasing his lower half but nothing else. You saw the imprint of his dick through his sweats, strong hand gliding across it; teasing himself.

Pursing your lips, you clicked on the video, getting into a comfortable position. You watched as he delicately pulled the strings on his pants, watching the band loosen. His hips rose, hooking a thumb under the waistband to slowly tug down— not far, but far enough his length slowly came into view; popping out when his sweats rested on his thighs.

You sucked in a breath, watching his veined hand clasp around his pretty cock. He was pale, tip a soft red with precum spilling from the slit. He was also.. well, big; lengthy and thick— particularly around the base. You attempted to imagine it inside you, pussy pulsing at the thought of it splitting you open.

His thumb rolled on the crown of his length, collecting some precum before smoothing it down his shaft. To your surprise you heard a soft groan, feeling your stomach tighten from the sound. Most men on this annoying app were quiet in their videos, something you couldn’t stand. And while he wasn’t loud, it was loud enough your hand went straight under your panties, beginning to roll tight circles on your clit.

You moved in sync to how he fisted himself, his soft sighs and grunts escaping your phone’s speaker; envious you couldn’t hear such things right into your ear. You bit your lip as your legs shook, two fingers traveling down your slick slit to plunge inside you. Your hips rose, grinding your clit into your palm as your eyes focused on the man. You gasped out, watching as his pace quickened, hips rising to meet the thrusts of his hands.

His voice became ragged, pants desperate as he chased his release. And you, your own. You were so close, watching this stranger fuck himself. A pretty sight you couldn’t look away from.

“Oh, fuck..” Was what he hissed, nearly making your eyes roll back. You were there, right there, so close, until— you noticed something. Your eyes had unfortunately wandered from his cock to his stomach peeking out under his shirt, spotting something.

A soft tuft of cyan colored hair.

Your eyes widened for a moment, feeling your pleasure come crashing down as flashes of Kashimo in the ring and outside the building entered your mound. The way it lined below his navel so perfectly, it was all too familiar. “There’s no way..” You thought to yourself, attempting to rationalize it in your head. Kashimo Hajime, martial artist known as the god of lightning just didn’t seem like the type to do such a thing.

But then again, you knew nothing about him, so who were you to declare it wasn’t like him?

Such thoughts killed your lust filled high, pulling your hand out of your panties and quickly clicking out of the app. You turned on your side, phone rested face down on your blankets. Your eyes pinched close, attempting to calm your racing thoughts and think of solutions to this.

It was all pure coincidence. Nothing more, nothing less. Maybe dying happy trails that particular color was some trend you didn’t hear about?

You seriously hoped it was.

. . .

Despite your many thoughts last night, you fell asleep shortly after that event. Though you did wake up and feel miserable, just imagining how nervous you’ll be facing Kashimo.

It’s probably not him.. right? You continued to try and convince yourself, closing your car door shut and beginning your trek over to the gym. Opening the doors and entering, you gave a brief smile to the receptionist that greeted you and made a beeline to Makoto’s office, reaching for the door.

Only for it to open, right in your face.

“[Name]! I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were there!” The physical therapist hissed softly, watching as you soothed the pain on your forehead. You only gave a small smile, shaking your head. “It’s okay. I wasn’t paying attention anyway.” The brief pain knocked Kashimo right from your thoughts, something you deeply appreciated and nearly thanked the reckless older woman for.

Makoto looked you over for a moment before sighing softly, nodding. “Alright, well. Set your things down. It’s not a lot to do today, but that could change.”

You gave a brief smile and nodded, entering her office. It was simple, resembling a hospital room with shelves lining the walls and a long black bed off against the wall. You placed your bag beside her own, turning around to spot Makoto at the door, talking to someone.

Moving closer you quickly realized it was Kashimo. His expression just like yesterday, bored with a snarl pointed towards the older woman— who was currently nagging, just like yesterday. You swallowed a breath, flashes of the previous night entering your mind, far too quick and vivid to ignore. It didn’t help that in the midst of her words his eyes traveled to you, causing you to still; wishing to fall through the floor right then and there.

The corner of his mouth twitched, “Don’t you have someone to mentor instead of wasting your time, naggin’?” Hajime questioned, finally releasing you from his gaze to stare back at Makoto. The physical therapist’s voice rose in pitch, Hajime turning on his heel and walking off much to her annoyance..

And your relief. You hoped he was too busy training to acknowledge you today.

Two hours passed with you following Makoto around, writing down a few notes on people’s charts and even tapping some people. They were nice and encouraged you even when your hands shook a little or you stumbled over your words. You really did like this job so far.

It was the afternoon now, Makoto letting you go on a thirty minute break. You entered the lounge room of the gym, hand clasped around the black container of food you had grabbed from your bag. Approaching the microwave, you opened it open and slid the container inside— shutting the door and pressing a random time. You leaned against the counter, scrolling through your phone for a moment before an idea creeped into your mind.

Assuring no one else was in the room, you clicked onto the app you used last night, going to your previous search and beginning to scroll. It took about five minutes before you finally reached where you wanted; the video you watched last night. Taking your food from the microwave, you clicked onto the account of the video, waltzing over to a chair and sitting down.

You attempted to rationalize looking at porn — or rather a porn account at work. It’s not like you were actively watching the videos, or touching yourself; you were simply searching for something, anything that signified this wasn’t Kashimo’s account.

But, you weren’t given much. Firstly, the account’s icon and header was blank while the bio was empty too. Despite this, it had quite a few tweets and followers, highlighting this account was quite popular. You bit the inside of your cheek once again, looking around you for a moment before clicking on the media section of the page. You scrolled, leaning your cheek into your palm. Most of it was solo stuff, showcasing his lower half and never his face. Your heart thumped however; when you noticed the spiky, cyan colored hair that rested behind him in a certain video. You bit the inside of your cheek, jumping when the lounge room door opened.

To your horror, Kashimo entered— giving you a brief glance before walking over to the fridge in the room. His hand reached for something, snatching it from the fridge and rising to shut the door, moving over to the microwave. While opening the door and placing his food inside, you watched his other hand fish his phone from his sweats.

And that’s when a idea popped into your head. A very, very stupid one. Your face turned back to your phone screen, biting your lip. You were still trying to convince yourself this wasn’t him, this was just some random man you’ve never met before.

And so, if you were to like a tweet of his where— your name was completely visible, you were sure he wouldn’t react at all. Your plan seemed solid, ignoring the nagging feeling in the back of your mind.

Taking a shaky breath, your thumb pressed against the hollow heart of a random tweet, slowly placing your phone back onto the table. Maybe.. maybe you were imagining it but, you could have sworn you heard the soft buzz of a phone.

One that wasn’t yours.

Fear shot up your spine, head moving slowly to the side, eyes traveling to the only other person in the room.

Who was already staring at you, cradling his black cased phone.

Your eyes locked, watching as a grin pulled his features. It was him, oh it was definitely him. Your eyes widened as the realization set in, quickly turning forward to snatch your phone and food from the table, getting up on shaky legs and heading towards the door.

“Not hungry, [Name]?” His tone was mocking, far too teasing for you to ignore. You didn’t even spare him a glance as you quickly shook your head, snatching the door open and exiting the lounge.

The realization of the situation finally dawned on you as you sped over to Makoto’s office, nearly crushing your container of food in your hand.

You had found Kashimo Hajime’s twitter, his.. special twitter. And he knew, you knew it was him.

. . .

About three weeks had passed since that fateful day. You were, surprisingly— okay. The day after it happened Kashimo seemed normal, not ignoring you but focused on his training. You remained on edge for the rest of the week expecting something. Maybe a big blow out or a private conversation, but you got neither.

And if you weren’t sure if you were happy, or upset by that. Either way, three weeks went by with radio silence and you growing accustomed to your job.

It was about forty minutes until you would clock out, seated at Makoto’s desk and flipping through papers. Your eyes scanned the page, assuring each chart was up to date and nothing was out of order. Luckily no one has gotten injured majorly these last few weeks, but the necessary procedures had to be done.

You heard movement beside you, eyes drifting away from the stack for a moment to spot your boss grabbing her things and placing them into her bag. Noticing your stare, she turned with an apologetic smile— “Sorry, [Name]! My daughter needs to get picked up. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

You nodded at her with a smile, glancing at the clock. You would have been nervous to be left alone, but it was only thirty minutes. And once you clocked out anyone that stayed back for training were on their own.

The door closed behind Makoto as she exited the office, your head turning to focus back on the papers. You hummed softly to yourself, pressing your cheek into your palm as you scribbled something on a page, flipping to the next.

Several minutes passed with this continuous routine, eyes finally shifting away from the work over to your phone. Five minutes until your shift was over. With that, you stood, collecting the papers into a neat stack before placing it back into its manila folder; placing that into your tote bag. You glanced around the area, assuring you weren’t leaving anything behind before grabbing your bag, pulling it onto your shoulder. Turning on your heel, you approached the door and opened it; letting out a soft startled noise.

“Oh, I was expecting Makoto..” Kashimo spoke, leaning against the doorframe. He was dressed in his usual attire; a black tight shirt with white sweatpants. His dark eyes traced over your form, tilting his head at you. You attempted to ignore the way his lips twitched a bit, as if holding something back.

You quickly cleared your throat, “Did you.. uh— need her for something? She left early is all.”

Kashimo hummed softly, “No..I think you’ll do.”

“What?”

“Think you could get the kink out my arm? I must have.. punched the bag wrong.” Kashimo claimed, smiling down at you. You withtook a breath, clenching the strap of your bag tightly. He was lying, and he knew he was lying too. Kashimo Hajime, punching the bag wrong? You could almost laugh at the thought.

And that smile? Oh— it was far from genuine, far from pure. Every alarm in your head rung, warning you to refuse and leave. Yet, you didn’t listen to a single one. Your body instead turned, waltzing over to the desk and setting your things down. “You can sit on the bed. I’ll take a look at your arm.”

The words barely escaped you before the deafening sound of the door closed behind him, a soft thanks, escaping him as he sat down. You felt his eyes on your every move, watching as you approached the sink and began to wash your hands— shakily, you might add. You spent extra time there, afraid to face the man.

Soon enough, however, you grabbed a paper towel from beside you; drying your hands and turning the faucet off. Tossing the soiled towel in the trash, you turned and walked over to him. “Wh—which arm?” You questioned softly, watching as he lifted his right one. You nibbled on your cheek, gently grabbing his bicep, thumbs pressing against the muscle carefully.

“If it starts to hurt, tell me..” You murmured softly, room back to being silent. This was stupid really; you making such a show of things. You knew he wasn’t hurt, shown in the way he reacted little with each squeeze you gave him; even pressing harder to see if he would react.

Like you suspected, Kashimo didn’t react at all.

“I wonder..” You blinked as his words interrupted your jumbled thoughts, blinking over to him. He was already staring at you, a small smirk pulling his lips. One that caused your stomach to drop. One that he wore in the lounge room that day. “—when you connected the dots, when you found out it was me.. did still watch me?”

You breathed softly, releasing his arm. “I’m… I’m sorry, I’m not sure what you mean.” You played at acting dumb, a useless facade he didn’t fall for at all. Instead, Kashimo chuckled softly, turning to glance away from you.

“Oh, don’t play dumb sweetheart. You know I’m asking if you fucked yourself to my videos.” His tone was harsh, eyes turning back to you; gaze intense. You swallowed heavily, watching him slowly lift himself off the bed. You stepped back, murmuring as he met your step, backing you against the cabinets. “Bet you wished it was my cock instead of your fingers; splitting you open, fucking you until your nothing but a crying mess.”

“Kashimo..” You spoke softly, rising your hands and placing them at his waist. You needed space, air— you felt like you would suffocate with his large form covering; with his smell swarming your senses. You gasped softly as his lips moved to your ear, cool breath tickling your skin. “Please..”

“Haven’t even touched you and you’re already beggin’ for me.” His words were mocking, a breathy chuckle escaping him shortly after. “Go on.. tell me what you want, [Name].”

You could nearly moan at the way your name fell from his lips, eyes pinched closed as your hands crumbled his shirt in a tight grip. You struggled for a moment to form words, eyes pinned to the floor to avoid his gaze. Unfortunately for you, this was one of the few times Kashimo was ever patient; hands seated perfectly on the porcelain cabinets, refusing to touch you until you answer his question.

Finally, after what seemed like moments you glanced up at him, rising to lock your lips with his own. You, please. Was what you whimpered into his mouth, feeling him react immediately. A hand rose to wrap around your neck, the other coming to the underside of your thigh. Kashimo’s clenched around your throat a little, driving his tongue into your mouth and marking it as his own. You whined softly at this, gripping his shirt so much the fear of ripping it entered your mind briefly. The heavy makeout continued only his hand dropped from your neck, grasping your either thigh and lifting you. Your legs wrapped around his waist, feeling him walk backwards until he sat on the bed.

Your pussy rested just above his crotch, feeling his hardening length through the fabric of your stockings and his sweats. Your arms wrapped around his neck, murmuring against his lips as you slowly ground against him. To your dismay; the man rose his hand, slamming his palm against your ass— the sting causing you to jump, pulling back as a whine escaped your throat. “Kashimo—!” You hissed softly, glaring at the man who grinned back at you.

His fingers soothed the path, rubbing slowly circles into your covered skin, gripping every once in a while. “I suggest you fix your face or you won’t be coming at all tonight.” Kashimo breathed, slapping the same cheek once again. You lurched forward, gripping him so harshly as a soft cry escaped you. “Gonna take my time with you.. explore every inch of you under these clothes,” He hummed softly, hand reaching under your black dress, running his fingers across your thinly covered ass.

“— and i’m not gonna rush just cause your slutty pussy is desperate for my attention.”

“Kashimo…” You whined softly, pleading with your eyes. The man only smiled at you, a sinister smile; highlighting how much he enjoyed toying with you.

“It’s Hajime, princess.” The martial artist corrected, leaning to place wet kisses against your cheeks and neck. You moaned softly, feeling his fingers curl under your dress, slowly pulling it up your body. You moved uncomfortably as the cool air hit your bare skin, feeling him reach behind you; fiddling with your bra for a moment. Once he had unclipped the undergarment he tossed it aside with your dress, pulling back to glance at your exposed chest. You grew nervous under his gaze, having half a mind to cover yourself. Only, he didn’t give you enough time to do so before his large hands grabbed the soft mounds, leaning down to suck a kiss on your collarbone.

His thumbs pressed against your slowly hardening nipple, nicking your skin with his canines. You breathed softly at this, hands rising to curl your fingers into his hair, gasping as you felt his kisses lower; soft lips grazing your areola before he opened his mouth— wrapping his lips around your nipple. The unfamiliar feeling caused you to gasp, eyes pinched closed as you felt him began to suck; gently grazing his teeth across your heated skin while his tongue slid across your pretty bud. Hajime’s other hand was busy playing with your unattended breast, groping and rolling your nipple between his fingers.

Your moans grew, rising your chest into his face more; chasing after the pleasure he was giving, searching for more. All he was doing was sucking your breasts and yet, your pussy was clenching around nothing— feeling as if you were an inch away from release. You gasped out as he gently clamped down on your nipple, rolling the tender bud to hear you squeal. The ministrations continued as a hand traveled down your body, tracing the stretch marks that lined your skin— rubbing across your rolls before his fingers collected your stockings; pulling them down your body with such force they began to rip.

“Ha—hajime, they’re ripping.” You whimpered softly, words ignored as he snatched the rest of the ruined fabric from your body, tossing it to the forming pile. Your breath hitched as his hand traveled between your legs, two fingers gliding across your covered slit, feeling the wet spot forming on your panties. A soft swear escaped you as he pushed down, pressing against your clit, slowing rolling circles against it.

The added pleasure caused you to lean your head back, eyes pinched close as the feeling consumed your body. This was wrong, more than wrong actually. He was a patient and this was your boss’s office, the bed used by several others when being checked on. Yet here the two of you were, dirtying it with your own selfish desires. You should be embarrassed, maybe even ashamed.

Maybe you would feel so after he was done with you.

A soft pop escaped him as he rose away from your chest, the pretty mounds now tainted with his saliva. His eyes carried down your form, enjoying the sight; your hips moving at an attempt to find more friction in his hand, biting your bottom lip to cover the soft, pretty breaths threatening to escape your throat. Hajime hated himself for waiting to touch you like this.. to make you his. His eyelids lowered as he leaned close, pressing hot kisses against your skin again. “Using my hand to get off, huh? How pathetic..”

In any other situation you would have been offended by his choice of words, but now? It only caused you to moan softly, hips moving fast against his hand— feeling Hajime’s lips move over to your throat. You gripped him as you felt yourself grow more and more aroused, a band forming that was ready to break. Your moans grew louder as you got closer, digging your fingers into his shoulders before your eyes widened; feeling him move his hand away from between your legs.

The band slowly faded, high slipping through your fingers. You nearly sobbed— his name exiting you in a soft whine as the man did nothing but grin down at you. Hajime’s hands traveled up your form, soon tenderly wrapping his fingers around your neck, leaning close.

“Quit whinin’..” He cooed, stamping a kiss against your skin. You gasped as you felt his hood tighten a bit, hand drifting right back between your legs, breaching your panties. Without much warning he curled two fingers inside you, feeling your wet walls clench his thick digits. You swore softly, feeling his fingers reach much deeper then your own could; stretching you out and working you open.

Your pussy began to squelch with each thrust of the digits inside you, thumb rising to push against your engorged clit; hand continuing to hold you steady by the throat. Hajime enjoyed the way your pretty broken moans escaped your throat, voice vibrating against his palm. He curled his fingers once more, watching the way you jumped, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. “Can’t believe I’m fucking you dumb just from my fingers..” The words came out in an astonished coo, cock twitching under the confinements of his sweats and pants. Oh he couldn’t wait.. wait to see the way you fell apart as he split you open with his length.

But he needed to be patient. Needed to warm you up properly before completely ruining you.

So the pace of his fingers quickened, sounds of your messy pussy surrounding the room; acting as background noise for the high-pitched moans that escaped you. Your hips met each thrust, gripping his wrist to ground yourself. Your thighs squeezed his forearm, head knocking back as you came all over his hand. The man’s fingers soon slowed to a complete stop, withdrawing them from your wetness.

You barely registered him sticking his fingers into his mouth, sucking your mess off them. Once they were clean he leaned forward, kissing you softly— allowing you to taste yourself. So dirty..

Your lips moved slow, his thumb tracing your throat as a soft praise pushed from his lips. Soon enough you felt his hips rise, pressing his clothed cock against your wetness, grinding slowly. Even if you were still sensitive from just a few moments ago, you wanted, no, needed him desperately. So much so it nearly physically hurt.

Hajime rose, switching your positions to slowly lay you out on the bed, pushing you up higher. You whined as he body left you for a second, the sound quickly dying down when you noticed him unclothing. First was his shirt, revealing his sculpted torso and that damned happy trail. The man smirked at you as he tossed his shirt to the side, reaching for his bottoms next. Pushing them down, you watched as his length was revealed. To have it right infront of you rather then on a screen, well.. your phone didn’t do him justice at all.

“‘S not gonna fit.” You mused softly, eyes snapping back to his face, nervous. Hajime almost felt prideful from your words if it wasn’t for your tone of voice. He leaned close, pressing a kiss to your chin. “I’ll make it fit.” He mumbled, pushing close against you, grabbing his cock with one hand while the other grasped your thigh. Rubbing the tip across your slit, he smoothed your juices down his shaft, biting the inside of his cheek. Slowly, he pushed inside you, watching the way your eyebrows twitched, how your legs began to close.

A pained sigh escaped you, Hajime smoothing his hand up and down your heated skin. “Taking me so well, baby.. Just relax.” He spoke softly, hissing when he felt your walls clench from the praise. Soon enough his hips stilled the moment he pushed all the way inside, grasping the underside of your thighs— eyes closed. It took everything not to fuck you into the bed right then and there, feeling the way you carefully moved to adjust yourself; but each clench caused his resolve to wither away more and more.

Moments passed before Hajime opened his eyes, glancing down at you and searching for any sign of pain. When he realized there was none, he experimentally pulled his hips back so only his tip was inside, pushing back in— watching in delight at the way your mouth fell open in a ring O.

Nothing else held the martial artist, soft ruts quickly changing into slams. His cock bullied it’s way inside you, filling you completely. Your legs shook in his hold, gripping the fabric underneath you as broken moans escaped you. Hajime was knocking the wind out of you; pushing your legs up higher so that your knees were touching your chest. The stretch was uncomfortable for a moment, something you would surely feel in the morning— but you didn’t care. The pleasure this man was giving you overshadowed it all.

Your walls clenched him with each drag of his hips, his dark eyes captivated by the way you hugged him so tightly. “Wanted me so fucking bad, didn’t you, princess?“ Hajime hissed, grinning as he watched your eyes attempt to focus on him. The man chuckled softly to himself, leaning over you, trapping you under his body. “Oh, you don’t have to answer sweetheart— I already know the truth.”

The man was drilling into you at this point, tip kissing your g-spot as shameless cries escaped you. Tears treaded down your warm cheeks, grasping his arms for stability. Your breaths were hurried, stomach clenching as you felt yourself get closer and closer. “H—haji.. Fuck, I’m so close!”

He relished under the nickname, slamming you into the bed as he planted hot kisses against your skin. “Go on, then. Make a mess on my cock, sweet girl.” With his permission you came, gushing around him; arousal dripping down his length to the floor. You trembled from the feeling, gasping once you realized he hadn’t stopped moving. So sensitive you were, crying out to him as you reached to grip his arm.

“I—I cant, Haji—!”

“You can..“ The man corrected, angling his hips to push deeper inside you. “Waited so long to fuck you like this, to watch you go dumb on my cock— ‘M not stopping until I repay you for those three weeks.”

And he wasn’t lying either. It was almost felt like hours passed with him putting you into different positions, driving you deeper and deeper into the bed to the point it began to creak. By now you could barely speak, could barely form a sound other then a jumbled babble of his name and a soft gasp.

In the midst of it all you were suddenly pushed against the wall, thighs wrapped around his form as he shoved himself into you; a spark of pain washing over you each time he brushed your cervix— pain that melted away rather quickly.

From the way his hips stuttered you knew he was close, his face pushed into your neck as he gripped your skin harshly. Skin on skin contact filled the room, desperate sounds of pleasure following until Hajime swore; spilling into you. The warmth alone pushed you over the edge, cumming for the upteenth time that night— walls milking his cock.

The man’s hips finally came to a halt, breathing heavily as he simply held you there up against the wall. After a few moments he walked backwards, sitting on the bed; the two of you groaning in sensitivity. He pulled your hot body against his own, cradling your lower back with his fingers tracing the dimples there.

The room was silent as the two of you caught your breath, simply enjoying holding the other.

Soon enough the man pulled back, continuing to smooth his hands across your skin. “You’ll probably have to call in sick tomorrow.” Hajime murmured, grinning at the soft chuckle that escaped you.

“Yeah.. you’re probably right.”

#mdni #mechahrt #black!reader #hajime kashimo x reader #jjk x black reader #jjk x fem!reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk x poc!reader #jjk x plus size reader #hajime kashimo x black!reader

[shop-korea]

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OF - FLORIDA - 27TH - STATE - 14TH - VIOLATED

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NICHOLAS SPARKS - ‘THE - NOTEBOOK’ - FROM

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RETURN - MY - LARGE - PRINT - EDITION - GOT

3 BOOKS - 4 - THANKSGIVING - WEEK - BUT DID

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THAT - AFFECTED - ME - BUT - LOVING - THE

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MY - EBT - FOOD - STAMPS - TOMORROW - $76

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#youtube

[dilxcs]

hmph, fine, but only because you'd rather cuddle i'll send tora his way-- I'm proud of you for going to the gym! And you not falling while on the treadmill is a win in my book 🥴 are you ready to come to the gym with me? I can show you how to use the stretching machine

What're they gonna do? Just yell a little bit and that's about it. I'll sic Baba on them and everything will be fine 😀 I am so ready for Ki to beat up Jiji. I cleared out storage on my phone for all the videos 'm gonna take.

Matching sweats, matching hoodies, I want it all! Gotta tell the world who you belong to. Can I convince you to get matching jewelry or even scents? Too much? 🥴

You and Kiyo own every part of my heart and soul, princess. Don't ever forget that.

yayyy cuddle time 🥹🥹 send tora my regards! i’ll treat him after for the ‘hard’ work 🥰 i’m glad you’re proud of me as well, babe! and uhm,,, i don’t feel confident yet to have you join me to the gym, i just KNOW you will laugh at me and i’m not ready for that 💀 give me a few more weeks and then maybeee you can join 🥲 you gotta teach me then to use the stretching machine correctly, cause hell i’m not flexible at all and i need to work on that dhsvhssb

that’s true! eonni can take them on, no biggie 🤺 HAHAHAH PLSS— this is exactly why i love you! seeing the ‘all mighty leopard’ getting beat up by our kid is just amazing and ofc we need to record that (and send it to Ryoko-san) 🥴

hmm,,, i’m actually down for both! let’s get matching rings with our birthstones and matching scents, cause by now you are already aware that i love scents 🥰 maybe we can even get a tattoo with Ki and Konki’s birth flower 🥺

IDBSHSHSNSJ YOU CAN’T JUST SAY SWEET THINGS LIKE THAT OR I WILL CRY 😭😭 but fr tho, i love you both so much with my entire being and ain’t nobody will ever change that, my sayang 🤍

#༊ — mail time [📮] #༺⚘ — sayang [💌]

[toehwa6]

What’s up partner wanna talk about chronic pain?

Here’s the scoop on chronic pain, at least in my perspective.

So everyone is different, but my shit is I’m 25 with a fuckin degenerative disc disorder which for me is when your fuckin bones just go away. It fucking sucks and it gave me stenosis, two partially herniated discs, and now I’m starting to get fuckin sciatica.

As you can imagine, but back fuggin hurts all the fuckin time, except when I’m walking or on Valium.

Unfortunately I can only walk like 2.5 miles, stand for 40 min, and sit for like 20-30 but when im sitting im fucked and I usually have to get up a bunch.

My life rn is fucked cause I literally do PT for 30min in the morning(not too bad), an hour in the afternoon, and then another 30min session before bed.

All in between im fuckin walking on a treadmill or juggling because I learned to do that recently so I have a something to do while im standing. (Actually very nice)

Anyway, down to the meat of it.

The shit I just described is fucking horrible, and some days I can’t walk or go and do shit like work or get groceries. And everytime I think the pain can’t get worse it does.

But fr the shittiest part about chronic pain *for me* is the fuckin depression that comes along with it.

All I think about all the time is

Im a burden, im worthless, im stuck here, I invalidate myself and my disability even tho Im in pain and can’t walk.

I went to a chronic pain seminar and they focused on the intrusive thoughts.

But they talked about things like

Is the pain ever gonna go away, is the pain ever gonna get worse, am I ever gonna get better

None of those applied to me

Imo those are thoughts you have in the first 6 months of chronic pain, but then you adjust and you don’t care anymore. At least I didn’t after awhile.

I accepted that my situation was fucked, it was never going away, and it was only going to get worse.

Easy peezy

But that weight is always replaced by something else.

Now I hate myself because I’ll never be better than what I am now.

I can’t go to school or have a career I want.

I can’t travel or do things I want to do.

I can’t even be comfortable in my house anymore.

All the while I’m just so focused on not bothering anyone with my problem’s because I’m so afraid of being a burden.

About 8 years ago, my little brother passed away. It took me years to not be known as the dead brother guy.

Now I’m just the disability back pain guy.

I don’t want to be that. I just want to be me.

But for anyone looking in, especially when I can’t hide it. That’s what they see.

It’s funny when people say if they had what I have they would just kill themselves. Like I get it lol. It’s nice to laugh instead of be pitied.

It makes me feel so bad when people have to make accommodations for me.

I spent my whole life trying to be as independent as possible, and now I’m in a position where I NEED to rely on others.

Idk. I know how having chronic pain can make you feel hopeless.

But everyone I’ve talked to who is also in my position are the most positive and ambitious people I’ve met. They want to live their lives so much.

It’s people looking in with their oh no that must suck glasses that assume how I feel.

And that’s why it sucks that people think being in pain all the time when for me it’s just the depression.

I feel so bad that I’m choosing to just push through the pain to have a full time job because I don’t want to feel like a loser anymore.

I’ll literally be taking a pay cut and I’ll have to work more which will be hard. But idc because at least I’ll feel like I have a purpose and I’m doing something.

People always say, but toehwa6, you have a part time job, and you’re fucked! What are you gonna do!

I’m gonna do whatever the fuck I want even if I want to kill myself the whole time.

Hopefully it makes my depression better.

I’m starting to just ramble and shit but idk I hope you read it.

I just say push til tomorrow and it’ll be better. Even if it sucks too or it’s worse just tell yourself tomorrow will be better.

Just do what you want to do

Thanks

[moccahobi]

The Slope Bunny [Taehyung x Reader]

Summary: You’re staying at a ski resort and meet an interesting slope bunny.

genre: slope bunny au, skier au, fluff

wc: 2.3k

warnings: none

ratings: E for everyone

a/n: this is my @castlebangtan​ secret santa gift for @tatastaetae​! I hope you like my trash lolol. But fr. I hope you have such a happy hannuka and a great December/January. I love you and appreciate you so much and am so glad to be in a net with you.

a/n2: I posted this yesterday but it isn’t showing up in tags! Here is hoping a repost will help it show up!

Crisp air whipped passed you as you zoomed down yet another slope, eyes slowly taking in your surroundings. Excitement and freedom swam in your veins as you quickly maneuvered around moguls, your poles helping to make the process 1000x easier. Occasionally you even tried your hand at jumping over moguls (mostly if you didn't have enough time to maneuver around them). Despite the below freezing temperatures, there was a thin layer of sweat covering you and soaking into your clothes. Not that it mattered. There was rarely a moment when you weren't warm while skiing.

At a small rest in the slope, you stopped and looked around as you caught your breath. You only had two hundred to three hundred more meters left in the run. All around you were frosty trees and zooming skiers and boarders, some of whom were even weaving in between the trees on small paths made from constant use. It was a magical place and a magical time when many people had retreated to eat lunch.

With a happy smile (hidden behind a neck scarf) and a shiver of excitement, you were off again, determined to make the last stretch be amazing. All too soon, you saw the end of the slope coming closer and closer, a small line already forming in front of the chair lift.

Swiftly, you slid into the singles line, passing at least two four person groups. It only took a minute before you, a pair, and another single were grouped together and made it on to a chair lift, your poles tightly held in your hands and your feet dangling in the air.

You were on number 75.

"So... are you all enjoying the slopes today?" A snowboarder asked, their voice muffled by the balaklava they were wearing.

"Oh totally! This is our first time coming here." One of the people in the pair said excitedly as they looked around, "And the weather is absolutely perfect for skiing and boarding."

"For sure. This is the fourth time I've come to this resort. My favorite slope of all is the Flume. It's on the other side of the mountain." The boarder said, one of the people in the pair nodding excitedly.

"Oh! We were on the Flume this morning! It was fun! Do you have any recommendations?"

"Hmmm... I really enjoy the slopes on the western side of the mountain. It's best to go in the morning though. The slopes get ugly in the afternoon."

"Oh! Thank you!"

After that the chair lift was quiet.  You were fine with that, instead spending the ride watching skiers and boarders zoom down the slopes below, many of whom were reenergized after their lunch break. At the thought of lunch, you felt your stomach growl. Despite you always making the choice to stay out until the lunch rush starts to break, it always shocks you just how hungry you get when it is time to go in.

Soon enough, you were preparing to get off the lift, adjusting your position on the seat and making sure your skis and poles were in the right position. You left the lift without saying goodbye to those you rode it with, knowing that you'd likely never see them again (or recognize them if you did meet them again), and started to skate your way towards the end of the snow.

Even as you made your way back to the hotel room you shared with your friend, Lillia, and hung up your wet snow clothes in front of a small fire, your mind was on the slopes, running through your next plan. Would you want to start with some scenic greens or go straight into blacks?

Would you even want to go back out after lunch? Or would you want to stay in and then go out for night skiing later when it got darker?

There were so many options and you felt somewhat torn with what to do.

Eventually you stopped running through the possibilities when you finished making a large pot of mac and cheese (one of your go-to meals when on a ski trip). You didn't even bother putting it into a bowl, simply taking the pot and a hot plate and situating yourself in front of the television to watch some random show while you ate.

Soreness from a fall you took earlier that day started to settle on you by the time you finished the pot of mac and cheese and a bottle of gatorade, Lillia coming in to nap at one point. Falls weren't uncommon. Especially as you tried to make jumps and took random paths in the woods so you were a little surprised to feel the soreness from a particularly bad fall earlier.

You hummed in thought as you started to clean up some of your dishes. The hotel you were staying in had a hot tub. Maybe instead of going out for more skiing while it's still bright out, you can relax in the hot tub, warm your body up and soothe the soreness you were feeling. Plus, it would likely be empty at this time since everyone would be out on the slopes.

Quickly writing a letter to Lillia who was still dead asleep and would likely cuss you out before falling asleep (only to not remember) if you tried to wake her up to tell, you changed and went off to the hot tub, excitement running through your veins as you did.

You quickly walked to the "spa" room (which was just a room with some lockers, a treadmill, and a bathroom that had a door to the hot tub). When you got there though, you felt a bit of disappointment. Someone else was in the hot tub. Someone else was in the hot tub. Some good looking korean dude was just chilling in the hot tub, his eyes slowly looking around and his mind somewhere else as he relaxed.

All too soon, his eyes landed on you, a small smile growing on his face as he waved you over. It felt strange to walk over to him and get into the hot tub, your mind questioning why he was being so friendly and also stuttering over how good the man looked up close. You blushed self consciously as you slowly got into the water, the man’s eyes moving to look elsewhere as he thought.

“So… are you a fellow slope bunny?” The man asked after a minute or so of silence, his voice surprisingly deep and smooth.

You laughed awkwardly and smiled, “No. I ski. Who did you come here with? A significant other?”

“No. I am here with my friends. They all board or ski and I don’t. I wanted to come though because we rarely see each other normally.”

You nodded slowly, “I get that. My friend and I are here but we are such different skiers that we don’t often ski together. So we really only are getting together again after we are both done for the day.”

After a little bit of silence, the two of you found a solid rhythm full of conversation fragments and having time to think on your own. It was nice and in the conversation fragments that you did have, you found yourself hanging onto every word that the man said. Before you realized, the sun had set and you needed to get back to your hotel room.

You sighed and entered the one resort's restaurants. It was a simple grill and all you wanted after a whole day of skiing was a little food and a warm drink before retiring for the night and sleeping for twelve hours. Your friend had gone to the hotel room an hour before you so once again, you were all alone. You sat down at the bar, next to a familiar looking stranger who was quietly sipping on some hot coco as someone next to her talked excitedly. Quickly you looked over at them before realizing, it was your friend. She was in a large yellow sweater, her makeup done wildly and her hair unkempt from being in a helmet all day.

"Lillia! Crazy seeing you here!"

She laughed and smiled with a nod, "I got a little stir crazy in the hotel room so here I am!" She looked over at the person next to her, "Taehyung and I were just talking about animals!"

"Hello!" Taehyung said in a deep voice.

Wait.

You recognized him! He was the dude in the hot tub!

"Oh! Hello again! I am Y/n! How do you two know each other?"

"We don't." Lillia laughed, "Taehyung complimented my makeup and then we just started talking."

"Yeah! What's your favorite animal? Wait! Let me guess... hmmm," Taehyung's face twisted as he thought and you laughed quietly, ordering a hot green tea from the person behind the bar.

"I know what this is, Taehyung. So I'm not going to help you." Lillia laughed and leaned back in her high chair, happily looking between you and Taehyung who was now pouting.

"Well that's good! I don't want to cheat with this! I get the feeling that... hmm... your favorite animal is a Gopher."

You laughed loudly at that and shook your head, "Pig. Has been most of my life. Why did you think gopher?"

Taehyung blushed, "You're cute like a gopher."

Lillia snorted and hid a laugh with a sip of her hot coco as she looked at you (who was blushing like crazy). At that time, your green tea came and you quickly took a sip, wincing as the hot liquid burned your tongue.

"You are cute." Lillia sang and winked your way, downing the rest of her hot coco and signaling for a check.

You blushed more, somewhat tired of your friend's flirty nature.

"Very."

Gosh! At this point, you were as red as a tomato!

You coughed, "I don't know about that. Taehyung... what is your favorite animal?"

"A squirrel! I just love how cute they are! And have you ever tried to chase them? They are so fun to chase... or watch really! I have this bird feeder that prevents squirrels from eating the seed and I love watching them try tirelessly to eat the seed! Even when I have a soot block for them to eat from as well." Taehyung laughed happily, his eyes glowing as he started to gush about the bird feeders in front of his apartment window.  

The conversation lasted for a long while, the topics occasionally changing but the energy and amiableness never changing. Even when Lillia left and you went onto your third cup of tea (along with an appetizer to eat) and Taehyung started to drink his fourth cup of hot cocoa. You'd had this fun with few strangers before and by the time the bar was calling last call and you'd had five cups of tea and Taehyung six cups of hot cocoa, you were leaving the bar with a blushing face and Taehyung's hand held tightly in yours. From a mixture of the cold and poor flirting, the two of your faces were bright read but you were more excited than ever.

In the stairwell on the platform that opened up to your floor (which apparently was below his) the two of you were standing like two excited idiots, neither wanting to leave first.

"I really enjoyed talking with you today..." You started, looking down at your entwined hands, your face heating up more.

"Yeah."

"Can I have your number?"

Taehyung giggled excitedly and nodded and gave you his phone. Even after you texted yourself through his phone, you didn't leave. You simply looked up at Taehyung and his handsome face, a giddy excitement filling you as you did so.

"Yeah!" Lillia's voice cut through the giddy trance both Taehyung and you were in as she excitedly broke into the stairwell, "I've been waiting for three hours, Y/n! We need to talk!"

Taehyung quickly glanced at Lillia before looking back at you, "Well..."

"Well..."

"I guess I'll see you around."

"Yeah."

"Omg. You are both such love sick babies!" Lillia cried, roughly grabbing your arm and pulling you along to your hotel room.

"So... what happened, Y/n?"

"Omg. I am not doing this with you." You groaned and fell face first on the couch, hiding your face in the cushions to hide from Lillia's barrage of excited questions.

After Lillia became too exhausted to continue asking questions and retired to her bed for the night, you found yourself texting Taehyung. Hushed giggles and large paragraphs of texts filled your night and it all surmounted when Taehyung asked you out for breakfast in his hotel room the next morning. It wasn't hard to say yes, even with the knowledge that Lillia was going to make fun of you skipping first tracks tomorrow for breakfast with a guy you just met a few days ago.

Sure enough, after Lillia squealed and jumped around excitedly about your date, she started teasing you to no end. Her eyes excited as she threw joke after joke. She missed first tracks herself to help you prepare and before you knew it, she was rushing you out of the hotel room to go meet Taehyung in the stairway.

"Hi." You said quietly when you saw him, too struck by how handsome he looked in that moment to say more.

"Hello."

#castlebangtan #wkcnet #btscreatorscorner #bts #bts fanfic #bts oneshot #bts one shot #bts fluff #bts skier au #bts slope bunny au #bts taehyung #taehyung x reader #bts v x reader #bts x reader #taehyung fluff #thebtswritersclub #btsguild #magicshopnet

[quicksilversquared]

Gabriel and the High Blood Pressure

In which Gabriel has high blood pressure, nothing seems to help, and Nathalie is definitely not paid enough for this.

(AO3) (FF.net)

Yearly doctor's appointments tended to be a mere annoyance to Gabriel Agreste. They were a waste of time, in his opinion, largely because he always came away with a clean bill of health. He could have been spending that time doing almost anything else- designing a new line, going over paperwork for the company, picking out fabrics that might work well for his next collection, finding a new person to akumatize...

But Nathalie and his insurance company both insisted, so he went. Besides, it probably was a good idea. If he were to become seriously ill and not catch it early on, that could mean a huge setback for him because he wouldn't be able to akumatize people so often because he would be forced to undergo observations and attend countless appointments. But he was always healthy, with all of his vital signs well within the normal ranges. He had never had any problems.

So Gabriel was a little taken aback when he spotted his doctor frowning down at his vitals printout. That had never happened before.

"Is your fashion business doing well?" the doctor asked, moving away and sitting down in front of his computer. He started to type something into the computer, occasionally glancing at Gabriel as he did.

"Yes, it's doing quite well," Gabriel responded, shifting in his seat. From this angle, he couldn't see what the doctor was typing and it was making him a bit nervous. He wasn't particularly used to the doctor actually taking notes on him during his appointments. "The latest release went quite well, and we've expanded into having an American location as well."

Dr. Martin glanced over again. "Ah. And I suppose it was a lot of work for you, getting that all ready?"

"Not at all. My assistant took care of most of it for me. She's very organized, and she has helpers under her as well. We've done new locations before, so we know how to do it. It went quite smoothly." Gabriel folded his hands in his lap. He didn't quite understand why the doctor wanted to bother with small talk. None ever had before, though it was probably because Gabriel didn't ever want to waste time like that. "I've managed to assemble quite a good team to take care of things like that so I can focus on the designing."

"I see." The doctor typed something in. "Any new sources of stress since I saw you last?"

Gabriel frowned. The last time he had seen the doctor was about a month after his wife went missing, so that wasn't new. The only big change he could think of was that he had become Hawkmoth. That was certainly a source of stress, with defeat after defeat by the hands of the superheroes.

But he could hardly tell the doctor about that. So he had to lie.

"No, no sources of stress."

Dr. Martin didn't look as though he really believed Gabriel. "Really. Well, I hate to tell you this, but you have extremely high blood pressure, definitely in the hypertension range. Stress would be the most obvious explanation, but if you say that everything is going smoothly..."

"It is."

"Then I can only recommend some blood pressure medication to try to bring that level down," Dr. Martin said, typing something into his computer. "We want to take care of that before it causes any other health problems. I might also recommend a therapist- I see that your, ah, wife is still, ah, missing-" he quailed a little under Gabriel's glare but continued regardless. "If it would help to speak to someone-"

"It would not."

"Then just the blood pressure medication, then. And be sure to get plenty of sleep and water and a balanced diet, of course." He printed out a page, and signed it before handing it to Gabriel. "That's the information on your medication, if you want to look over it. I'll send the prescription to the pharmacy you have listed on your file- any changes to that? No? Great- and you should be able to pick it up later this afternoon. Instructions for how much and when you should take it are on the paper I just gave you as well as on the pill bottle. I'll want you to come in again in a few weeks to see how much of an effect it has. Any questions?"

Gabriel shook his head.

 Nathalie had not been expecting Mr. Agreste to call her from the doctor's office with the request that she pick up medicine that he had been prescribed by the doctor. She was even more surprised to find that it was for lowering blood pressure, though once she really thought about it, it really shouldn't have been that much of a shock. He was watching his akumas be beaten on an almost daily basis, failure after failure for a man who was used to getting his way. That would cause a whole lot of stress, which in turn could cause high blood pressure, and heart problems.

Hopefully the medicine would help, though from what Nathalie knew, it worked better when the source of the stress was also eliminated or at least reduced. That really wasn't looking likely, though- while Mr. Agreste denied it, the young superheroes were getting better and they generally didn't have much trouble defeating the akumas Mr. Agreste- er, Hawkmoth- threw at them. Unless he made some serious steps with creating better, more powerful akuma, he stood no chance of winning.

(She wasn't going to even try telling him that, or even suggesting it. She knew better than that.)

"I'm not too concerned about it," Mr. Agreste told her that night as he swallowed the first pills. "I'll win soon enough, and then this will all clear up. It's just a little stress, no big deal."

But then he didn't win. Despite turning up the frequency of the akumas from a couple times a week to almost daily, Ladybug and Chat Noir took down every single one with something close to ease. Mr. Agreste was almost always frowning now, too wound up to even get much designing done.

Nathalie wasn't particularly surprised when the follow-up appointment showed that Mr. Agreste's blood pressure had inched up more. There were blood test this time, something that he had apparently hotly debated.

"Sir, we need to figure out what's going on before you get any lasting damage to your heart," one of the nurses insisted. "If we can figure out the root of the problem, then we can try to treat that and see if it's any more successful than the blood pressure meds on their own."

"They're getting too nosy," Mr. Agreste grumbled that evening after he had returned home. "Next thing you know, they'll be sending someone home with me to see what I'm doing all day or something."

Nathalie said nothing. She personally was completely on board with the idea of the hospital making Mr. Agreste lay off with the akuma-making for a few days via meddling, mostly because she hated having to deal with rearranged photoshoots and designers late to work because they had been held up by an attack. Of course, being forced to stay away from his ridiculous lair for a few days would either have the effect of him choosing to attack at night, after the assigned nurse had left for the night (rue the thought, really; Nathalie was not in the mood for being woken up in the middle of the night as an akuma plus the two superheroes tumbled by her window again), or they would have someone watching him then, too, and he would just get even more frustrated and stressed by the intrusion.

Mr. Agreste might not be her favorite person ever, but Nathalie didn't particularly want to see him even more stressed, partly because he would probably take it out on her (and somewhat on Adrien as well), and partly because she didn't want to have to deal with the mess that would follow should Mr. Agreste drop dead from a stress-induced heart attack.

So Nathalie decided to act. Of course, since she wasn't a particularly nurturing person, that involved a bit of research first before she started acting.

She trotted down to the chief to deliver a list of foods that Mr. Agreste should and shouldn't have in his meals, decreasing the salty snacks and increasing his fruits and vegetables. She bookmarked a page about exercise desks and contemplated the logistics of trying to get a treadmill into the butterfly lair so that Mr. Agreste could get some exercise while his akumas were out destroying the city. She propped a book about yoga and meditation on Mr. Agreste's desk where he would be sure to see it when he got back from his morning meetings, and then she turned on some doctor-approved calming music to float gently through his office.

Mr. Agreste returned at a quarter past noon, promptly shut off the music, and tossed the book in the trash after only a brief glance at it. Nathalie cringed, but he didn't comment further.

At three, a cup of hibiscus tea- proven to help lower blood pressure, according to Nathalie's Google searches- was delivered for Mr. Agreste. He gave it a scathing look as soon as it hit his desk.

"Nathalie, what is the meaning of this?"

"It's to help with your blood pressure, sir," Nathalie said carefully, glancing over at him. "So that the doctors don't try to come and evaluate you during the day."

Mr. Agreste grumbled something under his breath, downed the tea in one gulp, and headed off to his lair without another word. Thirteen minutes later, Nathalie's phone beeped with an akuma alert and she dropped her head with a sigh.

No one could say she hadn't tried.

 A week after Gabriel's second doctor appointment, he arrived at the house to find his office smelling like a field of lavender. A pile of pamphlets sat on his desk, apparently Nathalie's latest results from her ongoing efforts to find something to reduce his blood pressure. He flipped through them- she was still trying to get him to do yoga, apparently, and waste his money on massages and a treadmill for his lair- and then tossed them all unceremoniously in the recycling bin under his desk before turning his attention to his sketching book. He had been lacking in design inspiration as of late, a fact that was endlessly frustrating to him. He had a new line that was supposed to be going out in another two months, and he could hardly depend entirely on his senior designers to carry the line.

His mind was blanking.

Before he and his wife had gotten so focused on the Miraculous, ideas had flowed out of him like a gushing spring. They had dropped off slightly when they spent nearly all of their time trying to research the whereabouts of the lost temple, and then after they had found it and his wife had gone missing, the stream of ideas had dried out even more. He had recovered a bit for a period following that, when he was using the book they had found as a source of inspiration, but now...

He couldn't think of anything. Stupid, useless brain.

He downed the peppermint tea Nathalie put in front of him an hour into his fruitless sketching session. Two hours in, he was angrily munching on a banana that she had put in front of him. Hour three, it was green tea as he angrily gave up on the sketching (he had wasted ten perfectly good pages with his aimless scribbling, and on top of that one of his good pens was basically destroyed because he had been holding on to it too hard) and headed up to his lair, headache brewing from the ever-present smell of lavender that had filled the office.

(Come to think of it, he had forgotten to ask Nathalie about that. Once he got back, he would have to remember to ask her to have someone come in and air out the room.)

That afternoon's akuma was defeated in practically no time at all, and soon Gabriel was storming back into his office, a vein pulsing in his forehead. He had barely taken a step away from the painting of his wife when he stopped dead.

Now his office smelled overpoweringly like roses. His eye twitched.

"NATHALIE!"

Nathalie promptly appeared in the doorway to his office. She looked somewhat harried. "Yes, Mr. Agreste?"

He gestured angrily to the room at large. "Why, may I ask, does this entire room smell like a teenager's cheap perfume?"

Nathalie gulped. "I...ah..."

He glared.

"I spilled some essential oil!" Nathalie finally blurted out. "It wasn't supposed to be this strong, really. I'm in the process of getting it all cleaned up."

"And why did you have essential oils in the first place?" Gabriel asked dangerously. "I thought that you didn't do things like frivolous perfumes."

Nathalie let out another sigh at that. "...it was something that a website recommended. Lavender and rose are supposed to alleviate stress. It mentioned using a diffuser to dispense the smell so that it wouldn't get overpowering, but I did want to try it sooner rather than later."

"I hate flowery scents," Gabriel informed her stiffly, trying not to breathe too much as he headed for the door. She moved quickly out of his way. "They give me a headache."

"Of course, sir."

"I want this room free of any flowery scents by morning tomorrow."

"Of course, sir."

Grumbling, Gabriel stalked into the main atrium. The scent was much fainter out here, but it was still enough to make his headache twinge. He didn't particularly feel like attempting to do any work in the dining room, where the air would be fresher but still not clear, or in his lair, where there weren't any ridiculous scents but there also wasn't any furniture. He stomped into his bedroom to take a couple pills for his headache, then left again to mill a little aimlessly in the atrium. He wasn't in any state to try to do any more designing for the day- he was too stressed out to make anything, and too unfocused from his headache to get any other work done. He couldn't make another akuma right away, since Nooroo needed recharging, and even if he could he wouldn't want to, since the stress from an incompetent akuma would just make his headache unbearably worse.

He had once had the theory that the additional anger and pain from a headache might combine with the negative vibes in the air to create an even more potent akuma, but he had quickly discovered that no, it just meant that he wasn't focused enough to create an akuma with decent powers and he had to suffer through a completely substandard akuma fight, all while battling a skull-splitting headache.

"Mr. Agreste? Do you have plans for this afternoon?"

Gabriel gritted his teeth and turned to Nathalie slowly. "No, Nathalie, I do not, now that I don't have the use of my office."

Nathalie held out a few papers. "Then I have a few suggestions. It could help with your stress, and maybe bring your focus back..."

And that was how Gabriel Agreste found himself trying to contort himself into a crow pose forty-seven minutes later. He scowled as his arms shook under him when he tried to lift his feet off of the ground. Why Nathalie thought that this would be 'relaxing', he had no idea. He had had to change into an old pair of sweatpants to go to the class, and take off his jacket and tie and shoes, and now his hair was falling out of place in the humidity of the yoga studio. He had managed to score a spot in the very back corner of the room, at least, and the rest of the people in the room weren't paying any attention to him, like they didn't know who he was.

They probably didn't, if the awful outfits that they were dressed in were any indication. It was so terribly unfashionable that it was making his eyes water. Maybe he should make a line of actually decent-looking workout clothes, made to flatter different body types no matter the pose.

Of course, he could hardly do anything about it if people insisted on doing yoga in ancient t-shirts and sweatpants worn thin to the point of being gross and see-through, but at least he wouldn't look stupid if he decided to come torture himself- er, do yoga- again.

Which he wasn't actually going to do, because it was painful and the human body was not meant to contort that way, did Nathalie actually want to kill him she was getting her next holiday bonus slashed for this.

"The doctor I talked to suggested it, sir," Nathalie said as soon as Gabriel got back to the mansion, ruffled and completely disgruntled. She had somehow managed to get rid of the majority of the rose smell in the hour and a half that he had been gone, but it seemed to have been at the price of her composure. Her bun had bits of hair that had fallen out and it looked like she had spilled water on herself at some point. "He said it was relaxing and could help you find focus."

"I think," Gabriel responded a bit tersely, "that perhaps there are different kinds of yoga. That was not relaxing, it was actual hell. The only thing I was focusing on was not dying."

"I'm sorry about that, sir."

Gabriel just scowled.

  Adrien was puzzled when he came home one day and found the entire house smelling like lemon. It wasn't overpowering, like the rose scent earlier in the week had been (he had never learned exactly what had happened there; he had tried asking, but Nathalie had just sent him over to Marinette's home to play Megastrike 3 and stay for dinner, and he had forgotten about it by the time he got back), but it was there enough for him to notice.

"Did the cleaners come through?" he asked Nathalie as she passed by him, heading for his father's office. She paused and looked back at him.

"What?"

"What's with the smell?" Adrien asked again. His gaze dropped to the steaming mug of tea that Nathalie was carrying. Now that he thought about it, he had seen Nathalie with tea more and more often. She never drank tea herself- she much preferred coffee, as did the Gorilla- which meant that the tea had to be for-

"Nathalie? Is my father okay?"

"Yes, yes, of course, why do you ask?"

"You're bringing him tea," Adrien pointed out. This close, he could smell a peppermint smell coming from the cup. "And then- is that what the scented stuff was about? The rose stuff and now the lemon?"

"No, no, not at all!" Nathalie claimed immediately, though her reassuring look seemed a little stretched around the edges. "I was just, ah, trying to make this place a little homier, you know? And he's just trying to find some more inspiration for the next line, and you know how he gets with that. So I was making tea. So he could focus better. And, uh- I need to get this to him before it goes cold, so-"

And Nathalie was gone.

"I didn't think my father normally drank tea," Adrien commented as he headed up to his room. As soon as he stepped inside and closed the door, he let Plagg out. "Maybe it's a new thing, instead of snacking on chips like he normally does."

Plagg let out a noncommittal hum.

"At least tea tends to be healthy, I think," Adrien added, dropping his bag next to his desk and plopping into the chair before digging out his Literature homework. "Unless it has a ton of sugar in it, and Father hates sugary stuff. He says that it's bad for your health." He let out a huff. "But it's so tasty, though. I don't know how anyone could resist anything from Marinette's family's bakery, and there's a lot of stuff in there that's got sugar in it."

Plagg, who had found an abandoned wedge of Camembert, ignored him.

"It's nice that Nathalie is helping him focus, though," Adrien said cheerfully, flipping over to the right page. "And keeping him from binging on salty stuff. Mom always said that it was bad for his blood pressure for him to be doing that all the time when he got frustrated."

Plagg just rolled his eyes.

  Gabriel Agreste was not having a good week. His latest doctor's appointment (he was going to far too many of them nowadays, and it was still a complete waste of his time) had found that his blood pressure had dipped only slightly, even with the medicine and all of Nathalie's efforts to use natural remedies. He had finally had to tell her to knock it off with the suggestions after another well-intentioned yoga session had strained a muscle in his back (requiring icing and a massage session, taking even more time away from his designing and evil villain-ing). He had made her abandon the aromatherapy as well, after he had retreated to his villain lair one afternoon only to find it smelling like lemons and sage.

(Never mind the potential health benefits, the sweet smells just threw off the atmosphere of his lair and he couldn't have that.)

Another spike of stress hit him midweek. One of his potential Ladybug candidates had submitted a video of one of the more recent akuma attacks to the Ladyblog where not only was her voice clearly audible, but she was spotted in the corner of the frame moments after Ladybug swung past the window she was by. There was no possible way that she could have detransformed in that time frame. On top of that, he had gotten a glimpse of her earrings in that brief shot in the video, and they were ridiculous chandelier earrings.

That was the final nail in the coffin for that particular theory. No Miraculous user would take off their Miraculous in the middle of a battle. He sent an akuma after the girl just out of spite, but Chat Noir whisked her out of harm's way before the villain could even threaten her more than a little bit.

It was annoying, really. And with the loss of a perfectly good lead, he spent nearly a day sulking in his lair and chucking wadded-up pieces of paper with abandoned designs and aimless scribbles at the wall. Nathalie was clearly concerned about his sudden downturn in mood, and she spent even more time shoving tea onto his desk. It was annoying, but not that concerning.

Until he found a bowl of sparkly bath bombs on the edge of his bathtub.

"Nathalie, what on earth is this doing in my bathroom?" Mr. Agreste demanded, slamming the bowl down on her desk. One of the bath bombs fell out and rolled across the floor. Nathalie took one glance and visibly slumped in her seat.

"I ran out of ideas, sir."

"...so you thought that glitter bath bombs would help?"

Nathalie twitched, her fingers inching towards her tablet as though she wanted to throw it up in front of her as a shield. "...one site suggested taking relaxing baths. That was the best way I could come up with to suggest it."

Gabriel picked up a bath bomb and inspected it scathingly. "I hate glitter."

"Understood, sir."

"It just makes a giant mess and is impossible to get out of hair."

"Right, sir."

"No more foisting home remedies on me without prior approval first."

"Of course, sir."

  Nathalie was at her wit's end. Mr. Agreste had been putting increasingly more pressure on himself (and on her) as the doctors got increasingly nosy. All of her attempts at reducing his stress and blood pressure levels at home were ending up either absolutely useless or even causing Mr. Agreste even more stress (she hadn't meant to spill the essential oils, or apply them quite so strongly), and his ever-growing string of failures with akumas was making his designing suffer. It was only a matter of time before the public started noticing- or, worse, Adrien noticed.

So she decided that a vacation was in order.

"The owner said the beach house would be available for up to two weeks," Nathalie told Mr. Agreste, holding out her tablet so that he could look at it. "It's by the coast, very nice weather at this time of the year, and secluded, so you wouldn't be bothered by traffic and people bothering you."

Mr. Agreste scowled at her. "Leave? Now? For two weeks? It'll just stress me out more to not even be trying to make any progress with the akumas! If I make them every day, it'll wear out Ladybug and Chat Noir and I'll win!"

Nathalie only sighed. "Sir, with all due respect, you've been trying that for the last several months and Ladybug and Chat Noir have only gotten better. They're in top form and their teamwork is polished. You don't do your best thinking under stress, we know that perfectly well, and I think the repeated losses are just clouding your judgement."

Mr. Agreste glared. Nathalie scrambled to correct herself.

"I mean- you start to scramble for ideas, and then you don't do your most logical thinking," Nathalie explained. "You don't come up with your best ideas under stress. I think it would be good for you to take a break and recalibrate for a bit. You can think up some ideas for powers for akumas while you're away, even. And no offense, sir, but you've been so focused on Ladybug and Chat Noir that your design work is suffering." She sighed. "Please just take, like, twenty steps back and get the spring and summer lines all properly sketched out and cleaned up. I think it'll really help you get back on track, and it should help your blood pressure lower enough to get the doctors off of your back."

Mr. Agreste scowled, then sighed, then scowled some more. Finally he let out a disgruntled grumble.

"Fine. Fine, okay, it's not like I haven't done design retreats in the past. The location sounds decent enough, and I like that it has a cleaner and a chief that comes with it." Mr. Agreste snatched the tablet to look at the page Nathalie had up more closely. "And I suppose a break from akumas wouldn't hurt. You're right, I need a break so I can come up with a list of potential powers for my akuma so they can be super-powerful and finally defeat Ladybug and Chat Noir! Besides, if there aren't any attacks for weeks, they'll be unsuspecting and off of their game when I return and whack them off of their feet."

"Of course, sir," Nathalie agreed automatically. She personally didn't think that the superheroes would let themselves slip too much in the absence of akumas, considering how they already did "patrols" a couple times a week that ended up being more like training sessions. In fact, they would probably be even more on top of their game because they would actually be able to get their schoolwork done and sleep, but she wasn't going to tell him that. That would just be counterproductive. "How soon do you want to be off?"

"Late tomorrow, I think," Mr. Agreste decided, handing the tablet back. "I just need to pack and inform Adrien of my absence, and rearrange a couple meetings- actually, could you do that? Either that or send a reliable intern to take notes for me- and then I can go. I assume I would take a plane?"

"I'll line a flight up, sir, and a driver to pick you up at the airport."

  As soon as she got back to the house, Nathalie all but collapsed into her chair. Thankfully Mr. Agreste hadn't put up any last-minute objections to leaving prior to getting on the plane, but that didn't mean that things had gone as smoothly as anticipated. Mr. Agreste had managed to agree to a low level of correspondence while he was away on his doctor-prescribed vacation (she was not going to type up meeting notes to send to him just so he could further stress himself out when she had everything under control, thank you very much, she already had plenty to do), but he had refused to leave Nooroo behind. Mr. Agreste's plan was apparently to grill Nooroo for more information that he could use against Ladybug and Chat Noir, because apparently he wasn't already doing that on an almost daily basis in Paris.

Nathalie had been rather hoping that Nooroo would get left behind, considering that arguing with an obstinate hostage of a kwami wasn't exactly terribly relaxing, but Gabriel wouldn't budge on the topic. He seemed to think that a small vacation might make the kwami loosen up a bit. Nathalie only hoped that that didn't mean that Gabriel was going to try to give the kwami alcohol, because she got the feeling that that would only end badly.

There was also the small fact that if Nooroo was left behind, the pin would also be left behind and there was no way that Gabriel was leaving his Miraculous unsupervised. Nathalie would have been offended that he didn't trust her to keep it safe (because he would no doubt leave it in his lair, which only she knew how to get into ), but in all honesty he had a point. If he had left Nooroo and the pin behind, she would be sorely tempted to just turn the stupid thing (plus the peacock pin that he thought she didn't know about, plus the book) over to Ladybug and Chat Noir because really, this whole thing- whatever it was that Mr. Agreste was trying to accomplish- was far more trouble than it was worth.

Sighing, Nathalie pushed herself out of her chair and headed out to the rest of the house. Even now that Gabriel was safely strapped into a plane and headed for balmy weather, she had things to do. She had fallen behind on her scheduling for photoshoots while dealing with Gabriel's blood pressure fiasco, and she definitely had to air out the house just a bit more to get rid of the last lingering traces from the aromatherapy.

After all, she had always hated lemons.

#Miraculous Ladybug #My writing #Gabriel Agreste #nathalie sancoeur

[thefakeathlete-blog]

One Month Check-In

I did my first 5k in October of 2018. I walked the entire thing while pushing a baby in a stroller. That’s what that first picture is about. It’s funny to me that less than a year ago I was joking that I couldn’t even run a 5k, and here I am...figuring out how to be prepared for the half. And Taylor’s right, I can do it. Just move my legs. A lot of this journey for me is going to be around mental preparation. But more on that later.

It’s been about a month since I last posted and I have some thoughts I’d like to share. But I also wanted to add some pictures because this process so far has given me the opportunity to really enjoy nature and explore my city (see above post for nature pics).

Love Ya Body, Gurl

I’ve also gotten to work on my body confidence a little, which has been a longstanding goal of mine. I am in a much better place than I was a year ago with loving who I am inside and outside, but there’s always room for improvement.

I’ve always said that I prioritize comfort over everything else when it comes to what I wear, and that’s because I know my confidence will be there if I’m physically comfortable in what I’m wearing. Part of becoming comfortable in what I’m wearing comes down to sizing (obvi), but part of it comes with just wearing it. Just doing it. So I’ve been wearing crop tops and tank tops and other clothes that I used to be really self-conscious about wearing.

I have seen a marked increase in both my body confidence and in my wardrobe. Wanting to expand on this, I’ve started wearing shorts, crop tops, and even just my sports bra more often when working out (see above award-winning selfies -- yes I know my watch data is upside down). The area that I am most self-conscious about is my mid-section. The good ol’ muffin top/love handles/gut/stomach area, whatever you wanna call it. The second area is my chest because, to be frank, I just have big boobs, man. I get a lot of attention that makes me feel bad because guys will say something inappropriate about my chest, or girls will say that I’m showing too much or something, which I really can’t help. Ultimately, that’s a “them issue”, not a “me issue”, but it still makes it hard for me to be confident with how I look. Regardless, my point is that I’ve pushed myself to do things that are going to make me more comfortable with who I am and how I look. And, no surprise, nobody CARES that I have large boobs or that I’m “thicc”, or that I have love handles. Literally everybody just lives their lives. And even if they are judging me, nobody’s saying anything. So what does it matter?

Anyway, those are my thoughts on that topic.

Facts (#RealNews)

Here are the facts without my two cents.

I’m at the end of Week 4 of my training plan.

I still use Nike Run Club, but I haven’t tried the guided runs yet.

I am struggling with the mental aspect.

I am feeling less pain while I run.

I need to drink more water.

Gotta Getcha Head in the Game

While I feel my physical stamina and endurance is improving, especially since I’m early in the plan and it’s fairly manageable for any given person to do my current running workouts, my mental game is #lacking.

I force myself to run outside because treadmill running is the actual bane of my existence. I get bored and frustrated because time just c r a w l s by. So, I run outside! I used to run to music from my carefully curated (read: hype songs only) running playlist. But I found myself getting bored with music too. So I’ve started listening to podcasts while running. This helps the time go by faster. And yet, I still find myself checking my watch too much. “It HAS to be time for me to switch to walking, it’s been forever” is a common thought. Even though I KNOW I can run for like 45 minutes without stopping, because I’ve done it, 3 minutes seems impossible. And I KNOW it’s a mental thing.

So if anyone has any tips on how to get my mental game right, please send them my way. FR.

Also, pro-tip, 0/10 do NOT recommend listening to serial killer podcasts while you’re running unless you want to be paranoid the entire time.

Continuing down that topic path, I desperately need pod recs because the only one that consistently holds my interest right now is Crimes of Passion and Serial Killers from the Parcast Network, which aren’t going to work for the aforementioned reason. My boyfriend’s pod was working, but it was discontinued and only like 3 eps are available so that’s not gonna’ work for me.

So What’s Next?

I have to stick with the plan. It’s set up that way for a reason.

I’d like to find better podcasts. To all the podheads out there: PLEASE SEND POD RECS. Whether it’s comedy, motivational, stories, educational...I want them all!

I need to get my head right. Mental game is so important and that’s literally half the reason I signed up for this half marathon. Who has running/fitness/other mental tips that help them get in the zone? What gives you the self-confidence to keep at it and know you can make it? How do you overcome hurdles big and small?

#fit #fitspo #runway #new runner #atx #den #texas #journey #growth #progress #half marathon training #half marathon #race #train #training

[pamphletstoinspire]

THE BEST PLACE TO PRAY

When you pray, go to your inner room, close the door, and pray to your Father in secret. And your Father who sees in secret will repay you. (Matthew 6:6)

The obvious answer to the question is, anywhere and everywhere, “walking in public or strolling alone... seated in your shop...while buying or selling...or even while cooking” (St. John Chrysostom). There are no limits.

When I was teaching high school, I used to work out at a local fitness center that many of the students used. They would see me running on the treadmill at night, praying my rosary. Often students asked me, “Does praying on the treadmill count?”

I think there is a special place in purgatory for the person that originated the notion that some places count more than others do. Did this individual ever consider what this implies about the God who longs for us? Imagine God saying, “I’m not listening, Gary, because you are on the treadmill.” That is certainly not the God of Jesus Christ. The Father always hears us, whenever and wherever we cry out to him.

THE PERFECT PRAYER SPACE IS WHERE YOU MAKE IT

Just to be clear, one of my favorite places in the world to pray is the Blessed Sacrament Chapel in St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome (I prefer sitting in the left-hand corner if you’re facing the tabernacle). The trouble is, I do not live in Rome, and I am rarely there. When Jesus tells his followers to go their rooms to pray, he is speaking about our capacity for interiority. He is not referencing a specific location. While designated places of prayer are invaluable, not everyone has regular access to them. What each of us can do, however, is fashion a prayer space of our own. Many martyrs of the Church turned their prison cells into great oratories where they poured out their souls to Christ. Many horrific, inhuman spaces have been consecrated by the women and men that used them as a place to commune with God. I think of Maximilian Kolbe singing God’s praises in solitary confinement while dying. I also think about all the lives saved because faithful members of Christ’s body prayed outside or across the street from abortion clinics.

It would be great if every day when we go off by ourselves to pray we could do that in a chapel where the Blessed Sacrament is reserved. This is unrealistic, and not even what the Church commands. For this reason, when we do have occasion to be alone with God in the presence of his Eucharistic Son, we should be grateful. Nevertheless, most of us will spend the majority of our alone time in our homes (or perhaps for commuters, in our cars, on public transportation, or walking). It is important that the space we use, like the time we spend, be the same. Our familiarity with designating a particular space for prayer will help move us into meditative, reflective conversation.

I have set aside a corner of my bedroom. I use the chair I sit in to pray only for that purpose. I place nothing on it, nor do I sit in it to tie my shoes or talk on the phone. I use it only for prayer, and the little stand that is next to it holds only my prayer book (and a statue of the Little Flower and a picture of Mother Teresa and a chaplet to the Blood of Christ). When I enter into this precious little space, I know I am doing so to be in the presence of God.

The choice of location is extremely important. Ideally, the chosen place should not be the center of commotion and activity. A quiet place that is comfortable, soothing, and familiar lends itself to what we are about, namely a retreat into the interiority of our hearts. We should be physically comfortable and as free from all external distractions as possible. A cramped awkward space next to noisy appliances, loud neighbors, and other intrusive noise is not necessarily helpful, especially when starting out. If you chose to make a prayer space outside, on a stoop, a patio, or a balcony, keep in mind the same parameters.

Should you choose a space favorited by your dog or cat, they need to learn you are not there to give them attention. They will learn over time and will even pray themselves. I had a cat that would join me each morning in the chapel in the house I lived in at the time. She would come in and sit calmly next to me the entire time I was at prayer. I know she was blessing the Lord just as dolphins and all water creatures do. My iguanas, snake, and parrots, on the other hand, never blessed the Lord in the chapel. Where I live now, a beaver that lives on the river where I fly-fish likes to sit next to me while I say Morning Prayer. As the sun crests over the mountains, we sit side by side (about fifteen yards apart) and together bless the Lord. That beaver is extremely devout.

MAKING YOUR SPACE WORK FOR YOU

Wherever I have lived, I have created a place that I use only for conversation with the Lord. I have found this to lend itself well to the task. I know this may appear to be difficult for those with young children at home, so a little creativity may be helpful. Tell your children what you are doing and why. This can be a great teaching tool. For those that are married, work together on identifying the right space.

If in identifying a regular time you decide that the commute to work offers the best opportunity, then make certain your car is properly equipped (e.g., a clean interior). What also may be helpful is a holy card afixed to the dash, a rosary hanging from the rearview mirror (if legal), and a bottle of holy water that can be used to bless the interior before you begin your drive. The Missionaries of Charity always pray when driving from point A to point B, even if only driving a block. I rarely have passengers in my car and am not in the habit of listening to the radio, so I constantly talk to the Lord while driving. You will be surprised at how quickly you will look forward to and become accustomed to the drive because it means you are alone with the Lord.

In truth, we can consecrate any space to the Lord, but we should give special attention to ensure that our prayer is not competing with whatever else may regularly be going on in the space (for instance, the bathroom). For many, the bathroom may be the only place to grab a quick few moments alone, which is fine, but it should not become the go-to place for substantive time with the Lord. This is not to suggest that the demands of the body are bad (the Jewish people have a prayer that is said after having attended to the needs of the body); it is simply that everything about the space can be an obvious hurdle to overcome. I pray in my bathroom every morning. While I shower, I renew my baptismal promises as the water falls over me. It proves to be a concrete way of reminding myself that I do reject Satan, his works and empty promises. I also affirm what I believe because of the person I have become.

Insofar as we all experience many natural distractions, it is important that the place we choose in being alone with God does not have too many built-in or customary distractions. Having said this, if you find that the only place in your home available to steal away and be with God is the bathroom (the tub, shower, etc.), then have at it. Be sure, however, to do something similar to what I mentioned about the car. Sprinkle some holy water and physically make the room a place for prayer. Do not simply do this in your mind. It must be a physical, overt act.

Written by: Fr. Gary Caster

#the best place to pray