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forcefulkitten · 3 years

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more than enough

[phinks magcub x fem! reader]

summary: Phinks visits you at your place of work and provides more than the favor you’ve asked of him.

warnings: 18+, nsfw, rough sex, office sex

word count: 2,444

Today is not your day. Everything that can go wrong is doing exactly that. You woke up extremely tired, makeup and hair didn’t come out to your liking and you’re swamped with projects to complete at work. Sanity held on a thin string, you nearly burst a blood vessel when your boss asks you, more like tells you, to stay in for your lunch break and prepare a presentation for an unexpected meeting that was just squeezed into schedule.

Furiously grabbing your phone, you send a text over to Phinks. “Phinksy can you please bring me lunch today? Stuck in the office prepping for a meeting.” Turning your attention to the work you have to get done, a few minutes later you’re interrupted by your phone ringing. Phinks on the line, you pinched the bridge of your nose and let out a sigh, preparing yourself to hear an earful. “Babe? What the fuck is going on?” He questioned, frustration evident in his tone. “Boss came in and told me to skip my break because something came up last minute. Please just bring me anything to eat Phinks, I’m having a shit day already as is.” You hear Phinks exhale through the phone before grumbling, “Who the hell do those bastards think they are? I told you to quit that job, it’s not like we need the money anyways. Pfft, whatever, I’ll see you soon.” He ends the call and you're happy to have one thing go your way today, not that you're surprised since it's Phinks who you're asking for help. He’d always complain and make sly remarks about anything you ask, but never tells you no. It became clear over time thats just how he expresses himself. Phinks loves to be your lifeline, the one you turn to when you’re in a bind. You appreciate everything he does, making sure to never take advantage of his kindness.

Concentrating on your work, your focus is completing tasks for the meeting to go smoothly. All of your other projects with upcoming deadlines would have to wait for now. If you attend to everything at once, things won’t get done properly and you’re not a half-ass worker. The presentation for the meeting is coming together sooner than you thought and you start to feel like the rest of the day would take a turn for the best once you add finishing touches.

Your office line rings and you pick up, greeted by the lobby receptionist. “Hello, a blonde-haired gentleman who referred to himself as your boyfriend is making his way up to see you. I tried asking for his name but he stormed off. Please let me know if you’d like for security to intercept.” You apologize for his behavior, cursing yourself for not meeting him downstairs since you know he doesn't give his name out. You stand up and straighten out your clothes, ruffling your hair in an attempt to make yourself look more presentable. His timing is impeccable, arriving right after your coworkers leave for their lunch break.

Phinks knocks before entering, closing the glass door behind him and locking it, which makes the glass turn from clear to frosted, granting you two privacy. Placing your food on a side table, he walks over to you, wrapping his arms around you to bring you into a hug. You wrap your arms around his torso and nuzzle your face into his chest. His hugs are warm, always effective in making you melt into his touch. Looking up into his eyes, you give him a small smile. “Thank you Phinksy. I can always count on you.” Phinks kisses you, resting one hand on your neck and the other on the small of your back to press you closer to him. Biting down on your lip, he slips his tongue into your mouth and the two of you engage in a steamy make out session. Phinks’ hands are roaming your body, squeezing your ass, palming your breast and before long you feel his erection against your stomach. You know you shouldn’t let this escalate any further but Phinks has a way of always getting what he wants. He’s charming and has an aura to him that makes you feel like whatever happens, you’ll be protected because he’s there. All common sense out of the window, you refuse to let the opportunity for him to fuck you in your office slip away.

Phinks leans down, picking you up with his arms hooked under your thighs and places you on your desk. Skirt hiked up with your lacy thong in plain sight, Phinks unbuttons your blouse and takes in how stunning you look. You’re embarrassed given the circumstances and he’s staring at you the same way a predator looks at their prey. He moves closer and goes straight to licking and sucking your neck, one of his hands keeping you in place with a firm grip. The feeling of his tongue abusing your jugular is exciting, making your breath heavy and heat build in your core. Your mind is clouded with arousal and you can’t hide the moans that convince Phinks that you wouldn’t protest to him taking you right here.

He brings his fingers to your cunt, pushing your thong to the side before delving two of his thick fingers into you. He lets out a grunt of approval when his digits slip right in. “Damn babe. You want me to fuck you here? At work? How very unprofessional of you.” His tone is full of lust and still teasing you at the same time. Hooking your fingers in the band of his track pants, you pull him closer and pull them down slightly along with his boxers. His throbbing member springs out, hitting his lower stomach and you eagerly stroke him. Phinks enjoys this momentarily before sliding his boxers and track pants down to his ankles, unzipping his sweater to toss aside and turning his gaze back to you. Generally, he would allow you to take your time with him but there’s none to spare right now. Squeezing your tender breasts, you lean back as he brings his mouth to suck on your pert nipples. Mouth switching between either one, the sensation is going straight to your sex and you whine, ”I don’t have much time.” Smirking against your chest, he releases your nipple with a wet popping sound.

Phinks pulls you by your hips towards the edge of your desk and your legs are spread open, pussy glistening, inviting him to wreck you. Slipping your thong off and meticulously setting it aside, Phinks lines himself up with your entrance. Coating his tip in your essence, he swipes over your clit a few times before sheathing himself all the way into your tight walls, making you gasp at the sudden stretch. He begins thrusting into you harshly, feeling your cunt greedily suck him back in whenever he inches out of you. The office is quiet except the sounds of skin slapping, his grunts and your moans. You pray to whatever gods that you’re the only person who stood behind during lunch or you wouldn’t be able to look your coworkers in the eye after this. His onslaught has too much force behind it, it’s too quick, too deep and you’re trying your best to stifle the obnoxious wails leaving your mouth. Pleading eyes lock with his, “You’re. Going to. Break me. Slow. Down. P-please.” While crying out, your words are met with hard thrusts and to quiet you down he covers your mouth with his hand. Phinks attempts to slow his pace but it quickly picks back up again and much to your dismay, its even worse than before. The sound of your desk shifting against the floor is deafening when it mixes amongst the rest of the noises filling the room. Your arms wrap around him and dig crescents into his muscular shoulders, making him hiss at the sharp pressure. He knows he isn’t going easy on you but he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t appealing to see you willingly come undone right here. He leans his forehead onto yours, staring straight into your soul while ravishing you like this would be the last time he’d ever see you. The fingers of one of his hands squeeze your hip so tight that you’ll undoubtedly feel it for the next few days. He releases his hold over your mouth when he realizes that drool is beginning to coat his palm, allowing you to take a much needed breath of air into your lungs. Suddenly Phinks pulls out, chest rising and falling while he stares at you with hunger in his eyes. The way you look all fucked out in front of him is captivating. He thinks that maybe this job isn’t so bad after all but who is he kidding? He still wants you to quit but seeing your wet folds perched on your desk is enough to stop him from mentioning the topic for some time. Maybe he’d even offer to bring you lunch more often, especially if it meant that you’d end up like this.

Lifting you up as if your weight was that of a feather, a shiver courses through you when your back is pressed against the cold glass that surrounds your office. “It’s not everyday that I get to fuck you at work. Maybe I’ll go thank that boss of yours after this.” Phinks’ arms hold you up by grasping onto your ass, carefully lining you up with his shaft before slamming you down fully. With your legs wrapped around him, the new angle is delicious. You can feel every ridge on his cock and his tip drums against your cervix with every bounce. The way he slides in and out of you with ease and the sensation of his balls slapping against your ass when his hips meet yours has the pit of your stomach in tangles. Your moans are drawn out and Phinks smiles at you when he hears the squelching noises coming from your soaked pussy. Arms that were clinging onto him with all of your strength give out, leaving you to lean your upper back and head against the wall with your arms falling to your sides. Phinks doesn’t struggle to continue holding you up but now his hips are grinding into your heat instead of bobbing you up and down. The added friction from his pelvis brushing against your clit is bringing you closer to your climax. Phinks tugs one of your arms up to his shoulder, guiding you to hold onto him once more. Desperate to quiet your wanton moans, he brings his lips to yours, swallowing your sounds before aggressively exploring your mouth. The coil in your gut snaps soon after, white hot pleasure taking over your vision. The build up made your orgasm hit you all at once and you ride out your high, bucking your hips to take more of Phinks if at all possible. Forgetting about the shitty day you were having before this, you’re so thankful that you have someone as reliable as him in your life.

“You’re so tight woman, I can’t get enough of this.” Phinks sounds frustrated at himself, the motion of his thrusts are becoming erratic and you know he’s close to his end. His stamina is off the charts, normally lasting way longer than this. The chance of being caught is thrilling, and that alone has him tuckered out already. He leans his chest into you as close as he can, pressing your body into the glass as he bucks into you. You’re folded like a pretzel, whimpering and moaning all while being worried that the glass might break. The way your pussy is still clenching around him from your orgasm and the sheer amount of slick between you coating his cock is sending him over the edge. Phinks untangles your legs from around his waist and brings them to hook over his shoulders. One hand holding you by the cuff of your ass and the other on your waist over your bunched skirt, he slowly sinks you down onto him. You brace your arms on his forearms since he has complete control in this position, your back no longer being supported by the glass wall. Phinks shifts you up and down as slowly as he could while rolling his hips into you when he’s fully buried inside. His eyes are glued on your form. The way your breast bounce is mesmerizing. How you fit perfectly around his length. The way your eyes look into his with so much reliance. Your lips ajar from the heaves leaving your chest. You’re shocked and amused at how much restraint he’s showing right now while trying to live in this moment for as long as he can. “Baby, just cum already.” You whisper between breaths. Phinks lets out a guttural moan before shooting ropes of his seed that fill you to the brim. He adores your dedication to squeezing him dry while you move your hips to greedily milk all he has.

Phinks sets you down and your legs feel like spaghetti while you try to balance yourself. You adjust your breast back into your bra and button up your blouse. After pulling your skirt back down into place, you fix the wrinkles in the fabric with your hands. When you turn around to him, he’s already slipped his boxers and track pants up and has his sweater on as well. How the hell isn’t there a single hair out of place on his head? You’re envious of how he looks so collected compared to you. He walks over to you, thong in hand and bends down for you to slip your feet through it. His fingers skim up your thighs towards your sex and he pushes his cum back in that was threatening to dribble out. Once he’s made sure none is going to waste, he pulls your thong up and then instructs you to spin around slowly so he can examine if your outfit is all in place. Phinks brings you into a passionate kiss and also takes the time to mess with your hair to help you look like you working instead of being fucked. “Do you need anything else? Food might be cold now. Sorry.” He has a sheepish grin on his face while scratching the back of his head. “Nope. You’ve done more than enough. Come pick me up later?” You rub your hands up and down his arms, a blush on your face. “Sure, good luck dealing with those corporate idiots.”

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a-really-bi-girl · 5 years

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Edelweiss- Chapter 1

The route to Tirol

Chapter 1 - The route to Tirol

Not long ago you laughed, heck you smiled like all the damn time. But now you couldn’t even think of the thought of smiling. Or the pain in your cheeks that was caused by laughing too hard with your friends. The only pain you felt right now was the pain in your head, heart and stomach.

Your head was trying to process everything that was happening. But now you’re were an emotional mess. You were Scared. Confused. Insecure. Upset. Anxious. Wobbly. You felt your heartbeat and the send out of pulses in your brain and it hurts. Every time a pulse was sent out and every time your heartbeat it got worse and worse.

In your heart, you felt the pain of guilt. Your eyes fell on the ground in front of you and all you saw were scattered bodies of people laying on the floor. Some people were unconscious and some were severely injured. And some have passed away, way before there time. It hurts so much to know that your heart is still beating and there’s are not. You should have been the one who died, not them. The pain of guilt felt to you like you have been stabbed and you knew how that felt.

Because there was a 14-inch-long sword thrust inside the left side of your stomach. Your vision went out of focus and your head became heavy. You exhaled your breath as you fell on your knees. As fell your knees hit the grass, your hands wrapped itself around the blade. To your surprise, there wasn’t that much blood, but that quickly changed when you felt a hand on your right shoulder.

The hand dug her nails through your shirt into your skin as his other hand appeared. She said something to you in a language that you didn’t understand as her free hand wrapped itself around the handle of the sword. When you found the courage and the energy to look up your eyes locked with the woman. She wore a mask and she smiled. Your eyes were heavy and it was hard to keep them open. Your vision was blurry and your eyes were wet from your tears.

The woman wrapped her hand around your neck and squeezed. It became hard to breathe and It caused your body to squirm. Your hands flew up to her forearm and hand as you desperately tried to remove her hand from your neck. The woman smiled again and with a smooth motion, she pulled her sword out of your torso. Her action made you gasp for air, which you couldn’t inhale because of her hand.

She tightened her grip around your neck as you held her forearm with your bloody hands. She lowered her head and whispered into your ear. The way she spoke languish gave you the chills, which made you squirm again. Then she let go of your neck and you gasped for air.

Almost all your energy has left your body at this point and you fell towards the ground. Your head hit the ground hard and you tried to suppress the tears you wanted to let out. Your hands applied pressure to the wound the woman left. The woman looked at you as she cleaned her sword. You blinked and she was gone once you opened your eyes again.

Instead, there were two-men where she first stood. The men walked over to your body and you tried to crawl away. The men laughed at each other and they grabbed your legs and your arms. This made you yell in pain, your wound started bleeding out again and you felt your body growing weaker.

The men lifted you off the ground and they dragged/carried you towards the alter. You struggled in their grip as you saw people placing the bodies of the deceased around the alter. You couldn’t breathe when they the cut their throats pour their blood in the notch around the alter.

The ones who are on the edge of dying were killed in front of you and you cried out for help. The man who carried you to the altar chained you to the ground as you struggled and screamed.

‘So, this is it. This is the moment I die’ you taught to yourself.

11 days ago, America, Arizona.

The warm summer sun was setting in Arizona. And two men were walking away from a burning building towards a parked yellow cab.

The brunette of the duo was dressed in blue denim jeans, a dark green bomber jacket, a white shirt and muddy timberlands. He was the tallest of the two.

And the blonde, he looked like he stepped out of a detective movie. He wore a white button-up shirt with a loosely hanging red tie around his neck. The sleeves were pushed up and he carried a tan trench coat in his hand. His pants were black just like his shoes.

“Why does everything always have to end up in flames with you?” does brunette asked the blonde as he opens the door.

The blonde laughs at him as he enters the car. “not always Chas. Your house is still standing, isn’t it” The blonde points out while lighting a cigarette.

Chas rolled his eyes as starts the engine of the car. “Where to next John?” he asked his friend.” It would be perfect if you could drop me off at the millhouse, I could use a good kip” John answered as he opened the window.

“Alright, but I have to fill the tank first,” Chas said as he entered the highway. At the same moment the duo entered the highway four Police cars exited, heading towards the fire.

The men drove in silence while John smoked his cigarette. After awhile Chas pulled over towards a gas station to refile his tank. “Can I bring you anything?”

“Just a new pack of silver cuts, owh and make it a big one,” John said while handing Chas a twenty.

Chas took the twenty and walked towards the store after he filled the tank. John threw his head back against the chair and he let out a sight. His mind dwelled back to the scene he and Chas just experienced.

The warehouse they just blew up was owned by Rangda, an evil demon queen in Balinese mythology. A disgusting child-eating bitch. She was pretending to be a school teacher so she had many victims to choose from.

When John sensed her presence in the town he quickly tracked her down. He and Chas saved the trapped kids and afterwards turned John his attention to Rangda.

“Your child-eating days here on earth are over, Let's get you back to were you belong shall we” John spoke while getting in position to send the nasty bitch back to where she came from.

Rangda protested and screamed as John sent her through a portal. It wasn’t easy, but luckily she wasn’t at her full strength otherwise it would have harder to send her to hell.

Hell

The place where John is doomed to end up.

The place where the tribunal will be waiting for him, so they can finish what they started.

The place where Astra ended up after he tried to save her back in Newcastle.

The place where he sent Dez too.

When he saved the man he loved, he didn’t get him back. Dez left as soon as he could.

And in John’s eyes, it was yet another sign that he was not worthy of love, friendship or thrust.

Everyone he ever loved or even people who came to close to him ended up dead, hurt or never wanting to see him again. He only has Chas.

Chas entered the car again with a newspaper and John’s cigarettes. “When we get to the Millhouse I need you to pack a bag. I will pick you up around 4am.”

“Why?”

“We are going to Austria,” Chas said while he threw the newspaper and John’s phone at him.

-----The Daily Planet------

Multiple Families are missing in the Tirol area, Austria

Multiple Families are missing in the Tirol.Area. In the summer is Tirol a popular place to hike and to wander in the nearby mountains. In the winter it’s a popular skiing spot. But now it’s the place were multiple Families are disappearing. Multiple police forces are arriving and working together to find out what is going on in this area. There is further given information about what could be going on.

----------------------------------------------------------

“Your Phone rang, the Austria police force needs your help. They told me that they were given your phone number by Sara Lance. She said that they had to call you if something freaky is happening.” Chas told his best friend as he entered the highway again.

“Freaky ey?” John said while throwing the newspaper on the backseat. ‘Sara has to stop with handing out my number' John thinks to himself.

The rest of the car ride was silent. John was thinking about what possibly could have happened while Chas drove. When they arrived at the millhouse John opened his mouth “Meet me around three, we need to do some research before we leave.” He said whilst exiting the car. Chas nodded and drove away.

"Let's get to the bottom of this" John said while lighting a cigarette as he entered the millhouse. Ready to pack for this next mission.

MEANWHILE IN AUSTRIA

The overflowing car of the Jones family was driving up the small mountain roads. The car was packed with people. Jane and Carlos were discussing in the front about how we had to get towards the hotel. “Carlos just listen to me, if we follow this road we will be there in 30 minutes” Jane spoke while pointing at a route on the map. “Alright, what you want” he said while changing the course.

“Mom it there a pool!?” “Dad is there a playground!?” asked the twins at the same time. They start laughing and kept asking there parents questions about the hotel. Tara and Tim were your best friends younger siblings. They were eight years old, the same age you met Alex.

You and Alex were all the way in the back of the car. Both doing your own thing. You listening to some old music while he is busy texting his ex. His relationship with his ex Jeffrey was complicated, but over. But Jeffrey wouldn’t let him go so easy.

“u okay?” you asked while tapping him on the shoulder. He replied with a thumbs up. “We are going to have an amazing week,” You say smiling trying to make him laugh. And that he did. “Heck yeah, I already found an après ski fest,” he said smiling as he showed you the poster of the party. “Nice, but we’re going in Tiroler clothing!” you say laughing. “Aber natürlich Gretel”

“du bist die Hänsel to my Gretel” I replied laughing and Alex joined me.

“Mom we also want to go to that party,” said Tara and Jane replied. “No one is going anywhere without out approval”

“Mom you promised !” Alex said while looking at her. “Alex people are disappearing, I don’t want that to happen to you,” Jane said sweetly.

“Mom, you told me I could bring Aila so I would have someone to hang with and now we can’t even go to a party. Were 19 mom not 8” Alex spoke irritated.

Aila, that was the name you used, but it wasn’t your real name. Only Alex and your family knew your real name and also the reason you didn’t use it.

“Hey, I know we’re eight but wee can totally party!” Tim shouted while dancing in his chair. “I totally understand Miss Jones.“ you say while sending a chat towards Alex and throwing him a wink. “We wouldn’t want anyone to go missing.” “Thank you, Aila,” said Jane while looking at you through the centre mirror of the car.

Alex played along when he saw the Rapunzel gif you send him. “I am sorry mom, I should have been more rational. “ he said while trying to hide his smirk. The gif you had sent him was one where she escaped her tower. The two of you threw each other a smirk before you heard Carlos speaking.

“We are here!”

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lostinfic · 5 years

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2. Indonesia, summer (cont’d)

Summary: She writes for magazines about luxurious resorts in exotic places and five-star hotels in glamorous cities. He’s photographed devastated war zones, refugee camps and child soldiers. For both of them travel is an escape, but he’s had enough of this grim reality, and she’s had enough of this disconnected fantasy. Perhaps together they can find something in between, something real, and stop running from themselves. Each season, a new destination and a chance to grow closer.

Pairing: Alec Hardy x Hannah Baxter Rating: Mature~ish (for now) Word count: 2.6k

Prologue | Chap. 1 | Ao3

The sun had sunk halfway down the Indian ocean. On the beach, the hotel staff were retrieving lounge chairs and parasols for the night. Only a few couples lingered on the shore. The distant echo of conversation and clanking dishes came from the terraces of the hotel’s restaurants.

Sun-heated sand slipped into Hannah’s sandals and splashed against her calves. She removed her shoes and walked in shallow water instead.

Hardy walked fast, ahead of her, as if ashamed to be seen with her, but he still sporadically checked on her over his shoulder. “Watch out, there’s a crab.”

They didn’t exchange more than a few words. She didn’t peg him as the small talk kind anyway, so she didn’t make an effort. He scanned the beach, eyes narrowed, serious dimples in his cheeks. He kept his hands poised on the camera hanging around his neck. This was no romantic stroll. They were colleagues, out on the prowl, chasing a scoop— and she loved it.

They were looking for that bunker-like structure Hannah had seen in the background of her selfie, from the sailboat excursion. Despite declaring she could guide him there, she had only a vague idea of where it might be located. Hardy had a real, old-school compass to guide them westward, but darkness would make it harder to find.

The main structure of the resort faded into impressionist patches of light. They still passed by smaller buildings— private villas, storage, kayak rental kiosk— but they were fewer and farther in between.

“I think it’s on the other side of that,” Hannah said. She pointed at a rock formation ahead. It was much taller than a human, came form inland and dipped into the sea, essentially blocking the whole width of the beach. She was no geologist, but it looked like volcanic rock to her, like fat rolls of lava descended from the center of the island. At low tide, barnacles and sea grapes clung to its side. A line of orange buoys extended from it, far into the sea to mark out the end of the resort’s beach.

By the time they reached the rock, only the full moon illuminated their path. Hardy shined a tiny LED flashlight over its surface.

Hannah thought she could skirt around it in the water and cross over the buoys. Hardy wasn’t too keen on trudging through water and opted to hike over the rock instead. Hannah walked farther into the sea. It was deeper than she’d anticipated. She was in up to mid-thighs before even reaching the buoys. She retreated and climbed behind Hardy. Her sandals slid over the slimy rock. He offered his hand. She held on to it tightly as he hauled her up on top of the rock formation.

“Wow!”

In the bay, on the other side, the shore sparkled with thousands of tiny electric-blue dots, like something out of a science-fiction movie. The ebb and flow of the water stirred and alighted them. Everything else around was dark.

Hannah grinned, in all her trips, she’d never seen anything like it.

“It’s gorgeous.”

“Bioluminescent plankton,” Hardy supplied.

They climbed down the other side, his hand at her elbow in case she slipped.

“D’you think I can touch it?”

He shrugged. “It’s always in the water, you just don’t usually see it.”

She kicked off her sandals once more and tiptoed into the sea. She giggled like a child, each step generated more blue dots.

“It lights up when it’s agitated,” Hardy explained. “There must be some strong current around here.”

Hannah kicked the water, propelling a luminous arc of plankton in the air. She heard the camera shutter, and glanced at Hardy over her shoulder.

“Perv,” she joked.

He chuckled, and she wished she could see his smile.

“Why is it only on this side—eeww!”

Something slimy covered her ankle. Panicked, she kicked it off but lost balance. Hardy caught her in the nick of time. She grasped his shoulders until she was steady again, and then they hopped out of the water.

“Thanks,” she said out of breath, heart still hammering. His arms remained around her. “Christ, what was that?”

Hardy shone his torchlight on the water. There was a squid, dead, decomposing even. The flashlight revealed more dead fish floating on the surface. Hannah shivered with disgust and hid her face against Hardy’s shoulder.

“We must be close to something,” he said. “Bioluminescence can indicate harmful algae in the water.”

“You could have said before.”

“You alright?” He aimed the light at her legs.

“I’m fine.”

Truth be told, all she wanted now was to go back to her room and take a shower. But, remembering Duncan’s grating “stick to what you’re good at” comment, she persevered. A sigh puffed up her cheeks, and she took off after Hardy.

“Did you come here specifically to investigate?” she asked him.

“Aye. A former colleague called me. You?”

“I’m working but I wasn’t sent here for this. I’m writing a piece on the resort for Elite Travelers.”

He stopped dead in his tracks. “Thought you said you’re a journalist.”

“I am a journalist.”

He scoffed. “That’s a liberal use of the word.”

Hannah gaped in outrage. How dare he? Before she could reply, he started walking again, faster.

“And who do you work for?”

“Depends.”

“Don’t give out everything, it’s embarrassing,” she said sarcastically.

“This is freelance work.”

“But who have you worked for before? Name one if you’re so much better than me.”

“The Broadchurch Echo… The New York Times.”

“Alright, well, it doesn’t matter, I want to expose this sham as much as you.”

“No.” He stopped walking, and she nearly bumped into him. “This is my job, my life, you’re just—“

“My readers will care.”

“Your readers?” he all but squeaked. “They’re the problem.”

“I’m trying to learn here, okay?”

“You gotta do more than that.”

“I just— Urgh! I don’t want to get too involved, people start expecting things from you and I can’t— I can’t do that.”

They started walking again. She thought he’d dropped the subject, but ten minutes later, he asked: “Who pays for your stay here? And the article you’re writing. Who’s paying you?”

“What? The magazine, of course.”

“Right, who’s paying them?”

“Do I really need to explain this to you? Subscriptions, advertisement…”

“The owners of the resort? The local government?”

“No, it’s not like that,” she replied.

“How can you be sure, uh? This, your magazine, your article, it’s nothing more than propaganda.”

God, that man was infuriating. But he had sowed doubt in her mind. Was that why Duncan didn’t want her to cover ecotourism? What if she was just a tool?

She breathed audibly out of her nose and stalked past Hardy. “I’m gonna find that bloody bunker,” she muttered.

Not long after, they saw the bunker-like building in the distance, inland. An industrial spotlight hung above its metal door. It cast an artificial white light over its surroundings. Flies and moths buzzed around it. There was one security camera too, and they tried to stay out of its scope.

“Out-bloody-standing,” Hardy whispered. He clapped her too hard on the shoulder. “You found it.” He raised his camera and took several pictures.

It was still almost ten feet away and then bushes blocked the path. As they approached, a sound of water, distinct from the waves, grew louder. There was some kind of river behind the vegetation. She rose on her tiptoes, to look over the narrow hedge. She couldn’t quite see the river and she realized this was because it was at the bottom of a ravine. The water was maybe twelve feet below, between steep walls of rock and soil. It created a natural moat around the building. There seemed to be no way around it, and the rest of the building was protected by an electric fence.

“What now? We can’t get any closer,” she said.

“Yes, we can.”

She watched, aghast, as he waded through the bushes to the ravine. What was he doing? It was too wide to jump over. He crouched on the edge. His foot slipped and rocks tumbled below with a delayed echo.

“You’re not thinking of climbing down, are you?” He didn’t answer. “Hardy?”

Hannah cursed under her breath and trudged through the thorny bushes. She shivered at the thought of all the creepy crawlies in there. When she joined him, he was testing the strength of a branch to rappel down the ravine.

“You’ll kill yourself,” she said.

“If that’s what it takes.”

They stared at each other, his eyes defiant. The color drain from her face.

“What?”

“Maybe if a white man dies people will finally care about what’s happening here.”

She rolled her eyes and grabbed his arm. “Oh no, you’re not doing this to me.” Hardy was in a too precarious position to resist her tug, but Hannah expected him to fight back. So she pulled with all her strength and weight, and they stumbled backwards. Her foot caught in a root. They fell to the ground, Hardy landed on top of her. His camera knocked her on the jaw.

“OW!”

His eyes widened. “Sorry.” He touched her jaw lightly, and it struck her how a man so careless with himself, could be so gentle with her. Their eyes met, and she became very aware of his body covering hers.

“Berhenti! Berhenti!” yelled a security guard, running towards them. Their argument must have alerted him.

“Bollocks.”

They stood up.

The man’s cap flew off his head as he ran faster. They could outrun him for sure, but Hardy didn’t budge. The security guard was a middle-age Indonesian man with small sticky-out ears. Upon noticing they were not locals, he switched to English. “Stop! You cannot be here. Forbidden. You come with me.”

Arms crossed, Hardy towered over him. “What are you hiding, uh? Who are you protecting?”

“You come with me.” He grabbed a walkie-talkie from his utility belt, to call for back-up perhaps. He had a stun gun too.

“They’re destroying your island, your birthplace,” Hardy continued. “Report us to your management and this will go on. But we can help change this situation that’s—”

“Look, we were not doing anything wrong,” Hannah intervened before Hardy got them in trouble. She looped her arm through his. “Just wandering, exploring. It’s such a romantic place, we got carried away…”

She fluttered her eyelashes at Hardy, but he made no attempt at playing along. The security guard lowered his walkie-talkie.

“I understand it’s important that we don’t come here. I’m sure there’s a good reason, it looks dangerous. Really, it’s our fault, we shouldn’t be trespassing.”

Hardy finally looked at her, appalled by her apologies. Hannah continued, taking on a honeyed voice and offering her nicest smile.

“We don’t want you to get in trouble with your boss. I mean, you would, wouldn’t you? Be in trouble that is, if your boss knew we’d wandered all the way here by accident.”

It took a moment for Hannah’s words to sink in, after a few blinks, the security guard’s blank stare turned into a smile.

“Yes, yes. Okay. You leave, I”— he mimed zipping and locking his mouth— “no trouble for you. Thank you for me, okay?”

She nudged Hardy. “Give him some money.”

“I’m not participating in corruption.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” She had a few Rupiahs folded in her phone case, and she handed them all to the man. “Can you show us the way back? I think we got a little lost. Thank you, you’re very kind.”

The security guard escorted them back to the lobby. The concierge noticed them arriving together, but the guard lied and said he’d found them lost. It reassured Hannah that he wouldn’t talk. Under no suspicion, she would be free to continue investigating. If only Hardy hadn’t gotten on his high horse, they could already have proof of the resort’s scam.

As they walked towards the south wing of the hotel, Hannah kept glancing at him expectantly.

“Wha’?”

“Aren’t you going to thank me for saving your arse?” she said.

“Sorry? Saving my arse! He could’ve helped us more if you hadn’t bribed him. If I’d had time to convince him—”

“Not with the way you were talking to him. You’re just so fucking condescending.”

He crossed his arms and clenched his jaw.

“So the hotel’s not very good for the environment. Is it really worth risking your life for?” Hannah asked.

He huffed impatiently and took her aside. He told her everything he knew: the foreign investors, the Navy evicting families, the corruption, the threats to his journalist friend, the destruction of mangroves and fields. It was so much bigger than she’d imagined. Overwhelmingly so. He told her about the Tirrand family. How the father tried to protect his farm and received five bullets to the chest. In front of his own daughter. Hannah thought of that little girl with the fierce eyes, dauntless now that she’d already seen the worst possible thing.

Hannah felt suddenly very cold. She cared about what had happened. And then she didn’t. She turned her gaze towards the window and the starlit sea.

“It would be a shame not to share such beauty with the world,” she said in a voice that seemed to come from outside herself. “I don’t like how it happened, but why should they keep this island to themselves?”

“What are you on about?”

“I’m just saying, what’s done is done,” she continued without looking at him. “They can’t go back, the resort’s built, might as well make the best of it.”

She was aware of the strain in her cheeks as she smiled.

“You need some rest,” he said.

What a pretentious wanker, she hoped to never see him again.

______

Chapter 3: Singapore

#hardy x hannah #Broadchurch #secret diary of a call girl #Alec Hardy #romantic plankton #travelers AU #lostinfic writes stuff

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cblgblog · 6 years

Text

In honor of Steve’s 100th birthday, here’s some Stegginelli.

“Happy fucking birthday. I hate you.”

This greeting did nothing to quell Steve’s hatred of his birthday.

Half laughing, half wincing, Steve kissed the back of Angie’s neck, which was about as much physical contact as she allowed him these days. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“Burn in hell,” she grumbled, kicking off the sheets that tangled around her legs.

“Already there, darling.” Peggy’s voice was equally grumpy as she shifted in bed, enough to place her hand on the bump of Angie’s stomach. “I hope this one at least got some sleep.”

“This one needs to get out, that’s what this one needs.” Levering herself up with assistance from Steve, Angie wiped sweat soaked curls from her eyes. “Peg, how is it that Howard can build himself flying cars, but fixing the AC in this place is too much for him?”

“The car remains a bust, unless you want a few seconds of hovering followed by a colossal thud.”

“Bet the car has AC though.” Heaving out a great sigh, Angie kissed Steve, brief and soft. “Happy birthday. Really. Love you.”

“I love you.” Steve put his hand on Angie’s belly, next to Peggy’s. “Both of you.”

Angie hummed. “Birthday tradition’s still off. Sorry, Soldier.”

“It’s not like I can do any more damage,” Steve said, drumming his fingers over the taut skin that concealed their first child.

“Who says? Mr. super serum, you might plant one in there before this one’s even out.”

“I really don’t think that’s going to happen.”

“I really don’t think I’m risking it. Peg, do your duty, think of England.”

A small explosion of sound invaded their room, another in the endless barrage of fireworks that’d been assaulting them for four days straight. Peggy flinched. “Oh I am,” she said, scowling. “Were I home, I’d be having a perfectly wonderful lie-in instead of listening to you ungrateful Yanks carry on.”

“So, no birthday tradition then?” Steve asked.

“Darling, given the seemingly infinite stocks of fireworks in this city, and how hot, twitchy and exhausted I already am, do you really want my teeth so close to that part of your anatomy?”

“Right. Maybe next year. You are hot though.”

“Mmm. Still a no.”

“Damn right. Don’t listen to him, Peg, that’s how I got like this. Maybe all the noise will scare this thing out,” Angie said. “One of you shove over, I have to pee. Again.”

Steve shoved over, helped Angie up. “Come on, you don’t want the baby born today.”

“Don’t I? It’s been squatting inside me way too long.” Angie pressed her fingers into her lower back, working at a soreness that never seemed to ease.

“Cheer up, love,” Peggy said, not cheerful at all as she stood, “you’ll be squatting soon enough, and then the trespasser will be out.”

“Screw you, English.”

Another blast of sound went off. Peggy cursed. “Ungrateful bloody bastards, the lot of you.”

Steve was left standing by himself as Peggy muttered about making breakfast “assuming the heat from the oven doesn’t kill us all.” Angie waddled off to the bathroom (waddling was the only thing to call it, though to actually do so risked death). A moment later she declared that one of them better be on hand in case she got stuck to the toilet seat.

“Happy birthday to me,” Steve muttered.

***

All in all, it went as well as a reasonably terrible day was ever going to go. Peggy made him a birthday breakfast, one of the rare occasions she admitted her ability to cook. They went to the Martinelli house for a barbecue. Angie’s father and oldest brother had both gone to war, understood the harsh reactions that the fireworks triggered in Steve and Peggy. The four of them sat in the blistering heat and complained about that for awhile, and then several of Angie’s brothers called her a fat penguin in a flower dress.

The resulting bloodshed was less than Steve would’ve expected, but that was only due to Angie’s disinclination to move. “This thing you stuck me with is leeching out all my strength,” she’d said.

When they got home, Angie barely bothered to kick her shoes off before taking over the nearest couch. She mentioned the leeching situation again, then dropped off to sleep. Steve lost track of Peggy but didn’t pursue her. He saw in her eyes that she needed a break from the constant intrusions of sound, wished he could provide it as a short but loud series of blasts went off in the distance. Sometimes he hated his enhanced hearing.

Angie slept through it, her dress hiked up past her stomach with no care for modesty. Steve, knowing he risked death if he disturbed her, sat himself on the floor near Angie. She was flushed and sweaty from the heat, and he wished he could give her the benefits of a serum-regulated body temperature. He wasn’t comfortable, but he had it far better than either of his spouses. Carefully, he placed a hand on Angie’s bare belly, rubbed slow circles.

“Don’t tell her I told you this,” Steve said quietly. “Don’t listen to your mama, not this time. You stay put awhile longer. You don’t want to come on my birthday.”

His birthday had never bothered him, ironically, until he became Captain America. Then it became a sign, almost a joke, really. Of course Captain America would share America’s birthday. The date became less about everything else that made it important, everyone else, and more about him. The interviewers would ask if he knew from the beginning, because of his birthday, that he was meant for something special, if his mother knew. Most of them stopped asking when his answer remained the same, that his mother probably would’ve preferred he show up a month later, when he was meant to, shown up healthy.

“You don’t want my birthday,” he continued, voice warm in the heat as he spoke to his child. “You deserve your own day, where we all celebrate just you. Not me or the country or anything else, just you and how amazing you are and how happy we are. And a day when your mum and me aren’t so grumpy.”

Footsteps across the hardwood. “I’ve every right to be grumpy,” Peggy said. “Ungrateful bastards, the lot of you.”

“I know, Peg.” Steve smiled as he felt her arm around his shoulder, her lips in his hair as she stood behind him.

“It wouldn’t be the worst, if he chose to make his appearance now,” said Peggy. “At least it would give me a reason to look forward to this wretched day.”

“Right. Because you don’t have that already.”

“You know what I mean.”

Steve took her hand, his other one remaining on Angie’s stomach. “Wouldn’t be the worst,” he conceded, “but wouldn’t be the best. And she deserves the best.”

“He.”

“She.”

“Whatever it is,” Angie said, voice heavy with sleep, “it wants you both to shut up.”

“How long have you been awake?” Steve asked. He should’ve caught the change in her breathing, but he found that the baby tended to take up most of his focus.

“Long enough to want you to shut up,” Angie said with fake annoyance, real affection. She reached a hand out, touched Steve’s cheek. “Wouldn’t be a bad birthday, you know. Lots of great people with that birthday.”

Steve kissed Angie’s forehead as Peggy moved to sit at the end of the couch, taking Angie’s swollen ankles into her lap. “She’ll be great all on her own,” Steve said, “with her own great birthday.”

Angie sighed heavily, stroked his face again, through his hair, before covering his hand on her stomach. “Well you heard it, kiddo. You can stay where you are today, that’s daddy’s birthday present. After that, you got a week to get out or I’m having a lease drawn up.”

Steve smiled. He loved his birthday.

***

In the early hours of July 7th, Steve was awoken with an elbow to the ribs. Peggy received similar treatment, judging by the cursing.

“Bloody hell, Angie. The AC’s fixed, those goddamn fireworks have finally stopped. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had a decent sleep?”

“Little over a week,” came Angie’s voice through the cool darkness. “Boo hoo, I’ve had an invader in my stomach for nine months.”

“Yes, my gorgeous, perfect darling, I noticed that about seven months ago. Is there a pressing reason you’re bringing it up now?”

“I think it’s pressing to get out, finally. That reason enough for you?”

Steve felt his heart stop, something that should be next to impossible given the serum. He turned on the bedside lamp and saw Peggy looking significantly more awake than she’d sounded moments ago. “You mean…?” He struggled for words.

Angie grinned. “I think they think it’s safe to come out now that all the fireworks have stopped.”

Peggy huffed, took Angie’s hand with one of hers while picking up the phone next to their bed with the other. “At least we know the child has good sense, waiting for all that nonsense to end. Are you alright, my love?”

“Never better,” Angie said, still smiling. “You alright, Steve? Haven’t said much.”

What was there to say? He cupped Angie’s face in his hands, kissed her, smiling from ear to ear. “Never better, Ange, never for a second.”

#agent carter #stegginelli #Steve Rogers #Peggy Carter #Angie Martinelli #My writing #ot3 #polyamory

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hannahstocks · 4 years

Text

’99 bottles of beer on the wall, 99 bottles of beer, take one down, pass it around, 98 bottles of beer on the wall’…

Mild hysteria in both our voices, oncoming traffic lights, lighting up the salt streams running down beetroot coloured cheeks, eyes squeezed together so tightly, with a force in her lungs to be reckoned with.

I’d had a bad feeling about the first camp spot, ‘something just doesn’t feel right’ as I screwed up my face apologetically. There was something about camping next to a heavily logged area of forest which gave me a sad sunken feeling, a graveyard for trees made me draw a little deeper for air, knotting in my stomach. The fast flowing river on the other side of us juxtaposed the feeling of sadness with life and vitality and an eagerness to swim, but we pushed on, with a slightly passive aggressive tone floating around the van and a groan for dinner in our bellies.

My gut feeling pushed our eta a little later than we’d hoped, most of all, for the little beetroot faced girl sitting in between us.

I had worried a little before departure, we’d traveled in the van so many times before, longer and farther distances. I was longing for the simple life, basic routines, outdoors even when you’re in doors with the selfish flexibility to stay or go, to see where the wind would blow.

We were quickly realising that we needed to slow down, rushing from one spot to another was not conducive to a 6 month old, nor conducive to our own level of sanity and it felt good, new perspectives.

The last few nights in the van I had starred out of the window and into the stillness of the night, darkness laden with stars, temperatures dropping, my back covered in goosebumps, wedged against the cold metal of the barn door, with one slightly chilly boob exposed and a hungry little girl attached.

How life had changed.

Having to get ‘nowhere quickly’ was starting to create a new perspective, a shift in mindset enabling the appreciation of those seemingly mundane moments. Finding something quite methodical and beautiful about piling our bags on the front seat ready for bed, washing up in stream water, putting the bed away and making the bed at night, tag teaming to go to the toilet or brushing our teeth. Feeding into the early hours.

Those first few days, the weather proved favourable for us, gifting us with blue skies and the kind of warmth that feels like you really deserved it, small pockets of Autumnal grace warming the parts of us exposed and making those cold water dips that little more bearable.

The Lake District proved to be some of the coldest water we’ve both swam in yet, painful, stabbing all over our bodies, stealing our breath as we submerged into the most beautifully emerald water, crystal clear. Each of us looking on as the other floats down the river, navigating rocks and mini rapids. A little part of us enjoying the others discomfort along with a sense of camaraderie. Taking turns, now a necessity.

Have you ever seen a horny Bull? Weird question maybe, but when one sets its sights or its smell on a field of unassuming cows, you soon learn that fences just don’t exist, merely a slight obstacle, a nuisance if you will and you want to be as far away as you possibly can.

Sheets of glass welcomed us that evening, with that Autumnal late afternoon light, casting favourable sun flares and romanic feelings, I think we even held hands at one point. It was the light to give those van legs a resurgence of energy.

No matter how many times we’ve thrown a ball for Dillon and watched him launch, with pure joy into the water, each time it seems like the first time, somehow still elated by the sight of that moment, mid air, all limbs outstretched, anticipation on his little face. And honestly, a slight jealously stirs inside that you can want something so bad as if it’s the first time you’ve ever had it, time and time again, like a really really good groundhog moment.

Hot dogs with all the trimmings were on the menu that evening, oh and sliced baby fingers. Note to self, always remember when you’ve opened a can of beer and placed it in arms reach of your baby, she will want to play with it and most probably, start playing it like a singing bowl. The never ending emergence of guilt revealed itself to me with conviction that evening. A few tears, a little bit of blood and she was fine, I wasn’t. A play mate for Dillon began to soften the blow as they played well into dusk, dropping the ball onto the van door mat, eyes drilling into us ‘please throw, please throw, please throw’. People began to congregate and beach fires started to emerge, embers flying straight up and into the windless night. We would fall asleep to stillness and I’d wake to feed the babe to chilly temperatures, 3 or 4 degrees at most.

The next morning saw a slow relay of running, swimming and stretching, James held out the baton and it was my turn. Pausing on the shoreline, bikini clad at the start of the Caledonian canal, water running down my goose pimpled skin, enjoying the surge of heat glowing through my body from the mix of salt and fresh water. Each rock on the bottom as clear as looking through glass.

Just towards the fields behind the van, we watched a bull, come out from no where and start charging the length of 4 football pitches, barbed wire fences separating each field. He’d become entangled in each fence and momentarily be stuck, bucking his legs. James and I looked at each other like ‘what do we do?!’ And then he’d kick his way free and onto the next, same scenario, before bulldozing the last fence, straight through and into the woodland and up into the field of grazing cows, blissfully unaware of what was about to hit them. It amazed us, that sheer one tracked focus, the brutal strength and discard for anything in his way.

Further North and well into Scotland, the good weather came and went and as a good friend recently said, no family holiday would be complete without a couple of nights in a static caravan. We watched low tide turn to high from inside the warmth and through the rain drenched window, the side rain now relentlessly beating down, wind so strong the sides shaking. Normally I would have felt like we were cheating on the van, but honestly, I couldn’t have been happier sat watching the weather, inside and dry.

The caravan sat on the far east of the peninsula, unspoilt and wild, stretching out into the Atlantic Ocean, a single track road leading to the most westerly point on the Great British mainland.

There was no rush, nowhere to be, no waves to chase.

The weather cleared, patches of sunshine with rain, rainbows decorating the sky.

We made the slow way west, the sound of cameras clicking as we inspected the sun kissed ever changing landscapes; enchanted woodland into open pastures, tucked away bays and mountainous passes; taking it in turn to dash from the van, catching precious moments in between showers. Sometimes, just staring out, cameras down, impossible to capture.

Castles at low tide, friends with nordic cabins looking out over hills rolling into lochs with mountains lacing the edges, unsuccessful fishing spots revealing hidden bays for swimming and the babe taking her first ever picture, first of many I’m sure.

We’d been keeping an eye on the weather chart, heavy rain and strong winds on the forecast. Hopping on the ferry we headed north and into the eye of the storm. Sunshine joined us over the short and relatively smooth crossing, although it doesn’t take much for me to seek out somewhere to lie down, breathing the fresh air in deeply, wooziness on the horizon.

The wind continued to increase throughout the day as we pulled up to our camp spot, positioning the van with what felt like a million micro adjustments to save ourselves from the soon becoming Gail force head winds.

Watching on, hikers pitched single man tents on the grass in the most exposed of areas which unfortunately just happened to be the flattest. The swell in the bay was small but what there was of it was boasting white caps, foam blowing onto the shingle and across the bay.

I thought a lot about those hikers over the duration of our short stay. They were in for a rough night, thats for sure, struggling to erect their tents in the first place, sides bowing into themselves and away from the oncoming wind, no doubt pressing up against them and their kit, now sheltering inside. Condensation building. They would fall asleep to torrential rain and wake up to it, relentless, no break. But I envied them. And not because I wanted to be anywhere other than where I was, but because I know that feeling, the rollercoaster of feelings which come from doing something physical and getting completely drenched, feeling uncomfortable, tired, irritable and ravenous but so full of satisfaction and overwhelming joy that its been anything but a fair weather experience, instead, a full on adventure. I imagined them finding a pub a couple of days later when their hike was over, pint in hand, hearty meal on the table, cheeks rosy with that immediate fuzzy feeling, contented satisfaction.

Maybe I’m just a romantic though.

Maybe they all hated every second.

Walking up the rough track, we gazed out towards the dominant cliffs and across the bay, waterfalls scattered in the hills, watching the weather as it crept in visible sheets across the sky; most of the hikers tucked up inside their canvas sheets, a couple still frantically tying down guy ropes.

‘I think it’s gonna skirt across and miss us’, he says hopefully. Looking towards the looming sky, I didn't share his optimism. But we kept walking upwards, stretching our legs, tripping over lose rocks, struggling a little with fatigue and the extra weight strapped to me in her pile fleece onesie.

There is always the need to move, in life, in general but no more than when we’re on the road. So much sitting and snacking, the body gets restless and the mind starts to irritate and there’s only so much van chair yoga before you start to feel the opposite effects.

And so it begins, that piercing side rain that was ‘definitely’ going to miss us. Oh it hurts and it’s so wet, the kind of rain that soaks you instantly, no rain jacket, just a fleece, absorbing all the moisture, jeans sticky and heavy, arms wrapped around the little warm parcel strapped to me, asleep, oblivious.

The wetness would continue into the night and all of the next day too, completely relentless.

It was a full moon, we were trapped inside the van, tensions were high and there were almost tears over spilt gnocchi.

Luckily we’re still married.

Just.

The problem with being a Pisces is making decisions. Hard enough with one pisces. Even harder with two. We sat in a lay by eating sandwiches, refreshing the iPhone and what the weather was predicting for the next week. It looked bleak for where we were and there was a pull for sunshine and waves in Ireland, but an even bigger niggle in my belly that we hadn’t even scratched the surface of Scotland, the thought of leaving without further exploration left me feeling a little empty. Plus, how often is the weather right anyway?

And so we made the decision (after five long hours) to keep heading North, further exploring the wonder of the west.

“ROAD CLOSED”.

‘You’re fucking kidding?!’

This wasn’t your usual road closure, this was the kind of road closure which had you driving from the west coast to the east, driving North and then back West again. What should have been an hour journey, turned into four.

In the dullness of the fading light, the massive mountains sprouted up from the earth and engulfed us, dwarfing our van and the road we drove along through the nature reserve, waterfalls in mountain sides, precarious sheep teetering on the edge, green everywhere with rock walls lining the way and running off in all directions, at all different elevations across the face.

It was still raining when we found our camp spot, but it was irrelevant.

Our van sat off the quiet road on a small patch of grass with rocks flowing from the sliding door and down into the loch, the tide was high and the sound of mini lapping waves was delicious. The air breathed purity down into our lungs and the anticipation for a swim the next day gave us bursts of excitement each time we ventured for a nature wee. This trip was quickly becoming the ‘cold water swimming holiday’ and I couldn’t have been happier about it.

Im learning that life, now more than ever, runs in stages, a bad stage feels endless, whilst a good stage is laced with anxiety knowing that it wont last. We had a sleeper, we didn’t even realise how lucky we were but we’d keep quiet when others would talk about multiple wake ups and multiple feeds, didn’t want to jinx it. We were slowly starting to join the latter stage.

Those early feeds in the vans were also presenting me with a sneaky peak into a very special time of day/night, nobody around, just the two of us awake with wildlife right outside the door venturing closer for inspection, feeding, wandering. Deer right outside the van, owls hooting, foxes scurrying and those stars, on a clear night, are enough to send you into a dream like state no matter how awake or tired you feel. So much is happening when we’re sleeping.

A beautiful sunny scenic walk would prove too much for our little girl, icy winds, streaming eyes, goose pimples and mini baby shivers, with the undertone of ‘we pushed it too far’, slight stress in each wobbly step back down to the van. While there were still snores and deep breaths into my chest, slumber and contentment, we gazed around at the beautiful valley, peering over steep cliffs whilst cliff faces in the distance soared up towards the clouds, pools of water decorating the rocky terrain, adding rocks to cairns along the way.

‘This one’s for Billie’, he proclaims.

We’d reached the part of Scotland I’d been daydreaming about in the lead up to the trip, the part of the country we could have so easily have missed had we made a slightly different decision, back in that lay-by, back in the torrential rain, the day of indecision.

Floating on my back, the icy water now spilling over my limbs, a sky of grey mist above, jagged rocks below. The babe strapped to her dad, Dillon at his side somewhere in the hills. I let my head fall back, ice-cream head threatening to bite, the air still, no-one insight. I can feel my energy levels going from zero to off the charts with every second, with every deep breath, the sleepless night washed off and a soothing reminder that the water never fails to be the natural compass back to myself.

Next stop.

The emerald Isle.

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wordshappensometimes · 7 years

Text

Ghost in the Sun Pt. 2

(Steve Rogers x Enhanced Reader)

Summary: Just because you can make yourself invisible doesn’t mean you can keep yourself from getting a nasty sunburn, and after a grueling mission in the Moroccan desert that’s exactly what’s happened. Luckily Steve is more than willing to help you put aloe on those hard-to-reach places once you get back.

A/N: Couldn’t wait to post part 2 so here it is! I’ve never really read a fic that was just the mission so I’m a bit nervous to see what ya’ll think, but don’t worry part 3 will be the much-anticipated fluff, so hang tight. Let me know what you think about my first go at writing a fic!

Words: 1,843

Warnings: swearing, violence, blood, sunburn?

Part 1

“Cap, we’ve got multiple gunshots, and no movement from (Y/N)” Nat informed him as she turned from the monitor to Steve.

The Cap said nothing but looked tense as he walked over to the monitor to take a look for himself. The mark indicating your position sat motionless on the map. Steve clenched his jaw and thought for a moment; “let’s give her a second. If she doesn’t move in, let’s say fifteen minutes, we reach out to her on the coms, see if she’s alright.” Steve looked between Natasha and Sam, who both nodded in agreement.

All eyes were glued to the small blue dot on the monitor for the next fourteen and a half minutes.

The last time the team had been in a position like this, you had been trailing a black market dealer who traded in weapons of all kinds, including enhanced individuals. You had instructions to follow her to the sale of a enhanced 5-year-old and then take out her and the buyer once the transaction was complete, but it had taken longer than expected and the team had gotten antsy. The buyer had just arrived at the warehouse when all of a sudden you heard Steve hollering in your ear, asking whether you were alright, what was going on, if you needed backup, were you okay, “dammit (Y/N) talk to me!” But of course you couldn’t fucking talk to him, you were 12 feet from a dealer who thought she was all alone in an abandoned warehouse in the middle of fucking nowhere- talking was not an option. You tried tapping on your earpiece in morse code, but it didn’t seem to pick up on the mic, so you waited with your heart in your throat as the transaction started.

Steve’s voice came over the coms again “(Y/N) if you don’t respond we’re going to storm the building, we’re blind out here tell us what’s going on.” Pissed off, stressed out, and out of options, you ripped the earpiece out of your ear and held it directly to your mouth whispering as quietly as you could “Do not. Storm. The building. Hold position. I repeat hold position.”

“Who’s there?” the dealer and the buyer yelled in unison and they opened fire on your position.

“¡Puta mierda! (fucking shit!)” You screamed as you shoved your earpiece back in and took evasive maneuvers. “¡Te voy a matar, Steve, en serio, te lo juro.(I’m going to kill you, Steve, I swear)” You fired back on the dealer and shot her in the stomach after she’d hit you in the leg “¡Coño impaciente de mierda! ¡Chinga tu madre, Steve! (You impatient piece of shit asshole! Fuck your mom, Steve!)”

Steve’s Spanish wasn’t so great, but he’d understood enough to know he’d seriously screwed up, and that you were in serious trouble. The team stormed the building and apprehended the buyer as he tried to escape. Despite having been shot three times, you were okay, well okay enough to give Steve a piece of your mind at least.

Mercifully, since then Steve had gotten better about maintaining radio silence.

But little did the team know that you had just narrowly avoided dying, and more importantly: ruining the mission. You waited until you were certain your target was out of earshot to let yourself become visible again so you could assess the damage get started on wrapping up what you could already tell were going to leave some nasty scars.

Your shirt was all but in tatters so you took it off and used to fabric to wrap around some of the cuts on your arms. Thankfully, along with all of your clothing, Tony had also engineered some bandages that could become invisible with you, so you applied those to the bullet wound that crossed your ribs (a near miss) and the second bullet wound in your leg (unfortunately less of a miss, more of a direct hit). You sat and waited for the bandage on your leg to automatically tighten and slow the blood-flow, you chuckled to yourself and shook your head- working with Stark’s tech felt like actually living in the future. Once you had yourself all put together, you pushed yourself back up to your feet, regained your invisibility and set off uphill again, more determined than ever to get this pendejo (asshole); meanwhile, unbeknownst to you, three extremely tense Avengers let out a collective sigh of relief.

The heat of the Moroccan sun bore down on you as you continued to track your target up the mountain. You guessed it had to be around 3 or 4 in the afternoon, and the sun was absolutely scorching your back as you worked your way up this seemingly never-ending zig zag. It’d been at least an hour since you’d taken off your ruined long-sleeved shirt after the fight, and you could already feel the sunburn forming on your shoulders and back.

Yep, sunburn.

You couldn’t believe it either when you first figured out you could still get sunburnt while invisible. When visible you were paler than an igloo on a winter’s day, you made pre-serum Steve look like he had a glowing tan, so sunburn was no stranger to you. (It was actually your paleness rather than your invisibility that had earned you the nickname La Fantasma (the ghost) when you were with the cartel). But as you understood it, being invisible meant keeping light from reflecting off of your body, which in theory should have meant that it couldn’t burn you, but after some experiments with Stark and Banner they’d figured out that you could only avoid lights waves that fell within the human range of sight, UV rays on the other hand, could continue to burn you all they wanted, qué suerte, eh? (What luck, huh?)

Two more hours of hiking later and el pendejo (asshole), as you had taken to not-so-affectionately calling him, had finally reached his hideout, it was a small shack built into the mountainside. You tucked yourself away behind some boulders and waited silently. He knocked on the door 5 times and waited until a man with a semi-automatic rifle emerged. They spoke quietly: “What took you so long?” El Pendejo dragged his hand across his split lip and spat before answering: “Someone followed me, but I took care of them. The trade’s at sundown, get them in the truck.” The second man nodded as pendejo finished speaking and stepped inside the shack. Minutes later he emerged with the three hostages, and your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach. The briefing had only said “female hostages,” but these were children, no more than 12 years old each. A fire burning in your heart, you tapped your earpiece to open the coms “I have eyes on the hostages” you whispered.

Everyone in the jet jumped at the sudden voice in their ears.

“Th-they’re just kids” you added, still trying to process the revelation.

Steve, Sam, and Natasha all exchanged looks and jumped into action.

“We’re on our way to your location, (Y/N) proceed as planned” Steve answered as Nat initiated the takeoff process.

“Negative, Captain. I’m injured and outmatched over here, I’m going to need backup”

Sam looked at Steve and responded “I gotchu kiddo, just hang in there.” Steve nodded, and in an instant Sam took off out of the back of the jet as it started to lift off of the ground.

You held your position and waited for the team, your eyes never leaving the three girls. They looked like they’d been through hell, and you wanted nothing more than to save them then and there, but you knew you didn’t have the strength to go through another fight alone. On the trek you had tried not to focus on it, but you’d lost a decent amount of blood, and you were seriously dehydrated. No, it was better to wait for backup than to put their lives at risk by jumping the gun.

When you finally heard the familiar whine of Sam’s wingsuit in the distance you let yourself become visible again so Sam knew your position. His voice came over the coms: “Alright, simple drop-in should do the trick. On my signal.”

Steve cut in “Remember: no fatalities. We need these guys for questioning later.”

“Yessir no problem. Alright let’s go ghost girl!” Sam called as he swooped down and kicked one of the men in the back, throwing him forward and knocking him to the ground. You jumped into action, running towards the girls to cut their binds loose, you remained visible so as to not startle them. Upon hearing the commotion, the man with the semi automatic rifle burst out of the shack and aimed it towards you and the girls. “Run, RUN!” you yelled at them in Arabic as you squared up to him, ready to charge towards him; you kept yourself visible so that he aimed for you instead of the girls. Just then, as you heard the safety release on the rifle, the wing of Sam’s suit flashed in front of you as he protected you from the semi’s rounds. “Stay with the hostages, I got this!”

You nodded and disappeared so you could get to the girls who- as it happened- had just been cornered by the hostile that Sam had knocked down earlier, your favorite pendejo. You snuck up behind him and threw your arms around his neck, choking him and jerking him backwards. He flailed against your grasp, but he was losing power quickly as you constricted his airway. He collapsed to his knees and finally he tumbled onto his stomach, at which point you relinquished your hold on him and stood up, making yourself visible again. You looked down at him and spat, “serves you right, demon.”

The oldest looking of the three hostages slowly stepped towards you, and then repeating your words, also spat on her captor. You smiled at her and put your hand on her shoulder, “come on, let’s get you home.”

Once the girls had been reunited with their families, and el pendejo and company had been turned over to the proper authorities, all that was left was for you and the team was to make the long flight back to base. Everyone was exhausted from the week-long escapade, but no one more than you, and they were more than happy to let you keep that title. After you’d finally slumped into your seat in the jet, you feigned a regal air, dubbing yourself The Queen of the Exhausted and the Sunburnt™. Sam let out a chuckle as he got situated in his seat next to you for takeoff, then stretching out his finger, poked you on your (quickly reddening) arm.

“Oww! Watch it, cabrón (ass)” you threatened.

“Damn you really did catch some sun, huh?” Sam, although just teasing you, sounded concerned. You also couldn’t help but notice the wince on Cap’s face as he looked up and down your freshly burnt body. What you wouldn’t give for a gallon of aloe right now.

You closed your eyes and chuckled to yourself: “This isn’t even my final form, boys.”

______________________________________________________________________

Part 3 coming soon! Let me know what ya’ll thought :)

#steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #marvel fanfiction #enhanced reader #captain america #steve rogers #sam wilson #natasha romanoff #fanfiction

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johnsaye · 5 years

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It’s alive!

Website

I’ve always thought of the word website as the singular word to describe a home for a person place or thing (noun) on the Internet. I don’t like web site or web-site, so website, it is. I’m kind of paving a new path here, creating a new version of my particular location in the World Wide Web. It’s nice. I like it. I’ve been toying with doing this for a while, and now it’s done. For a long time, I was simply forwarding to my Tumblr blog, but I’m afraid it just wasn’t malleable enough to keep up with changing times. So I’m planning to make the most of this.

It’s alive!

Writing

For everyone wondering what John’s up to, what he does, as much as he can, is writing. I started up again not too long ago, picking up again with National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) Which happens every November. Every year there a group of thousands of fiddling novelists get together and collectively, across the country and around the world give it a go at writing a fifty-thousand-word novel inside of thirty-days. I know, it’s not a long novel. A couple of times it was a great way to start then finishing longer work outside the time frame, but it’s still a great way to start.

I practiced. I was getting stronger, using my arm as much as I could. I played games. I swiped. I got good browsing and reading in my kindle app. I decided to train my right arm, I wanted to try Novel Writing month again despite my condition, with Plants vs. Zombies. At first, I could barely keep up. I waited. I trained more. I tapped and tapped, and started completing stages. Soon I completed the game. I figured if I could keep up with that, I could use similar motions to tap letters on my iPad onscreen keyboard. I completed the novel in thirty days. I didn’t say the first draft of it isn’t a nightmare, they all are, but this one is particularly bananas. I left crazy errors behind, trying to whip whatever story was there out, but I was pretty uncoordinated still at that point and I know there are pages and pages in there where I’m doing good to spell anything intelligible.

I’m still committed to editing it though. I’m going to run it through Grammarly and close my eyes. More on that soon.

This week I’ve been World building on my next piece of work. I decided I wanted to map out a series of star systems for a space adventure, but I wanted to be able to keep track of which planets were parts of different governments, and be able to tell which side which planets are on like unwashed a big interstellar game of Risk. Will it help? I’ve no idea, but it’s generating lots of story ideas, which is great.

As I was doing all this, I took a Masterclass with R. l. Stein on writing, and got to meet him on a live video chat. One of the most interesting things to me about his class to me, odd note, was the fact that he writes everything with one index finger. Here I was using a stick to punch out words again, one letter at a time. I was already writing with no fingers.

Health

For anyone I haven’t told yet, In 2016 I came down with an abomination called Guillain-Barré syndrome. Leave it to me to succumb to something I’d never heard of. We call it GBS for short. It knocked me flat on my back, and I mean that literally. For some, it amounts to partial paralysis. You dip down, then come back. Not me. I got the next to the worse variant. The one that doesn’t quite kill you, though it nearly did on several occasions. It’s an auto-immune disease that attacks the nervous system. It strips what’s called the myelin sheath that protects your nerves, helps them conduct the electric impulses that allow you to say, sends signals from your brain to your legs when you want to walk or hand when you want to pick up a fork, or eventually your lungs. It starts at your feet and hands and works it’s way up. The variant I had was nasty and nearly killed me. At my worst, they had to tape my eyes shut at night because I could close them myself anymore.

I was locked in…

I spent eight months in three different hospitals, had to undergo a tracheotomy and lived on a vent for five of them.

When I returned home I still couldn’t lift my arms. I need pretty much round-the-clock care. These days I’ve got some strength in my legs, and my arms are pretty good. My fingers are still very weak, and I can barely feel my feet. I’ve still got a long way to go, but I still have faith that I’ll walk again. I have physical and occupational therapy each twice a week, as well as a nurse’s visit once a week, and a nurse in to help me bathe. I used to also have speech therapy, but no longer need it.

I’ve successfully learned to speak again. That was some time ago.

I’ve got a lot to say about my time in the hospital. Much of it I’m still processing, even now. I’ll have a lot more to say, and I plan to drip that out. I’ve got a lot of memories from that time that doesn’t make a lot of sense. I spent large amounts of time hallucinating, or stuck in dream-like states while my brain and nervous system was growing back together. My mind did the best it could during that time while everyone was just trying to keep me alive.

As time goes on I’ll tell what I can. I get a lot of requests to write about it, but each time I open that part of my mind it’s too depressing to look at all at once. Maybe in blog form, I can talk about it in little chunks. Some might be longer than others. Some of it is pure dream-state madness, but I’ve got so many junk dreams mixed in with what was real that for me it’s very hard to distinguish. I’ll get there.

GBS was the end of an era for me. I lost everything except my family. I am incredibly grateful to them. I need lots of large medical equipment just to get around. I need a Hoyer lift to get out of bed. I need a powered wheelchair. It’s necessary for me to use a hospital bed. I need to use a stylus attached to my palm with a brace to type this and use my iPad. I lost my house. It was impossible to get my power chair through the door. It would have been cost-prohibitive to get me in the kitchen door, and then I’d be restricted to the ground floor with all the bathrooms on the second. The car had to go too. Carmax was happy to see it. We combined that cash with funds from a gofundme campaign where a ton of very generous people aided us in getting our ramp van. That donation is so appreciated. Couldn’t think of returning to work, not that I could get there from two-hundred miles away now. (Hi guys!) I can’t get to the bathroom without help. Coding even a little is a laborious process with essentially one finger. I think my days of commuting twenty miles by car to ride the train the rest of the way into town to hike another block, uphill to the office and back are over for me. I do miss walking around Piedmont Park at lunch though.

I’m coming along. Occupational therapy is still working with me on my fingers and physical therapy had me on the edge of the bed last time pushing like mad on this big platform walker we got recently. I’ve got more equipment coming to help me exercise and work what I do have.

Halloween

October 31st is coming up, and we usually try and add something new to the decorations each year. I’m not sure about everything else we’re going to do, certainly see if Garry the Grim Reaper is still going to inflate again for the third year in a row, but I’ve got some of my new ideas heading here in the mail right now. Garry is already a fourteen-foot-tall purple skeleton guy with a top hat that has a lightning flash inside him. Our yard gets noticed. We get a lot of trick-or-treaters and enjoy the night the best we can.

This year I know for sure that I’m going for a ground fogger, so that’s on the way, along with a rolling cart. When it’s time to turn off the lights and stop handing out candy, I want to be able to easily roll it into the house instead of trying to pull it away from other decorations or leave it outside. It’s got an ice bin for either ice or dry ice to keep the fog down on the ground. I hope it does well. We had a good fogger last year, but I accidentally got one I had to activate manually every time, and my thumb was sore at the end of the evening. This new one, a Mister Kool, has a timer. Looking forward to it.

source https://www.johnsaye.com/its-alive/

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joshuabradleyn · 5 years

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27 Ways to Exercise Without Realizing It.

I sat in the parking lot, absolutely terrified.

My palms were sweaty, my heart was racing, my brain was going crazy.

After ten minutes, I finally mustered up my 20 seconds of courage, literally yelled at myself, got out of the car, and walked through the double doors.

I was getting ready to try something I had always wanted to do but had been too scared….

And an hour later, I left a sweaty mess…

A sweaty mess with a giant smile on my face.

I had just attended my first swing dance class.

I know plenty of people who hate exercise but WANT to find a way to like it. And that’s what today’s post is all about: exercising in a way where life doesn’t suck.

Let’s dig in!

Get your Nerd Fitness Starter Kit

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Cutting out all excuses

“But Steve, I don’t like to exercise!”

While some are like Odie and love to run around all day, others are like Garfield and feel like they must be allergic to exercise.

I hear this every day, and I’m not surprised.

After all, I think exercise sucks too.

Today we’re going to eliminate the phrase of “I don’t like to exercise” from our vocabulary.

Cool? Instead, we’re going to change our our definition of exercise and our thoughts around it.

Here are my favorite ways to exercise without…exercising.

I swear this will make sense.

The Truth About Exercise

As stated in our Rules of the Rebellion, you can’t outrun your fork.

Unless you’re Michael Phelps swimming for 8 hours a day at a Olympic level, there is no amount of exercise that can cancel out a diet full of processed foods, junk food, and liquid calories.

“But Steve, he’s out-swimming his fork.”

Hey, fair enough!

Let’s get back on track.

For whatever reason, we human beings are amazing at justifying and rationalizing the most ridiculous things.

We use these rationalizations to justify really unhealthy behavior, and then compound that decision by saying things like, “Well, I already made one bad decision, so today is ruined. I’ll start tomorrow.”

In order for us to live a healthy life, we need to get your head straight and understand a few key facts:

If you aren’t losing weight, it’s because you’re eating too many calories each day. This is caused by any number of environmental or hormonal or psychological or habitual factors, but the science remains.

Exercise is actually a really inefficient way to lose weight sustainably when compared against focusing on fixing your nutrition.

This is where the problems arise, and what we’re going to do to fix stuff:

Exercising for an hour, burning 300-400 calories, and then saying “I earned this” to justify stuffing 1000 calories worth of junk food down your throat is a losing battle.

Exercise does not mean “run on a treadmill for four hours and be miserable.” Exercise is anything that elevates your heart rate and takes your body outside of its normal comfort zone.

Your diet is responsible for 80-90% of your success or failure when it comes to losing weight and getting healthier. If I could only tell you to fix one thing, your diet or exercising, it would be your diet. Every time.

Every decision counts and every choice adds up. One bad decision does not ruin a day. One day off doesn’t ruin a week. One week off doesn’t ruin a month. EVERY SINGLE DECISION you make can take you closer or further away from your ultimate goal. Stop worrying about the decision you made 10 minutes ago or yesterday and focus on the next one.

Combine these four facts, and we’re left with this:

Exercise is a bonus. Exercise helps your heart get stronger, can help build muscle, usually gets you outside the house and absorbing vitamin D, and brings you a litany of other health benefits.

Exercise is not an excuse to eat like crap. Instead, you need to reframe your mindset. Instead of “I earned this” start telling yourself: “If I’m going to exercise, I might as well make it worth it by eating right too.”

Daily exercise is a constant reminder that you are leveling up your life – that you must continue to make other good choices or you’re practically wasting your time.

If you’re looking for some guidance in this crazy world of ‘losing weight and getting in shape,’ I hear ya – this stuff can be overwhelming.

Expert instruction, accountability, and an instructor that gets to know you better than you know yourself, sound good? Check out our 1-on-1 coaching program to get paired up with a coach today.

25 Ways to ExercisE Without Exercising

When you say “but I don’t like exercising,” what you’re really saying is: “I don’t enjoy the particular type of exercise that I have in mind.”

If you don’t like lifting weights in a gym, don’t do it. If you don’t like running, don’t do it. I have zero plans to run more than a 5K in my life.

Unless there are zombies that can run a 10 k…in which case I’ll run an 11k.

My main goal with Nerd Fitness is to get you to enjoy exercise, find a way to do it every day, and combine that with making better decisions about the food you put in your body.

So, we need to find a way to exercise every day because it KEEPS US THINKING HEALTHY, which leads to other healthier decisions made throughout the day (where the real big wins are).

Here are 25 ways to “exercise” without realizing its exercise.

#1) Hiking, especially with friends – This last week I went and hiked around Lake Radnor in Nashville with fellow entrepreneur Matt Bodnar. We hung out with deer, saw incredible scenery, and talked about life and business. I also happened to walk five miles over various elevations.

#2) Walking – No time to hike? Go for a walk. Even a 15-minute brisk walk is enough time to get close to a mile walked, which gets you one step closer to Mordor. Do you have a 30-minute meeting at work? Have a walking meeting instead. Steve Jobs was known for doing this.

#3) LARPING – Live Action Role Playing. Might seem silly to those on the outside, but to those playing, it’s an amazing adventure that reminds us how awesome our imaginations are. Also, depending on the game, you could be wearing a heavy costume, swinging heavy weaponry, and running for your life!

#4) Rock Climbing – I love rock climbing. It’s one of the best arm/back/forearm workouts in existence, you get to feel like a badass when you reach the top of the wall, and all climbing routes are graded so you can level up the challenge as you get stronger/fitter/better. It’s a fit nerd’s dream!

#5) Geocaching – If rock climbing is a fit-nerd’s dream, then geocaching is a adventure nerd’s dream brought to life. Become a real life treasure-hunter (Lara Croft? Nathan Drake? You decide!), and get a great workout in while you’re at it.

#6) Dancing – Ever tried serious swing dancing? You’ll be sweating within ten minutes. How about hip hop? Drenched in sweat, and sore as hell the next day. Zumba? Tango? Flamenco? You’d be surprised what you can sign up for and what will elevate your heart rate.

#7) Roughhousing with your kids. I don’t have kids, but when I do, you can bet your ass I’ll be the dad out rolling around in the back yard with them. Don’t forget what it’s like to be a kid – it keeps you young. I really enjoyed this article from Art of Manliness on the importance of roughhousing!

#8)Climbing on stuff – Last week on my hike at Midoricon, I was walking through the woods with NF Rebel Joe (No, not THAT Joe). It was awesome to see this guy, having lost 100 pounds since finding Nerd Fitness, explore the woods like it was no problem: climbing on stumps, balancing on fallen trees, climbing trees, and more. When was the last time you’ve done stuff like THAT? Hmmm? (Shout out to MovNat!)

#9) Martial arts – Be honest. You watched The Matrix, you heard Neo go “I know Kung Fu” and you wanted to be able to one day say the same thing. Whether it’s Kung Fu, Muay Thai, Tae Kwon Do, Karate or Capoeira, there’s a martial art out there that will make you feel like a badass.

#10 Consider a standing desk – Although we all know that correlation does not prove causation, it’s no surprise that there’s a strong correlation between sitting all day and an early grave. Why not fix your posture, strengthen your legs, and spend the day being more productive with a standing desk?

#11) Have an active meeting – Hat tip to Charlie Hoehn on this one. If somebody wants to meet up with you for coffee, suggest something active: throwing a baseball, tossing a frisbee, going for a hike – anything that gets you up and moving. I say yes to pretty much anybody that invites me to play golf. Wink wink.

#12) You know… – That thing that consenting adults do? Yeah. Do more of that. Self-explanatory. Moving on…

#13) Clean – Ugh, nobody likes to clean the house/apartment. I certainly don’t. So I make a game out of it. I see how much I can accomplish with a single song blasting at max volume. Of course, after getting through one song, I figure “welp, I’ve already started, might as well keep going.”

#14) Do handstands – Here’s how.This is a fun activity that builds up serious arm and core strength and will leave you sweating bullets after even a few minutes. Find a park, go do handstands, cartwheels, somersaults, and whatever else makes you feel young again.

#15) Parkour – Our beginner’s guide to Parkour is one of the most popular on Nerd Fitness. I don’t care how old you are, there’s no reason you can’t get started with rolling around in your hard and vaulting over picnic tables and bike racks.

#16) Play out – Is Parkour too serious for you? Try a playout! Spiderman was on to something – climbing walls, swinging from skyscrapers, and popping flips around the bad guys. You might not be able to swing between buildings, but you can definitely visit a playground in your area and get creative!

#17) Adult gymnastics – In the same vein as Parkour, gymnastics will help you build some of the BEST real world strength you can get with any type of exercise, and it’s all done in a playful way without a single weight being picked up. Swing from rings, somersault, flip onto pads, and more. There are gyms all over the country.

#18) Yoga – Build flexibility, strength, and learn to freaking relax. There are million kinds of yoga, so sign up for a few different kinds and see which one lines up the best with what you’re looking for.

#19) Play video games that make you be active – Beat Saber. DDR (Dance Dance Revolution) counts too. Just Move. Anything that gets you off your ass and moving!

Oh what’s that? You’re playing a normal game like Grand Theft Auto V? Make a rule that you can only play while standing up. That’s what I do to keep myself from spending twelve hours on the couch in marathon gaming sessions!

#20) Play on a playground – Obviously not when kids are around. Preferably with pants on. Go down the slide, swing across the monkey bars, climb the rope all, balance on the balance beam. Create an obstacle course for yourself and see how quickly you can get through it. You can even work out on a playground too.

#21) Play a musical instrument – Did you know playing the violin for an hour burns about as many calories as walking around a track at a moderate pace for an hour? It turns out, our brains can burn boatloads of calories too. So challenge your brain!

#22) Join a Rec league – New in town? Want to be active and meet people? Join a kickball or softball league. You get to exercise AND it’s a great way to meet new people!

#23) Bike to work – I know there are a lot of Rebels in our community who dropped a bunch of weight by making one change: they biked to work, or biked to their friend’s house, or started biking generlaly. You get from Point A to Point B, you save money on gas, and you get a workout. That would make Michael Scott proud.

#24) Play a childhood game – What games did you play as a child? Capture the flag? Kick the can? Simple tag? Get a few friends together and give it a try – it will be the most fun you’ve had in a while!

#25) Park at the far end of the parking lot – Every step counts. Every tiny decision that is slightly different than the “OLD you” counts.

#26) Take the stairs. It’s only two flights! You are designed to move. You can do this. Sure, you’ll get winded the first handful of times. But it eventually becomes routine. And it all counts! Make a game out of it.

#27) Crush audiobooks while “exercising.” This is called ‘temptation bundling.‘ Pair something you love with an activity you’re trying to do more of. But I bet if you could only listen to Harry Potter (for the 600th time) while walking on a treadmill, you’d be more likely to get to the gym.

Get your Nerd Fitness Starter Kit

The 15 mistakes you don’t want to make.

Full guide to the most effective diet and why it works.

Complete and track your first workout today, no gym required.

I identify as a:

Woman

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Challenge yourself

I’d love for you to commit to trying something new at some point in the next six weeks.

I committed to Swing Dance Lessons for 6 weeks and I’m really really glad I did.

Here’s my advice to you:

Say yes before you can say no. Stop saying “I don’t have time” and realize you do. Stop saying “I can’t afford it” and find a way to make it a priority. Do all of this before you can talk yourself out of it.The best way to do that?

Commit in advance. I pre-paid my four weeks of swing lessons. Having already paid for it, I knew I’d be just throwing my money away if I didn’t attend. Put down a deposit and make an investment in yourself.

Go with a friend. I went to my class alone, which forced me to further develop my social skills, but if you happen to be TOO afraid to attend a class, get a friend to drag you there. It’s amazing what we do to avoid ridicule from our buddies.

Expect to suck. It was frustrating for me to not be good at swing dancing right away. After playing sports and lifting weights, it was a tremendous shift for me to stop trying to be the fastest, strongest, most perfect, and instead relax, let loose and enjoy myself. If you are learning a new skill, expect to suck at it. You’ll get better. As long as you remember to…

Have fun. Remember, we could get hit by a bus tomorrow. Every day above ground is a blessing, so enjoy it!

That one thing you always wanted to try but have been putting off? Today’s a good a day to get started. Just take that FIRST step. Google classes in your city. Find a site that focuses on beginners, and read about it. If there’s a place to pre-pay or make a deposit, do it.

And then go. Use your beastmode skills if you have to.

But suck it up, expect to not be good at the new activity immediately, and have some fun.

What’s the one new thing you’re going to try this month?

-Steve

PS: If you’re reading this because you HATE exercise but think you SHOULD be exercising, I hear ya. I too hate certain kinds of exercise, so I don’t do them – you’ll never catch me running because I strongly despise boring cardio!

If you are here because you’re trying to lose weight and want somebody to guide you through the entire journey, and who will ALSO never make you do exercise you hate, consider checking out our popular 1-on-1 coaching program. Your coach will get to know you, your likes and dislikes, and work with you to build an exercise plan and food strategy that you actually enjoy and also gets you results!

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photo source: treadmill, treadmill fall, dog, jump, garfield

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#27 Ways to Exercise Without Realizing It.

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almajonesnjna · 5 years