#and 2: i enjoy doing the exercises once i get started anyway!!!!

[capn-twitchery]

ok i said i was gonna do art fundamentals courses to improve then only got to do like 2 days before i got sick & my schedule got thrown off. but. INHALES

i'm gonna do it i'm gonna start back on it. i swear it. c'mon freddie it'll be so worth it. even if it's only 30 minutes a day. let's Go🔥🔥🔥

[4dkellysworld]

hii how is your "journey " going? i would like the hear about your practice

Hey, I think it's going great! I feel really quite pleased with the present moment. Hmm in terms of practice, I prefer to see it as a way of being/living rather than practice as practice often comes with the view of being the doer practicing and often there's expectations of outcomes/results attached to it (although I had to start these off viewing it as a practice first until it became natural).

These are some of the things I do my best to practice/embody every moment of every day (not everything all at once but based on what feels right for each moment but overall they're things that I practice):

Being present and aware in the here and now without identifying as the doer

During moments where resistance/negativity/limitation come up and it can be a lot, I just allow myself to be still and let everything be. Then I do some sort of variant of this "exercise" I described in the second half of the response based on what feels right and appropriate in the moment

Always being aware of my state of being/consciousness and making it a priority to "manage" it (which includes 1. investigating and dropping any thoughts of limitation, lack or negativity that come up from daily life and recognizing that it is not me 2. choosing to see/feel/know what I prefer to see/feel/know myself, others and the world regardless of appearances and not allowing myself to feel limited to what is perceived by the senses including my own thoughts and perceptions of 'the past'. So for me, my preference is seeing these in everything: freedom, harmony, peace, love, kindness, abundance, wholeness, fulfillment. All that good stuff. I've dropped most attachments/desires of wanting those feelings to be fulfilled externally through symbols and I enjoy just being in the state of being with those essences)

Being patient, accepting, understanding, compassionate, non-judgmental and loving of myself as well as others (which includes seeing "others" as just different forms of myself). This also means allowing everything to be as it is in the world with acceptance and without caring to change it or feeling bothered by it. If I feel bothered by something, I recognize that it's a reflection of my own consciousness and if it feels right, I'll do what I mentioned in the above point to drop whatever underlying thoughts of limitation there are. Then I continue to see what I prefer without feeling the need to physically do anything about it. If I feel spontaneously inspired to do something, I'll take action though

Challenging myself to do things that I feel resistant, averse, fearful and/or limited in order to "break out of the matrix" (which is just the mind's own limiting programming lol). E.g. feel afraid of offending/hurting someone just by speaking up so you don't want to speak your truth even though you really do want to? Do it anyway cos unless you do something about those limiting beliefs/programs, they'll keep directing your life until you do - you get to decide when that stops. Recognize you can still act with love and speak your truth with tact.

Not labelling/defining/judging anything including my own thoughts, feelings as well as how things are or how things happen. If I do, I catch myself then let go of the labels/definitions/judgments.

Choosing to be free from expectations and focusing on being present and enjoying it

Minimizing my consumption of information and being discerning & mindful of what I do. Neither believing nor disbelieving anything I read or hear (including my own thoughts that pop up!), recognizing it's all subjective and I can choose to change my mind about anything whenever I want.

Trusting my Self above all and "doing" what feels right for each moment by allowing Self to lead the way

Things that naturally happened so far as a result of practicing (I won't talk about any manifestations but more the inner changes):

Peace! Lightness of being. It's amazing. The more you drop, the lighter and more spacious you feel. Just keep dropping everything :D

Acceptance, connection and love for my Self. When I started, there was a lot of judging myself and comparing myself to other people's experiences and progress (it's just all ego trying its best to do what it thinks is right) but now I'm just allowing and loving my own experience and presence, happy to just be and trusting that all is well. I don't see anyone as better than the other, ultimately we are all One.

My capacity to give, feel, be and accept love. It feels like several lifetimes ago now when I think back to the time before I started, I don't even identify with that person anymore but she used to feel a lot of lack when it came to love and seeing love in the world used to trigger her a lot, especially with jealousy but now I love seeing love in the world, like yes this is the world I prefer, where everyone is loving and kind to each other.

No longer feeling like I need to fit into other people's experiences on this path in order to feel validated as having 'progressed' enough. No longer feeling inferior (or superior!) to others. Being patient with myself (and others!) and accepting everything is perfect as it is, everyone's 'journey' is going to look a bit different and there's no one-size-fits-all in terms of approach or experiences.

Being "kind" and more selfless - old pre-ND Kelly was a bit of a people pleaser and liked to do kind things to be perceived as kind and nice but now I just do things just because and then when people say 'oh that's so kind of you!' I'm like oh really? Never thought that, all I did was consider things from their shoes and wanted them to benefit too. I guess being seen as 'kind' naturally happens when you see everyone as yourself, you want everyone to be well and happy (I guess also cos I stopped labelling and defining things in general)

Greater imperturbability and stillness within - there are things that would have really bothered past Kelly that genuinely now don't affect me mentally/emotionally in any way and when I recognize that, there's a bit of a 'hey that's cool'. That's real freedom and peace, to not be affected by externals and being able to remain centred in your own beingness.

I'm more 'forgiving' and I can let go of things a lot quicker and a lot more easily (in comparison to the past) even with things that can feel quite difficult

A naturally quiet and still mind!! I used to not like meditation but now it's the greatest thing.

Less and less thoughts and feelings of negativity, lack and limitation. More and more joy, love, gratitude, open spaciousness, peace and freedom.

Don't feel the desire or need to argue with other people, I don't need to prove myself in any way, they can think what they want.

I don't know if it's a downside (lol) but many of the things that past Kelly enjoyed for entertainment are no longer enjoyable to me. E.g. like reading about celebs, watching shows that don't have any deep messages or spirituality in them, even like tarot readings used to be for fun and nothing serious but they're not even fun anymore. Oh well lol

It's easier to observe things more objectively when thoughts come up and recognize them as limitations rather than spiral into a loop and get caught up in identifying with the narrative or thought train

It's possible I missed some things but that's all I can think of atm. I didn't focus on results and then reverse engineer what sort of practices I needed to have in order to get there, it was more picking what felt right for me then just doing them from the heart with sincerity and then changes happened on their own. I guess it's like when someone starts eating healthier and exercises out of enjoyment rather than focused on weight loss, they may eventually find they suddenly have a slimmer and healthier body, it was kinda like that when you enjoy the present moment. Like one day I just found the changes had happened and it feels like it's a daily thing where in a way, every moment of every day "you" (the concept/identity/ego, not the true changeless you) are dying and being reborn with every choice you make, every thought you choose to accept or let go of - it's all in the mind. Every moment is a new moment and you don't have to be limited to what you perceive as 'the past'.

But ultimately, I don't think of taking credit for any changes that happened to me. I feel like it was initiated by sincerity but the changes happened on their own because I got ego out of the way (through those practices) and allowed Self to shine through. (This is a realization I just had now while writing all this so thank you for asking! I don't really reflect much on my 'progress' so this has been nice lol)

[gingernut1314]

Touch Me, Please pt. 2

Polnareff x GN!Reader

Summary: How Part 5 Polnareff likes to be touched

Warnings: jjba part 5, MAJOR SPOILERS FOR 29-39, phantom pains, feel-good fluff

Word Count: HC: 980+, Drabbles: 290+ & 400+, Total: 1.6K

A/N: sorry for reposting this. I accidentally deleted it 💀 anyway....here it is again and I hope you enjoy!!

↞ to Touch Me Masterlist | Jjba Masterlist | Request Rules | Blog Navigation ↠ part 1

Polnareff is a very very proud man

He’s proud of his hair, his personality, his actions, and most of all his body

He has spent years training and exercising to get it in the peek condition it is in

But now, after Daviolo’s attack, his pride was torn so much worse than his body

So don’t be hurt when he turns away your touches and just wants to be alone during much of his recovery

In his mind, he is less than what he once was and you wouldn’t want a man who was defeated as such

But sit beside him as much as he allows, talk softly to him, tell him how much you love him, bring him his meals

He’ll even try to refuse your help to use the restroom or get in/out of bed. He finds he needs to do these things by himself to prove he isn’t as broken as he is

He’ll only ask for your help on occasion, but mainly to tuck him in at night

But after a while (...probably just a week or so cause this man just needs touch in his life) he’ll softly take your hand in his at breakfast

And he won’t let go until you physically have to for one reason or another

He still won’t let you touch his right hand or his legs or even the scar over his eye

But please caress his cheeks and neck and shoulders and back

Give him all the kisses you want

You’ll slowly start to see his goofy and charming personality peek out from the seriousness he had fallen into because your touch is slowly beginning to heal him

And after a few weeks of these touches, he’ll slowly start to feel his resolve melt and he’ll reach out to feel over your cheek with his prosthetic hand

He’ll allow you to cup it within your own 

Allow you to turn your face to place a soft kiss to the inside of his palm, the robotic hand the Speedwagon Foundation had somehow been able to sneak into the country surprisingly warm against your lips

After that any and all touch is back on the table

He’ll let you rest your hand on his thigh, fingers trailing over it and touching prosthetic here and there

He’ll allow you to help him take on and off his prosthetic legs before getting in and out of bed

Pleaseeeee cuddle the man at night

Pleaseeeee

Kiss his face, rub circles into his back, and hold him close as he falls asleep

While cuddling, don’t be surprised if you feel his hand run over your leg to pull it over his thighs or waist

Because while he used to be able to all but cage you in with his body, he can only truly do that with his arms now so he will be doing everything in his power to keep you close

If he struggles with phantom pains, you are sure to read up and look into how you can help 

One way is to message the limb which makes Polnareff a little panicky, seeing as he still struggles with allowing you to touch his legs and arm

But the pain gets so blinding sometimes he doesn’t have the fight in him to deny you any longer

Your fingers are like heaven, relieving him of his pains with precious and accuracy

When you pull your hands away after some time, he’s grabbing them up and showering them in thousands upon thousands of kisses

Kisses that always end up trailing up your arms to find your lips

He will pull you into his lap and wheel you both around the village’s small hospital

He will not let you up until you need to be standing

Doesn’t really like it when you push him around, preferring the sitting in his lap method, but because he loves you and if he really needs help, he’ll allow it

Always be sure to kiss the back of his neck or cheek before, during, and after though

Lots and lots and LOTS of lap-sitting 

Like you are glued in his lap 24/7

You’ll hold his computer while he does research into the arrow and into those that could help you both defeat Diavolo

Polnareff will rest his chin on your shoulder as he does his research, placing kisses here and there on your cheek and neck that make your skin spark

“I’ll go bring the car around to the front, okay?” You said, after packing what little belongings the both of you held. After months and months of recovery, Polnareff was finally ready to leave the small hospital he had been admitted to and you both were very much ready to leave. “I’ll be right--” A hand grabbing yours had you pausing to look back and find Polnareff sitting there, eyes full of determination.

“We’ll go together to get the car.” He said, lightly tugging on his hand in a way he had done hundreds of times while here at the hospital. You knew exactly what the silent command meant.

“It’ll be faster if I go alone to get the car.” You said, but your feet were carrying you closer to the man you loved. 

“Since when do we do things alone, mon amour?” He responded, a small smile on his lips. You smiled right back, leaning down so you could look more deeply into his gray eyes. 

“Never.” You placed a soft kiss to his lips that had him bringing his other hand up to cup your cheeks, fingers feeling over the skin there in a way that had your heart fluttering like crazy. 

“Let’s get out of here,” Polnareff said once you pulled away from the kiss. He tugged at your hand again and you followed his guidance to sit in his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he began to push you both towards the door. “And please, mon coeur, let us find a place with a decent bathroom. This one was just frightful.” You chuckled planting a smacking kiss on his cheek that had a slight blush dusting over his fair skin.

“Anything for you.” 

!!SPOILERS FOR POLNAREFF'S ENDING!!

So….he’s a turtle now

That’s okay because you don’t care

And you still kiss the top of his little head and pet his shell

Carry him around in your arms

Hug him

Put him in a purse like a chihuahua and pet his little head as you walk around Italy

He can manifest his…body? Spirit? Inside the little room so you can hop in there any time you wish to hang out with him. He can do this because I say he can

You can still physically touch him inside of the little room….because I said so….

He can also change his appearance throughout the years he has been alive BECAUSE I SAID SO AND ANYTHING ELSE IS TOO SAD 

So he’s able to walk up to you, pick you up, and spin you around as he litters kisses to your face

Expect to not really leave the room for a while because his death still haunts him

He’s gonna be so scared his soul might pass on without you, so he’s holding onto you extra tight

The inside of the room is your home now btw 

Will sometimes reach a ghostly hand outside of the turtle to try to hold your hand

I don’t think he would be able to touch you outside of the turtle cause….he’s a ghost…so you can 100% reach your hand inside of the key to hold his hand during a business meeting or out and about

“Oh, what a cute little pet turtle you have there.” A person passing you in the street cooed, stopping you and Polnareff on your way to meet with Giorno. “I used to have a turtle just like this.” They said, reaching a hand out to pet Polnareff’s head from where it peeked out of the purse you carried. 

“Hey!” You snapped, slapping the person’s hand away in the blink of an eye. “Don’t you dare touch my husband.” You hissed, placing a hand over his head to further protect him.

“W-what the hell? What--” But you are storming away before they can finish. 

“You know, I think half of Italy thinks you’re crazy.” Polnareff chuckles, reaching a ghostly hand out to pass it through the one still covering the turtle's head. The feeling was always strange, but it was warm and familiar. He did this in way of letting you know he wanted to hold your hand. To silently beg you to touch me, please. You were more than glad to reach a hand into the key’s red portal to hold it. 

“They think you believe that you have married a turtle.” He chuckled like he believed the situation was completely humorous. 

“I have married a turtle. You are a turtle.” You grumbled, still annoyed that person had tried to touch him. The gall of them.

Polnareff tugged at your hand, dragging your arm further into the hidden room on the turtle's back. You felt his lips kiss the inside of your wrist, traveling further and further upward. Lips that ever so slowly eased the sharp annoyance in your chest.

“Do not remind me, mon amour.” He grumbled, pulling gently at your hand again. You paused in your travels as you took your hand back from him. You heard Polnareff huff at the absence of your hand, but it was quieted as soon as you shoved your head into your bag, it appearing inside the little room hidden away in the key on the turtle’s back. 

Polnareff stood on a chair, his frown turned into the brightest, goofiest smile you couldn’t help but match upon seeing your face. He stood on his tippy toes, cupping your cheeks in his hands before placing a quick kiss to your lips. 

….all anyone on that street saw was you with your head in a bag, voice muffled by the material as you talked to….was that a turtle?

[farmerstarter]

"Songs the Bachelors and Bachelorettes Listen To" Headcanons (Part 1: Bachelors)

This is inspired by @stardew-shitposterino ! I saw their post, where you can read here, and I wanted my own take on it. This was super fun to write. I'll have part 2 with the bachelorettes posted tomorrow. Also, the wildest shit just happened, I got into a biking accident lol! Anyways. Thanks for stopping by! All likes and reblogs are appreciated 🌷🤍

ʚ🏈ɞ ˚ · . Alex :

🏈 I'd like to imagine Alex would listen to the most bubbly songs while exercising. He plays Cupid by FIFTY FIFTY while lifting weights.

🏈 Half his music playlist is filled with music that Haley listens to because he can't be bothered to curate his own.

🏈 Hypes himself up before practicing gridball by listening to "Eye of The Tiger" by Survivor and ends his practice by listening to "The Final Countdown" by Europe.

🏈 Doesn't shuffle his songs so he knows he's supposed to do one exercise when a certain song plays. Like, "Oh it's 'OMG' by NewJeans, I should be doing push ups rn"

🏈 Knows old songs by Nat King Cole, The Ronettes, and Percy Sledge to name a few because his grandparents like to listen to them during the weekends.

ʚ📜ɞ ˚ · . Elliott :

📜 Knows Sea Shanties because of Willy. Elliott reads on the bench by Willy's Shop while Willy was fishing and the fisherman just started singing. It would be cute to imagine that it happened because Elliott was tapping his foot in a slow rhythm and Willy started singing along with it.

📜 Elliott's knowledge on sea shanties gets even more deeper the more he hangs out with Willy. Willy invites Elliott to join him on his boat to do some deep fishing and Elliott knows like ten sea shanties by the time they get back to shore.

📜 He knows some classical pieces and plays them on his piano when he doesn't want to write for the day. Sometimes he'd compose his own songs on the spot.

📜 Dude goes main character mode and listens to songs by Cigarettes After Sex, like "Heavenly" and "John Wayne", sitting on the sand while watching the sun rise.

📜 He's a hopeless romantic, he listens to a lot of love songs. Ranging from old to new love songs, Elliott enjoys listening to the lyrics to somehow get inspired by them. It's funny to think that some of Elliott's compliments are low-key lyrics. Like, "I wish you bluebirds in the spring and to give your heart a song to sing" ('I Wish You Love' by Lisa Ono) and "Mine to have when the now and the here disappear" ('Again' by Doris Day). And it's completely unintentional. He doesn't even realize he's doing that. He just listens to romance songs too much.

ʚ🛩️ɞ ˚ · . Harvey :

🛩️ Listens to The Carpenters. "Yesterday Once More", "Top of the World", "I Won't Last A Day Without You" all that stuff. He plays it in the clinic but only when Maru isn't there because he doesn't want to bother her with his song choices. Sometimes, he'd hum out the tune while examining patients. He just enjoys how soothing they sound.

🛩️ Speaking of soothing, he likes listening to slow songs to fall asleep to. Has a whole playlist for it too that's exactly 8 hours long. He goes straight to sleep when the first song finishes and wakes up just when the last song ends.

🛩️ He has a Walkman Cassette Player. He uses it when he does his aerobics classes. Listens to just about any song on it, really. Anything that makes it seem like time is going faster is great. OH. Wait. Maybe, the ladies end up having Harvey's cassette play on a stationary cassette player that Caroline has after Harvey lets them listen to it. They all found Harvey's song choices delightful.

🛩️ He offers music therapy. They're informal sessions at most but Harvey spends a lot of time making personalized playlists. Like full on carefully and heavily curated to match specific needs and moods for his patients. It skyrockets his music knowledge to the roof.

ʚ🎸ɞ ˚ · . Sam :

🎸 He has the most random and eclectic music taste. Ranges from Rock Music and Skate Punk to Vocaloid and Video Game music. He'd be listening to "Welcome to the Jungle" by Guns N' Roses for one moment then listen to the "Donky Kong Country Theme" the next.

🎸 He tries to copy the guitar riffs in some songs, not stopping until he can play it in one go. By the time he's done that countless of times, both Jodi and Vincent know what song he's playing based on the first few seconds of it.

🎸 Is the one to initiate a sing along in the Stardrop Saloon on Fridays. And he's always down to do karaoke. He's even suggested some more music-centered activities to do in town events. And he managed to convince Mayor Lewis to have him be DJ during the Summer Luau but only when he promised not to add anything disgusting into the potluck.

🎸 Teaches Vincent to play the drums when the kid doesn't have any classes. It all started with Sam letting his brother hit the crash cymbal for the end of a song he was playing. Then it all went up from there. Sam starts with the basics then lets Vincent play whatever. It's a noisy few weeks in the household but Jodi appreciates her boys spending more time together.

🎸 He has playlists for all situations.

ʚ👾ɞ ˚ · . Sebastian :

👾 This dude listens to Bonobo and Aphex Twin when programming. Better yet, Sam made him a playlist specifically for when he's programming and Sebastian doesn't skip any of the songs. That's a lie. He skips the songs that Sam put in there to mess with him like "CBAT" by Hudson Mohawke and Sam's poorly sung cover of "Fall For You" by Secondhand Serenade.

👾 You know how some of us would stay up until 3 am to complete a project before a deadline and listen to energetic songs while doing them so we won't fall asleep? Sebastian does that. Songs like "Caramelldansen" by the Caramella Girls, "Bumblebee" by Bambee, and "Superstar" by Toy-Box to name a few. Just the idea of Sebastian hunched over his computer with those songs playing while Sam is fully jamming in the background is great.

👾 Listens to the dirtiest songs with the straightest face ever.

👾 I'm all for villagers interacting with each other so consider Sebastian and Elliott being unlikely acquaintances after Sebastian showed Elliott the wonders of the synthesizer.

👾 When his mind wanders, he ends up humming out the tune that Abigail plays with her flute.

ʚ🐣ɞ ˚ · . Shane :

🐣 Sings to his chickens. He does, you know he does. Even sings in accents when he's bored enough. Jas found out he does that after going in Shane's coop, thinking a stranger was trying to steal her uncle's chickens. But no, it's just Shane singing "9 to 5" by Dolly Parton with a British accent.

🐣 Always has his headphones on during work at the Joja Market so no one would bother him. There wouldn't even be a song playing, he just wears them. One time Sam tried to get his attention but Shane outright ignores him even when Sam pointed out his headphones aren't even connected to anything.

🐣 I like to think that Shane is a fan of Indie Folk and he listens to songs by Bon Iver when walking to work. "Beach Baby" is his favorite song.

🐣 Since Shane's always the last one to leave the Saloon, Gus would let him pick what songs to play in the jukebox until the saloon closes. Even after Shane stopped drinking alcohol, he and Gus would spend time together at the late hours of the night talking, listening to whatever song Shane played.

[saltyyuuri]

Sova x reader; Lucky catch pt.2!

part 1 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6

word: 3700 ish

🍀lucky catch🍀

song (It was stuck in my head all morning): Apt. by Rose- Bruno Mars

NO WARNINGS

note: I was planning to make Lucky catch in a few parts- idk how many- I had the idea on a whim and so- thanks to my job being dead ASF still I shall continue :D. Anyways, enjoy!

🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀

And so, You finally started to work as an actual Valorant agent, now back at the protocol's headquarters; you had set up your own dorm room, making it all cozy to your liking. You had set up LEDS, fairy lights, a few succulents and candles, a bookshelf full of your favorite books, some trinkets and cool things you had found while traveling around- like crystals you had found yourself, a twig in the shape of a lizard, a fossil and a few other things- making a warm and cozy room for yourself. You didn't mind the randomness of some objects displayed- it was yours and anyways, who was actually going to complain? It's your room-

Training was also quite interesting, as when you had first joined, you had to go through some assessment training, seeing just how your powers worked and also assessing your body strength. It was quite interesting to test your body strength as you never really had a number to put on it- your main source of training came from practicing your techniques with your movement and speed while using your vine to swing, climb and grab stuff around.

Turns out you had not only quite the body strength from acting like a knock off spiderman, but also turns out you had a lot of stamina- like a lot. You were able to keep up with Neon for much longer than anyone could expect- sure, you weren't on her level of high energy, but you could still hold your own on following her around, swinging around with your vine while she sprinted like a squirrel on red bull. It impressed most the agents in protocol someone was able to keep her pace for longer than a few minutes, and that's just one of the things you did that earned you a lot of respect in the protocol.

And then of course, your favorite thing to do since you settled into the headquarters; messing with Sova. You would've thought that after settling in, having him as your trainer for the assessments and have him literally scold you like a teacher scolds an unruly student- that maybe pestering him wasn't the best idea. But something about pushing him until he inevitably makes you pay for being a brat- it amused you to no ends. Maybe it was because being forced to push harder in training, the extra strength testings he'd do or the extra endurance exercises- you didn't mind them, knowing you would be more than capable to tank in what he threw your way.

And once more, that's what you were up to, in one of your multiple training sessions with the Russian blondie, in which he was making you do the plank and alternating with a few different exercises. ''Damn princess, this feels so dull.'' You commented- and of course calling him princess was somehow a nickname that had stuck no matter the time that had passed since you had saved his ass from falling off the tall building. ''You really won't cut it with that nickname-'' Sova started with a slightly annoyed tone- and when you heard him mutter in his mother tongue, you knew he was about to throw a curveball your way during training. ''What can I say, princess? suits ya-'' You responded with slight sarcasm and a small snort, grinning from your spot on the floor. He was starting to glare down at you, and you knew that you were about to get a harder training session.

''Back in plank position.'' Sova said firmly, his arms crossed. He didn't take out the chronometer this time, already hinting he was going to push you once more. ''Whatever you want, princess.'' You retorted as you got into position, toes and hands supporting your body weight in the plank position. It wasn't too hard to do, though this exercise was the type to get worse with time. So you steadied you breathing as you prepared to hold this position for an undetermined amount of time. What you didn't expect was the additional weight suddenly added to your back, letting out a slightly surprised noise. You looked up at the mirror wall in front of you in the training room, seeing that Sova was sitting on your back at this point.

''Motherfucker-'' You mumbled out as you went back to focusing on you breathing- because even though he was only sitting and not putting his full weight, he was still pretty heavy- and it felt so much worse while doing the plank. ''Excuse you?'' He spoke up, an eyebrow cocking at the cuss you had tossed out from his additional weight- of course not letting it slide. He instead adjusted himself so his full body weight was on you, now letting you have to plank for an undetermined time while supporting this 200 something pound man on your back.

His full weight made it much more difficult, and also forcing you to shut up as you needed to focus on your breathing rather than your retorts. Anyways, wasting breath on retorts now would break your focus and ultimately break your form. And if there was one thing to remember about you- is that you were resilient. You let your head fall to face the floor, shutting your eyes as you focused, tuning out anything else. You felt aching in your abs, which was also climbing up your legs and arms, and at every breath you slowly took, the aching was worsening into a burning sensation. Every extra second seemed to stretch on as the pain in your muscles became more and more vivid- yet still refusing to fall.

''Your holding up well. But how long can you actually hold? maybe what, 30 more seconds at best?'' Sova taunted, glancing up at the clock on the wall of the training room. Sure, he wasn't timing it on the chrono, but he was paying attention to the clock, counting the time of your hold that way. You had already lasted a whole 2 minutes with him on your back, and from how you were starting to sweat up, he assumed you would let go soon. His attention turned to the mirror, observing you through it, seeing how your head was dropped towards the floor, ponytail dangling down and brushing the mat on the ground. Your breathing seemed to start to become a bit more rough and he noticed a faint tremble in your legs.

You didn't react to his taunt, fully tuning out the Russian man as you focused solely on your breathing. You refused to give his the satisfaction of being right on his call out- you didn't want to give him any grounds to being right, you wanted the last laugh on this. You felt the vivid burn starting to take over your limbs more and more, ignoring it becoming more of a challenge as seconds ticking by. You could feel the sweat beading on your face, dripping off to splatter onto the mat below- feeling sweat pool through your clothes from where Sova's body weight was pressed onto. You couldn't care less that he was quite literally sitting into your sweat- your pride was not set onto that detail.

Sova's eyes darted back to the clock on the wall, watching as seconds ticked by, slowly running to the 30 second marker he had guessed you would drop at. But every extra second that ticked by, he was impressed to see your resilience to hold, your refusal to give up passed the marker given. As if to prove a point, an unsaid one between the two of you, where his taunts became a challenge to you. He kept count of the time, watching as the small tremble in your arms and legs seemed to worsen, but still somehow refusing to fall, even after the 3 minute marker. He waited, though he was starting to feel your sweat seep through his own clothes, he too, was now curious to see just how long you would hold simply out of spite.

A few more seconds ticked by, and finally, at 3 minutes and 22 seconds, you fell, letting out a slight strangle noise, almost resembling one of a deflated squeaky dog tog. To be fair, when you fell, Sova also fell on top of you, effectively squishing you. He was quick to get up- a bit concerned by the noise you had just made- now crouched besides you. ''3 minutes and 22 seconds, that was impressive... But are you okay? That fall did not seem pleasant-'' He asked, his voice tinged with concern as he waited for a response on your end.

''Pain...'' You mumbled out- still laying face first into the mat as you mumbled out your words between breaths. The fall definitely didn't help- Sova's extra weight seemed to have knocked the wind out of you. You could also feel cramps slowly make their way to your legs from pushing a bit too far this time, once again. You tried to take smaller breaths to not have to deal with the pain in your back from getting the wind knocked out of you. This was probably the one time you thought to yourself 'maybe I should have stopped a bit before.'

''You pushed too far, (Y-N). Seems like the consequences to your actions caught up to you.'' Sova said with a small sigh, looking over your laid out body- he could literally see your leg muscles start to contract, a sign a cramp would follow suit soon enough. Instead of continuing with his reprimands, he moved to sit behind you, lifting your legs with his hands so he could properly position himself to stretch them for you. Moving slowly, he flexed your legs to stretch them out, hands massaging the muscles before they could start to form any painful cramps.

You were still focusing on catching your breath, but definitely grateful that he was working on your legs to avoid any injury. You didn't have the energy at the moment to move on your own, so having him do it for you was something you would have to thank him for afterwards. You spent a few more minutes laying face down on the mat while he stretched and massaged your legs, chasing away and cramps that could have followed. You finally propped yourself onto your elbows once breathing wasn't as hard, feeling a sliver of energy returning to you. You looked into the mirror on the wall, seeing that the Russian agent was focus on what he was doing behind you, watching as he held your ankle with a hand, using his other to push your leg to the desired spot and hold it like so to stretch.

You quietly observed him for a few moments, your breathing returning to normal as he quietly worked on you. You finally broke the silence, voice a bit quieter from the lack of energy. ''You make it look like I'm one of those really bendy dolls- the ones with multiple joints to bend in inhumane ways.'' You commented as you watched him work, just a slight hint of a tease in your voice- but nothing near how it was earlier. ''Well, you are pretty flexible, considering your muscle mass.. So I can see why it looks that way-'' Sova muttered out as he finished up his work behind you, laying both your legs down straight before getting up, fetching you a water bottle to sip on.

You finally turned yourself, sitting with your legs straight out to let them rest a while longer. You grabbed the water bottle he handed you, taking a few small sips before speaking up once more. ''Thank you princess- needed that.'' You said, setting down the water bottle as you looked up at Sova, who let out a deep sigh. ''Why do I even try- You really won't stop with that stupid nickname no matter what!'' He exclaimed, a look of slight annoyance and defeat on his face. ''Sadly for you, it kinda stuck... So yeah, it's just coming out on it's own at this point.'' You said with a small laugh, a tired smile making its way to your lips. ''Of course it did...''He muttered out, shaking his head in slight disbelief. ''...On a different note, are you okay to walk back to your dorm on your own?'' He asked as he gestured to your legs, concern etched onto his face as he set aside his annoyance over the nickname.

''You offering to carry me? Oh me oh my, aren't I just the luckiest-'' You said as a grin slowly grew. And his concerned expression changed to one of annoyance once more, facepalming as you spoke. Of course, you would find anything he said to twist it into a tease or a taunt of any kind for him- it was stronger than you. ''I take that back, if you have the energy to mock me, you have the energy to walk.'' Sova replied firmly, turning to start packing his gym bag up now that training was over. You giggled as you watched him leave, annoyed and seeming bothered with you, once again. ''You're adorable, princess!'' You taunted once more as he left, grinning as you spoke. Now alone in the training room, you took some extra time to finally push yourself up to head back to your own dorm, more than ready to shower and crash out.

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Back in your dorm, crashed in bed, you had Neon in your room, chattering away with you- she had texted you minutes after you were out the shower and relaxing in your bed, all cozied up in pajamas already. You couldn't careless about changing as she came to chat, she herself was already in pajamas too- sitting on one end of your bed as you were comfily resting on the other end, pillows and blankets serving to make comfier sitting spots for you both. You two were gossiping and talking away- what you two were often doing in general.

''Have you heard, Yoru has started to like- semi flirt with Skye...If you can call it flirting-'' Neon said, a laugh escaping her as she spoke, a grin etched onto her face. ''God- what did he say something like 'you're a pretty flower, flower girl'? no even that's too corny for him-'' You said as you were trying to imagine just what flirting was for Yoru. ''Even worse, he just said you look better today.' in the driest tone ever, than teleported away. Like- it was an attempt but even I was cringing at the scene.'' Neon said, grinning widely as she shook her head. ''Oh god- that's... Actually that's what I would expect from him-'' You snorted, also grinning in an amused way. ''What did Skye say though?'' You asked curiously, wanting to know more about this gossip.

''Well she kinda spaced out for a second... Then yelled out 'The fuck you mean 'better today?'' then went to look for him. No idea what happened afterwards though, but she looked pissed.'' Neon said once more accompanied with a laugh, finding the whole thing amusing more than anything. ''Sounds about right.'' You retorted with a giggle, the conversation dying down for a short moment as you both giggled at the two older agents poor way of flirting.

''So... You and Sova-'' Neon started off, a small mischievous look in her eyes as she diverted the conversation, grinning. ''Hey now, I thought there was no friendly fire when it came to gossip!'' You retorted with a small smile, knowing exactly where this was going. ''Oh come on! You two have a damn good dynamic- Like excuse me for having hope!'' Neon retorts, her hands up defensively, still grinning widely. ''But he's clueless- I called him adorable more times than I can count, try to train with him at any opportunity- hell I am even doing the morning runs with him- And you know how much I hate getting up early!'' You started to list out some of the attempts you made towards Sova, all which had been met with cluelessness from the blonde man.

Because if there was something that you learned the hard way- is that Sova seems to pass off all those actions as simple friendly gestures. You could probably say 'I love you' and he wouldn't catch on. That was the slightly exasperating part of having a crush on him- which is why you now just took fun in pestering him. It was your mental way of getting 'payback' for his oblivion, as childish as it sounds. ''Yikes, and he still isn't even slightly suspicious? Isn't he supposed to be the most perspective guy in the protocol?'' Neon said, following her remark with a small whistle. ''I know right? Hell, I bet I could slide in a 'I love you' and he would brush it off and continue with the conversation like nothing had happened.''

''I low-key want to see that happen-'' Neon said, a small giggle escaping her at the mental image she was making herself of the situation. And before you could retort anything, someone was knocking at your dorm door, making the two of you quiet down for a moment. Neon jumped up, heading to open the door as the dorms were heavily sound proofed- so calling out to come in wasn't going to cut it. Neon flung open the dorm door a bit too energetically, The door open wide so you could also see who was there.

And just your luck, Sova stood a bit surprised in the doorway, looking at Neon as if she was alien for a brief moment before regaining composure, eyes darting up to look in the dorm. ''Good evening-...'' He started, eyes finally finding you cooped up in one corner of your bed, in your pajamas and looking very cozy. ''I was bringing over food for (Y-N), I had a hunch she forgot to eat after training.'' He continued, raising his hands to show off the plate of warm food he had in hand. Neon moved from the doorway, letting the tall Russian in with a smile ''I can confirm she hasn't- and for her defense, I also forgot she didn't eat.'' Neon said, shrugging slightly. You chuckled, shaking your head slightly.

''Thanks for digging me a deeper grave, Neon.'' You responded with a small eyeroll- though not actually annoyed at her, you knew she meant well and ultimately, if was your own responsibility to feed yourself. ''No problem!'' Neon retorts with a wide grin. Sova looked at the two of you, letting out a sigh of discouragement as he walked in, making his way to your bed. He gently set the hot plate near you, finally revealing the food.

''It's pelmeni, I made extra. Now eat up, you strained yourself hard during training, and you need food to recuperate.'' He slightly scolded you, but his tone left no room to argument. Not that you would, the moment you smelled the food, hunger hit you like a wave, picking up the plate to eat a few of the meat dumplings. They were definitely tasty, and it was easy to tell they were home made with their slightly wonky forms. ''Thank you Sova!'' You said between bites, mouth slightly full as you spoke up, digging in once more. And for once, you hadn't called him princess- calling him by his agent name. ''No problem, (Y-N).'' He said- his tone softening slightly from his scolding and firm one. He was pleased to see you eating without complaints, stepping back.

He seemed to be heading back out, already walking back to the entrance of your dorm room. Neon looked your way, giving you a slight panicked move- pointing to Sova, then you, then making a heart with her hands. The girl already wanted to test out that theory? you grinning, more than happy to oblige on that. ''Oh, Sova, did you make these yourself?'' You called out, trying to strike a conversation first to allow a smoother delivery. ''I did, why so?'' He asked as he turned to look at you over his shoulder, a look of curiosity painting over his face.

''Wait so you hand made this meal... Just because you wanted to make sure I had something for dinner?'' You asked again, a small smile forming over your face. For some reason, he cocked a brow, slight suspicion that you were up to something- you often were anyways- and he was never safe. ''I did... And I did well, because you did, in fact, forget to eat. Again.'' Hew stated, his tone slightly firm as he spoke. ''You are too sweet for your own good, princess.'' You said with a small giggle- fueled by the eyeroll and exasperated sigh leaving his lips. ''There it is.... The stupid nickname.'' He grumbled out, turning back to the door to leave.

''Hey, it's a good thing!'' You replied with a small laugh at his annoyance. ''But goodbye then, Princess. Love you-'' You tossed out, watching his back carefully as he walked out the room, wanting to see if he would react- or even retort anything. Neon's attention was also glued to Sova, watching as the blond man annoyedly made his way out. ''Yeah yeah, goodbye.'' He mumbled out, not even pausing or seeming to notice what you had said, leaving the dorm and shutting the door.

Neon slowly turned to you, her face slightly stunned before she slowly started to crack up. ''Ain't no way- He didn't even pause! What???" She exclaimed, stunned and laughing as she looked your way. You had to pause eating for the moment, also cracking up on your end. ''I knew it- I fucking knew it!'' You replied as you also were struck with a fit of laughter. ''Wow, okay, I can fully understand why you two haven't had any advancement- jeez!'' Neon said through her laughter once more, shaking her head.

''Yep... getting him to understand is probably going to end up looking like a Bollywood low budget rom-com. May as well get popcorn, Neon!''

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[msbhagirathi]

IPKKND LIVE BLOG SEASON 1 [Epi. 7]

Hi. Aa jaao. You already know what do we do here. Baith gaye? Chalo start. Acha. Ruko. Saath mein popcorns liya? Lol. :P Chalo aao ab start karte hein, serious :)

1. Bitwa's face tho. He seems to be so damn irritated. Anyways.

2. Uhhh.. Bitwa.. Your wife Khushi is talking about the harkat that you did back in Lucknow, a day or two ago. Don't play ignorant now, okay? I know, you very well understand what is she tryna say, uhh-huhhh. Acting smart.

3. And what the freaking hell was with that line, Bitwa? "Toh mere har kaam mein taang araana band karo." When did SHE taang araao in your 'kaam'? I don't remember. Is she already disturbing you in your sleep? Have you already started falling for her? I am so sorry to say this. But. You are such a gone case, Bitwa. Lol. Whatever.

4. You are tryna intimidate her but I think the one getting more intimidated is YOU, alone my dear Bitwa. She is very much at peace right now. Whatever.

5. Look at that two seconds satisfying smile, Bitwa flashes, when Khushi says, "Phir paisa?" Lol. He is definitely enjoying this.

6. Tryna provoke her, are we, Bitwa?

7. Look at his face when Khushi is giving her monologue of khuddari and udhaar nahi lete and all that. He is so freaking enjoying this. His face's like 'Her whole life is gonna feel like a lie to her once she knows the price money.'

8. Khushi ~very confidently so~ picks up her basta to fish out 'the price money'. She is actually ~oh so innocent~ y'all. Sometimes I feel like pulling her cheeks so hard. Kucchi pucchi ku you kiddo, you haven't even seen your neighborhood states, forget about seeing the world.

9. Actually, this fact might have further intrigued him more, that she is an eighteen year old, fresh out of school, middle class girl ~a literal nobody~ in front of him and yet her zeal, confidence and enthusiasm is unmatchable.

10. "Pacchis hazaar." and all the color rushes out of her face and she gives him a side glance like 'Duh. Really!? This giant oldie will take THAT MUCH for repairing?'

11. Arnav feels like he should cut some slack off for this girl, after all she have had to endure a lot because of his tape fiasco as she subtly hinted at when the conversation had begun.

12. So. Instead of further taking money from her, he decides to help her in his own ~I am the knight in shining armor for a damsel in distress like you~ (In one word: ARROGANT) way. He. Read it carefully. He GRABS her arm ~with that haq~ (excuse me sir? care to explain?) and places a new crisp one thousand rupee note and closes her palm. Uff. I will die of the intensity of haq he is exercising over her and the way she lets him do so without snatching away her hand. (Note that she would always snatch away her hand whenever Shyam would try to do something of that sort.)

13. "Khuddari ki baatein humesha bohot sasti hoti hain aur paisa bohot mehenga. Tum bhi yahin ho aur main bhi. We'll see." Kyun Bitwa? What happened to your two second old suggestion for Khushi to return back to Lucknow with the 'leftover money'? Do you not want your wife her to leave? Do you already want your wife her to stay around you as much as possible? Tum kya see karoge Bitwa hum tohka see karihein iske baad se haan.

14. "....Haan ab theek hai..." Kya theek hai Bitwa? Ya phir more like kaun theek hai? Tum? Ya woh fashion show wali ladki? Kya janna chah rahe the tum Bitwa? That Khushi is fine or not? And what happened to your 'das minute mein pahunch jaunga wali meeting' for which you couldn't 'waste' your precious time for the puja this morning? Who oh who will answer my goddamn questions? BTW, so men really do forget everything after meeting their wives huh? And I see our Bitwa is no exception. Lol. Whatever.

15. Wah wah 'tuuu ruru tuutuu rururu'(Lol. I have no fucking idea why did I add the bg sound for her here. Lol. Please bear with me.) MAMIJIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII. Belcome Homes Mamiji.

16. Hahahaahahaahha. See y'all I seriously lost it jab mamiji ne touchwood bolke apna sir hi touch karliya. Lol. Whatever.

17. Vyjanthimala, huh? Really? Mamiji? Ok. Wait. Y'all. Lemme show you who is Vyjanthimala.

*runs to google to search up her name coz has no idea herself who she is*

*skims through the photos*

*is awestruck by her beauty*

*debates about the selection of photo*

*decides one and takes screenshot*

*adds it here along with the link*

Presenting y'all.

Vyjayanthimala.

Indian actress and dancer.

This is Vyjanthimala. Of course, this is an old picture (She is ninety years old now. Wow. Can you believe it? This young beauty is ninety years old now.)

So. Yeah. Now you can see for yourself, who is she comparing herself with. Such heights of flattery for your own self, mamiji? Not good. (Utkarsha ma'am is of course very beautiful. I am just pointing out the character flaw, given to her, of over-glorifying herself and her sun and her huzbend and her phamily.)

18. She really 'thued' at her own reflection y'all. Lmao. I can't-*wheezes away for the next four business days*

19. Lol. I love mamaji and mamiji's banter y'all. The way mamaji compliments her and keeps his mouth shut when she gets irritated. Lmao. One of the relationships I so love throughout the show.

20. "Itni muskil se toh auda banaye, usko aise hi jaane de?" A little glossary here. Ohada means (as explained by my friend @phuljari di) (pad/sthaan/padwi in hindi) status like we see here mamiji had to do a lot to gain/earn a place in the Raizada Household. So it is actually very important for her to always look 'tip-taap' as she believes that only then, she would be accepted as a Raizada bahu if she 'looks' like it. I hope I was able to make it clear.

21. And here comes naniji. Looking for some Lakshmi.

22. Okay. So. One more thing. See how mamiji literally acts like a teenager as she kind of rebels against her order of coming down immediately. So she refuses to follow her order and tells her husband that she would arrive a few minutes later. Hmm. Speaks a lot about the kind of relation mamiji and her saas-o-maa share.

23. And look how naniji dismisses her as well saying that she isn't waiting for her but for the children.

24. See? You noticed how Bitwa tossed away Aakash's question about 'uss din wali ladki'? This also means nobody except Anjali Di know about the Lucknow fiasco. Also, look how he shook his head when Aakash offered to take legal action against her? Ufff. I will die of this protective-ness and possessive-ness already.

25. Do you too find Arnav's face particularly hot and delicious in this scene where he is talking to Aakash? Also I am kicking my legs and squealing at that dent wali line. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah. God. Oh. God. Please save me.

26. And we are immediately taken to that 'uss din ladki' who has just returned from her trip to the pharmacy shop.

27. Shut up buaji. She had gone out running, only FOR YOU. Show some grateful-ness. Dammit.

28. We are again taken back to Shantivan.

29. The smart-ass Raizada brothers walk in, with full tashan. Everyone quickly dismiss themselves and nani and Arnav are left alone.

30. Wait. Look at nani's expression. Arnav gets the hint that she wants to speak to him about something. And the atmosphere quickly turns awkward as Arnav struggles to maintain small-talk. Asking about her trip and the facilities provided.

31. Nani explains him that she went to a pilgrimage, a place where one needs to do some hard work in order to receive the fruits of their prayers. Then she continues to say that this time she had gone there for him and Arnav is surprised, "Mere liye?" Look at the way he asks it. He definitely did not expect it.

32. But then nani continues to speak cryptically. "Jiss raftaar se aap chalat hain, uss raftaar per swayam ke alawa sab kuch dhundlaiye jaat hai." Arnav counters back, "Nani mujhe sab kuch saaf-saaf dikh raha hai." "Galat jagah dekh rahe hain aap. Sirf aage hi nahi nazar ghumaakar piche bhi dekh lijiye. Har pidhi aane wali pidhi ko kuch sikha ke jaat hai. Lekin jab raftaar thodi dhimi ho tabhi sahi galat ki pehchaan hui sakat hai." I want to process these lines some more then will let you know my views on this monologue.

33. Anjali di brings a white kurta for him which will undoubtedly go to the un-used collection of ethnics Arnav has.

34. She somehow senses his mood which is still sour from the lines nani spoke to him a few moments ago and the encounter he had with Khushi on the road. And di yet again reminds him of her. She tries to know about the incident but Arnav dodges it away by saying, "Kuch khaas nahi."

35. Khushi again has to bear the brunt of buaji's anger.

36. Buaji tell me one thing. Uncle ko koi uncle nahi bolega toh kya bolega. Uff. Somebody please help her.

37. And the moment she reminds her of 'paisa'. Khushi again immerses herself in the world of Laard guvunur and his pacchis hazaar(her oh-so-sweet escapism y'all ;) ).

38. Both the sisters go to the market to buy some sabzi. But Khushi cannot think anything else other than her woh. She literally said it. "Jiji WOH phirse mila tha." At this point, Khushi is just a lost case. Payal rightly points out her 'chain' has been 'chhined' by that LG.

39. Khushi explains her that her 'chain' will not be back until and unless she pays back the pacchis hazaar that she owes him.

40. Ew! Shyam enters with an umbrella. Ew. Ew. Ew. His cryptic words irks me to no extent. So maybe he had indeed planned the fight with those rogues in order to ensure that her parents would send her to Delhi. Whatever. Bye. I don't watch precaps.

P.S.: No P.S. Ghar jaao. Bye.

Previous

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[linguenuvolose]

2024 goals - March progress

I can't claim I focussed on my goals at all this month... Idk I don't really see them as goals either they're just kinda.. things I keep some track of. I know I said this last month but I think April will be more productive because this month for sure spring will feel like it's here (we're still waiting for the trees to turn green, it snowed A Lot last week, just to give you an idea of the situation).

Anyway love and light below are some reflections on my specific goals :)

Get back into a reading routine

I've kept on reading Orlando by Virginia Woolf and I only have 35 pages left. I'm still not consistent at all with it, I read a bit about once a week. I find it so hard to reach for the book instead of my phone, it's annoying because I really do enjoy the book.

Meet friends at least once a month

I've had some good hangouts this month, mostly others that have been reaching out. I'm happy because one of my friends came to my boyfriend's show and was so excited about it and I'm happy they are bonding! In April I have plans to go visit a friend who lives in another city (one of my closest friends who will also meet my boyfriend for the first time) and I'm also planning to reach out to another friend!

Do the damn exercises for my back :(

I did them like.... 2,5 times :( not good at all. And my salsa classes stopped in the middle of the month and I've decided to not continue so it's not looking perfect. Hopefully with the extra light we get now I can have more energy to do them in the evening.

Get better at Portuguese

I signed up for the Portuguese course at uni <3333 Hopefully I'll get in and I'll be able to do that in the fall. I studied in some way 11 days of the month which isn't nothing!! Started doing Clozemaster and I really like it, especially on the writing mode (let's be honest, all my knowledge in Romance languages makes the "choose from these four options" a walk in the park for me). It's super annoying that the free plan only allows you 30 words a day. What I really should do is produce more, write little texts and stuff.

Get my license

We're still waiting for the permit to be able to practice driving with my boyfriend but it's taking a while... I've had 2 lessons though (was supposed to have 3 but one got cancelled). I don't know that I feel that I'm getting any better but I do really have to start studying the theory. It would be nice to talk to my instructor also and ask him what he thinks a reasonable time frame would be for me. In my head I'm seeing myself getting the license during the summer but who knows.

Get back into the habit of going on walks

I have been on some walks this month but more in the sense of I am somewhere and walk a bit instead of taking the closest subway. But I mean now with the change of the hour and the warmer weather I for sure am seeing myself going on more walks!

Go to the theatre more (youth discount my beloved) and also to some museums!

I went to the Maurizio Cattelan exposition at the Modern art museum because my friend had a free entrance with her job. I actually really liked it! Unfortunately I was in a bit of a hurry so I didn't have time to meander or look at the other expositions but I would love to go back! They do the free entry on Friday evenings so I think I might go!

Improve my sleeping schedule

I actually compiled my statistics for this this month (yay!). Slept an average of 7h15 but if we just look at work nights it's 6h20. Not great... It's not something I've paid particular attention to this month but I think I should. I think a goal could be maybe sleep before 1 more often (this month it was 3 times hihihi ma come siamo messi raga).

[mizumech]

Day 2: Sweet/Salty

Hi! This is mizumech back for treebarkweek 2024! I wasn’t really around for Day 1 because I didn’t like how it turned out but I’m somewhat happy with Day 2, even though it’s rather experimental for me.

Without further ado, this is “le festin” at 3565 words long! I reserve all rights to put this up on ao3 and editing. Enjoy! :)

—

i. sweetberry jam

A Black Isle specialty. Sweet and long-lasting, preparation is truly an exercise in warding off temptation.

On the day the sweet-berry brambles were due to become overipe, Martyn watched as Ren gathered them all with old falconry gloves and put them into a bucket.

As is his duty, Martyn goes over to help.

How can he not?

When Martyn goes over to ask, Ren looks almost like a vampire of old tales, with red berry juice running down his chin and a sharp smile.

Yet, he is not scared. He smiles too, as he goes down to the well to draw a bucket for later.

~

When Ren comes back to the kitchen, he washes the berries in the bucket before inviting Martyn to help him to mix the portioned-out sugar and fruit.

“Back in the Black Isles,” Ren tells Martyn as he puts the berries and a third of the sugar to a modified bowl, “We would normally use glowstone dust to thicken this and add glow berries for acidity, but we can make do.”

Ren then takes two wooden pestles and hands one to Martyn, enthusiastically starting to pound the berries into the sugar.

Martyn shouts as the juice gets onto his shirt, but joins in too, bringing his pestle down onto the yet-to be macerated berries.

~

The reddish pulp goes into a glass jar and the cap is screwed on, before they realise they forgot to add all the leftover sugar back in.

Ren sighs.

After that, both Ren and Martyn take turns to try and open the jar, using cloth, forks, axe heads and teeth.

They don’t succeed.

On Ren’s thirteenth try, Martyn secretly sweeps some of the sugar into the palm of his hand, the ideas of a prank starting to form in his mind.

As Ren wraps his whole arm around the jar cap, Martyn takes aim. The amount of sugar he has doesn’t have the same weight as a snowball or an enderpearl, but the sweat from his palm has created some sort of shell that helps with the feel.

The sugar ‘ball’ nails Ren in the shoulder and Ren, to Martyn’s delight, whirls around with a dramatic gasp.

“My Hand! Must you betray me with something so sweet? You’ve just ruined me flannel!”

Martyn can only laugh and duck as Ren gathers his own ammunition.

~

Eventually, the jar finally opens, and they start sweeping the sugar back into the jar. 

It’s terribly domestic to Martyn, reminiscent of the times he used to spend sweeping snow off roofs and driveways with a daughter he’s very sure he once had but can’t quite recall the face of.

They’ve wasted about a cane-worth of sugar, but none of that really matters when they’re having so much fun, because they can always just devote a day to making more.

~

“What? All this work and I don’t even get a taste?”

“Guess you’ll just have to live long enough to taste it!”

“What if I want it now?”

“Patience, laddie. We’re going to put this underground and let the sugar draw out all the juices, and only I can uncap the jar to check on it, you got that? You can have the leftover berries if you want, though!”

Fine.

He pretends to pout as he takes a berry and rolls in sugar before popping it in his mouth. It’s not like he doesn’t also have secrets he keeps from Ren.

Some things are too important to be shared.

ii. horse curry

A Tumble Town specialty that hails from its Mezalean history. It embodies the bold, bright culture that used to flourish in the mesa before the cataclysm.

In a world so absent of meat and animals, Martyn’s gotten somewhat desperate, and has therefore bribed and blackmailed Joel into a cut of what is probably horse.

He hopes it's horse meat.

It better not be dog.

“Take it,” Joel says tersely, throwing the leg at him, as if daring him to try and challenge him “it’s not like I wanted it anyways.”

Martyn looks him in the eyes. He can see where the mesa ancestry also rests in Joel’s face. The same remnants of an accent, the same terracotta freckles, the way he wraps the horse meat with the oiled paper.

He remembers his time in Tumble Town, when the town was still developing; founded on a fateful Midweek and still roiling with multicoloured dyes and flowers.

He remembers horse curry, ladled out by old ladies with creaky, rusted joints and peeling painted makeup and served with flatbread and fortified with whatever vegetables were on hand.

Watchers above, he was hungry. Hungry for calmer times, hungry for peace, hungry for good, rich food.

Hungry. What a strange feeling, reminding him of love and care while making his mind feel jittery and restless. Martyn isn’t sure if he wants to be hungry or not.

~

In the kitchen, Martyn starts by dragging over a big pot, because he can’t have the curry overflow when he’s not looking.

Unwrapping the horse leg is less of a deal than Martyn thought his mind would make it out to be, and for one horrifyingly long second, Martyn feels afraid at what seems to be underwhelmingly nothing.

But that’s exactly it. How can it be that one of the most defining kitchen memories of Martyn’s datastream life makes him feel nothing? 

How can revisiting memory of somewhere he almost considered home make him feel…nothing?

Is he forgetting Tumble Town already?

He carefully pulls at the red ribbon holding it together, the oil paper glossy and satisfying under his fingers.

Still nothing.

Martyn really can’t help but feel a little disappointed.

When people talked about homecoming, they often portrayed it as a grand thing, about realising a sense of belonging and all that.

Maybe that’s the side effects of wandering. In a headspace where anywhere could be your home, nowhere was really your home at all.

The rest of his preparations are almost robotic, just trying to get to the conclusion where he could eat.

Maybe he didn’t want to be hungry anymore.

~

Cold water.

Horse.

Splash

Small fire.

Skim off the foam and grease.

Resist the urge to drink raw horse water.

Skim off the foam and grease.

Resist the urge—

~

When the water finally boils, Martyn sprinkles in his salt.

What was the saying, salty like the ocean?

Allium root clove, fried onions, curry leaves and all the vegetables he thinks he would be able to stomach also go into the pot, all swallowed into the rapidly darkening mix.

There’s still…nothing.

He still remembers every step, even cooking this exact dish with the other universe’s Jimmy and teasing him and the fact that diced chorus fruit was once an ingredient in the stew, and there’s still nothing.

He remembers warmth, and happiness, and fun, and he’s pretty sure he could describe the tiled floor of the kitchen with no issue at all, but he can’t feel homesick in this…game like everyone else seems to do.

Does he even remember anything at all about his old life? Did it mean anything at all?

Well, at least the next step is just waiting.

He can do that. He can even top up the enchantment on his armour while he waits!

Even if he can’t remember, he can still appreciate the process for what it is, and if this stew isn’t for him anymore, it can at least be for Ren.

If he cannot be a citizen of Tumble Town any longer, he can at least be a good Hand of Dogwarts, and serve his king like he was always meant to do.

~

Recarve the grooves and enchantment runes.

Crush up lapis with mortar and pestle.

Cough violently.

Roll powder into a tube like a blunt.

Shake powdered lapis into the lines until it flushes with the armor plate.

Cough violently again.

Smooth over.

Run the blowtorch over it like curing redstone.

Tie on the armour pieces as if it will keep you together.

Vambraces.

Pauldrons—

~

The re-enchanting helps to calm Martyn’s mind, and by the time he’s ridiculously hot and suited up, the familiar yet unfamiliar smell of the stew tells Martyn that it’s ready. Now all he has to do is reheat some of the flatbread they have and he can serve it.

But for now, it’s just for him, and travelling has made him basically immune to not liking food and burning his tongue, and he can handle it.

Ladling out a spoon of the soup into his bowl; the one made by Ren with the green glaze, he uses his fork to scrape off a chunk of the steaming soft potato in his portion and raises what was once home food to his new home, at least until he should depart again.

iii. zombie-skeleton bone broth  

A kind of stone-soup-esque concoction of a weary wanderer. It has traces of many different cultures depending on the chef, although it also tends to taste of no culture at all, due to the nature of its maker.

After the zombie apocalypse, the morning after finally comes, and the undead start to burn.

Not all parts burn in the perfectly habitable solar temperature, however, and Martyn’s travels tell him that such an event is basically a whalefall to the starving.

At first light, Martyn light-headedly drags Ren outside their bunker; blood suddenly rushing to his head from standing up.

“Come on,” he urges, already pulling crumbling redead into his arms, gesturing for the sake of both Ren and the rest of the Red Bannerknights who have followed him, “gather them. I’ll explain later. We just need to get them before they fully burn away.”

If Ren has any questions at all, about his sudden reverence for the (un)dead, he doesn’t show it.

He just…does as Martyn says.

If Martyn were a minstrel instead of a wanderer, he’d probably have something to say about a king tending to the dead on behalf of his Hand. 

Something about a holy vulture, something about the essential role of carrion creatures in the ecosystem.

So the men of Dogwarts stand, in the overnight cemetery, on the altar and in the courtyards; harvesting zombies and skeletons.

~

Back in Dogwarts, Martyn leads them in picking and scraping the rotting flesh off bones, who have all enthusiastically agreed to help after hearing about Martyn’s plans to make broth out of the bones.

Skizz, Etho, and Bigb are somewhere in the back making a mirepoix to flavour to broth, last he heard.

He glances over at them three, with lacy aprons tied around their waists as they laugh and chop vegetables.

Bigb’s chopping allium bulbs that had finally come in useful from the spring, spinning together a story about a betrayal and a friend called Terry as he does.

Skizz laughs along and points things out brightly as easy as water over rocks as he chops his carrots from the farm and the zombies alike.

Etho, with his artificial redstone eye, has been playfully force-assigned to onion duty. He laughs too, with his eye-smile pushing minute tears out of his natural eye.

Martyn…he hallucinates pork.

Martyn imagines a timeline where pigs still existed as luxury enough to eat as he cuts another zombie open, following the path of bone, and cleaning off the putrid flesh before cracking a rib off and  dropping it into a pot of seawater to draw out the metallic taste.

It takes more effort than it should for Martyn to stop himself from putting raw rotten flesh into his mouth because he craves meat, goddammit. 

It’s the pull of fonder times; older, ‘wet nurse’ recipes for the sickening loved ones; mushy or crunchy vegetables for vitality and to push the sickness out, soft meat for strength to endure the symptoms and something sweeter like applesauce or berries to give hope to see themselves through to the end.

Maybe it means something other than animal shortage that Martyn craves meat. He also craves strength, in a way; strength to protect and the strength to betray what he holds dear equally.

He cracks out another rib as Ren sweeps by in his old summer rollerblades to sweep the vegetables into a pan with what looks suspiciously like zombie fat.

The rest of the ribs and bones, supplemented by skeleton bones disappear fast, and after a few minutes, they’re all in a cauldron over a campfire, something Martyn’s learnt how to make from Jimmy and Scott.

The bone broth will end up lasting till their final days, frozen in tiffins and heated over makeshift fires for the men to take heart in.

~

“I think I might be hungrier than when I started,” Ren quips to the raucous, slightly nauseous laughter of squires and knights as he sits back in his chair after his share of Etho’s frankly radioactive-looking experimental rotten flesh chasiu.

The chasiu is glazed with what could either be honey or just sheer rot, and marbled with greenish…mold, and jiggles under Martyn’s chopstick-grip more than it should.

When he brings it to his mouth, the texture is surprisingly good and the taste is actually pretty great too, going well with the richness of the broth, but it seems to burn itself a hole in his stomach to sink into.

Luckily, hunger of people unlike him is a type of sickness easily healed, and Martyn cannot help but to oblige and ladle more bone broth into the men’s bowls, if only to give them hope that these apocalyptic wars too, would pass.

iv. datastream ramen

Before Martyn had ever entered the datastream on that fateful day, Martyn often spent dinners cross legged in front of the telly with cup noodles on his knees.

Sometimes, on holidays when he was feeling like he had enough energy, he would make himself ramen.

Today is one of those days. A ramen day for him and Ren to enjoy after a week of enchanting and farmwork.

Well, not really ramen. A lack of animals and lack of need or want to brand more hunger into his stomach with zombie flesh certainly removes from what he would normally consider ramen.

But he has an egg, salt he skimmed from ocean water, kelp, bone broth, salmon, he has wheat flour and water, and he has alliums and a dream, and he’s going to make it work.

First is the tare. He doesn't have cooking wine, so stirring salt into wine will probably have to work.

Next is soup, and he’s too lazy to make more, so he’ll just take out another portion of zombie-bone broth.

For the noodles, he doesn’t have the right type of water, but he’ll just have to make do to the best of his abilities.

It’s a lot like making pasta, but with more water. He’s not sure what that changes about the composition at all.

Egg. Flour. Water.

Knead, knead, and knead, he does. 

He puts his whole body into it, dusting flour on it every once in a while.

Knead, knead, knead.

Chop, chop, chop.

The sound of the dough hitting the countertop sounds like a head hitting an altar.

~

The aroma of the combined soup is also somewhat familiar yet unfamiliar to Martyn, in a way that signals to him yet again that he should be feeling homesick.

That’s nothing new, though.

~

Broth and tare flow into the bowl in a honey-coloured stream, salmon resting on a raft of noodles with the kelp and the fried onions.

~

When the ‘ramen’ is ready, Martyn sprinkles on some allium stems before taking the bowls to one of the watchtowers where he knows his king will be.

“Dinner’s ready, my liege,” Martyn says, purposely making his footsteps loud on the steps so as not to scare him while trying to balance the chopsticks on the bowl and preventing them from sliding off.

Ren’s rather solemn face turns to sunshine again at the mention of food, like it always does. That’s how it’s always been.

With a sigh, Martyn sets the steaming bowls down, careful not to spill a single drop.

“No meat again, my liege, I’m afraid,” Martyn jokes. It’s not really as much of a joke as it used to be, because being pseudo-vegetarian is basically a fact of life, but every ounce of humour counts, nowadays.

Ren obliges, letting slip a laugh.

Martyn also laughs in turn, as Ren fumbles with his chopsticks and tries to bring the noodles to his mouth in some sort of kingly way.

That’s what the fork in his back pocket is for, obviously.

~

“Back in…where I came from, it would have pork,” Martyn says hesitantly, mirroring Ren the first time they had made the jam, “but we can make do.”

Ren slowly turns to look at Martyn and the fork he’s offering; grip on it like a knife.

“…you’re not from Tumble Town?”

“…no. In this universe, I do come from Tumble Town. Sometimes.”

Ren doesn’t take the offered fork, instead turning his back to try to continue eating with his chopsticks.

Something lurches in the pit of Martyn’s stomach.

Maybe there really is nothing in this world for him.

Even as he eats out of the green, round bowl, the world feels like it has come back ironically round to walls, corners, and edges.

~

After the frankly torturous meal, Ren finally clears his throat.

“M—Martyn. Must you betray me with a lie?

Martyn cannot answer him. How could he as a wanderer possibly explain where he comes from?

v. golden carrot, potato and beetroot ratatouille

A Hermitcraft recipe, not often made but great for events and potlucks. It’s good with many things, like honey, broth, love, and magic etc.

On one of those awkward days where neither Martyn nor Ren have anything to do, Ren approaches Martyn with a proposition.

Over the days, both of them seem to have come to the consensus that where they come from is not nearly as important as where they will end up being, and Martyn can finally look his liege in the eyes again. 

Therefore, he agrees.

When he reaches the kitchen, the somewhat silence is holy. The knife coming down on the vegetables sounds like heads coming down on the altar again, but in a different, more reverent way.

If anything, their time not talking to each other have made them more attuned to body language, so when Ren beckons Martyn closer with his hand and his gaze falls toward the bowl of beetroots, Martyn knows exactly what to do.

Chop, chop, chop.

The red juice from the beets starts to stain his hands as he hacks into them and slices them up, the severed parts falling under his left hand in a strangely satisfying way.

It’s so strange how domestic the scene feels yet again, even with two reds holding knives in a small area. Slightly warming sun streams in through the window and everything seems…right.

Ren puts his golden carrots into a small pot of bone broth, and Martyn does the same with his beetroot slices.

There’s only one bowl left, and it’s full of potatoes. 

Martyn watches Ren look at the potatoes and then look at him. He looks at the potatoes and then he looks at Ren.

They both reach for the potatoes at the same time and then smile and then laugh together in sync.

Chop, chop, chop.

~

When the vegetables are all broiled, Ren oils a pan with some of the garlic-allium confit oil BigB made, before throwing all the vegetables in.

While the vegetables sizzle, Martyn thinks this.

He might actually be hungry.

~

“Cheers,” Ren says, holding out his fork with some vegetables on it for a toast.

Martyn can’t believe his ears. The word seems to hang in the air, like a question that he can’t quite dodge.

“Cheers,” he offers in turn. The vegetables are gorgeously rich and melty on his tongue.

“Where I…come from, I used to share this with people I loved.”

This is them, now. 

+1. the night before the final fight

When Ren finally, finally brings out the jam, Martyn almost cries.

When they made it, Martyn thought nothing of the sugar use. Just some sweetness in their lives; hope to see the end.

That would be unimaginable now; with every bit of sugarcane being put towards TNT or enchanting books.

Maybe this is the beginning of said end.

What hope can there really be, when all of them might be dead and gone?

He’s survived long enough to taste the fabled jam, and now what?

What is left to do other than to accept fate, lay down, and die?

The jam goes into two bowls of boiling water and the sweet smell starts to waft, and Martyn thinks he might be salivating, actually.

It’s a different kind of hunger now. It’s a type of thirst.

He doesn’t long to be full, or with purpose anymore; only to experience something sweet in the tragedy, something to take his mind out of the war and the stupid puppeting games.

A thirst to hope.

In a world full of harsh corners, the fact that some things come all the way round to remind Martyn that there is still love and hope out there; whether it be in the desert or in the taiga, makes him almost emotional.

@treebarkweek

[chronic-gastro-illness-culture]

I'm unable to go anywhere or do anything because of my stomach/bowel problems, and I feel so alone. doctors and hospitals don't help or know what's wrong, and i don't know what to do. I feel like I'll never get to go anywhere or do anything. (I get symptoms like stomach ache, nausea, acid reflux, diarrhoea, or constipation after I eat anything), so I'm unable to go anywhere where I'd have to eat. (so anywhere longer than a few hours.)

do you or anyone else have any experience in this or any advice?

i have been exactly where u r

i developed gerd in the spring of 2023

i made changes to my diet only to find out i have ibs n food allergies - i cant eat a lot of raw vegetables n fruits n nuts bc im allergic to them but i cant eat processed foods bc of my gerd either

so i have a limited diet n take magnesium capsules everyday bc i cant eat leafy green vegetables

but i definitely lived in fear for months n had a lot of anxiety abt eating n also my proximity to a bathroom. i was taking zofran around the clock n would keep a handful of tums in my pocket in case i started to have reflux

i felt like i wouldnt ever be able to enjoy food or the act of eating again. n so much of hanging out w ppl involves eating. i dont think ppl realize how much culture n socialization revolves around food until ur suddenly hyper vigilant abt what ur eating. also how hard life is when each n every meal brings w it the fear n anxiety of experiencing symptoms.

anyways my doc prescribed me anti anxiety meds n a ppi to get the reflux symptoms under control. n she told me to go to therapy. At first that rlly upset me being told my stomach problems were anxiety related n basically feeling like my doc was telling me its “all in my head” bc i knew it was psychosomatic i knew what i was going thru was real

but i started therapy n my therapist suggested i read a book called the body keeps the score by bessel van der kolk n it changed my perspective on the whole thing.

things like pills diets n exercise can definitely help get things under control- n idk what all u have tried n what all the docs n hospital have given u in terms of tools to work w ur undiagnosed conditions -but understanding the mind-body connection n how ur body holds n manages stress can rlly rlly help when it comes to actually managing chronic illness. bc chronic illness is tied to chronic childhood trauma which is often a pattern thats repeated in adulthood too. doctors can only do so much when it comes to treating the body but they have have no idea how to treat the mind. while i hated my doc telling me take anti anxiety meds n go to therapy initially now im very very thankful she knew that was smth that was behind her scope n so she sent to someone who knew how to give me the help i needed. bc if i hadnt gone to therapy id still be stuck at home locked in a prison of fear.

i go out to eat now. i had movie theater popcorn for the first time in 2 yrs last month. i can eat a greasy fast food cheeseburger. these things i only indulge in once a month bc i dont want my gerd symptoms to come back again but they r things i can do.

n bc ik n understand my own stressors ik how to prepare for things like that to keep my gerd n ibs managed. ik to make sure i only eat a gerd safe diet during times of stress n to avoid the greasy processed foods bc ill be more likely to have reflux then.

recovery rlly is a long journey n the medical field rlly is incompetent when it come to chronic illness. i wish u the best of luck on ur journey n i hope u get some relief soon 🙏

[thedo0zyslider]

Running Towards The North - Chapter Two: The Southlanders - 7k words

Martyn grows closer to Jimmy and Mumbo over the next few days and weeks, they're not the only one's who seem to catch his eye...

A03 Link

(obligatory mutual tag pt 2. @/apollothetransboy and @/happyrome0. i think u two will enjoy this especially :])

The next few mornings start a little more interesting than the first one in this world, Martyn does have to say.

Every day, after everyone wakes up, they share breakfast by the campfire they made. The meals are cobbled together with whatever food they have lying around, and sometimes eating bread every day does get a little repetitive. But he doesn’t mind much. It’s a good bonding experience, in his opinion, with how often they crack jokes and lightheaded little jabs at each other.

By the end of breakfast there’s usually at least two new valuable items thrown into the ahajar , as they’ve started to call it. It’s become a running bit to slip in an aha whenever possible, and they all want to see who has the most at the end of the game. Martyn is currently second, with Jimmy and Grian both tied for first. And Grian is starting to get playfully competitive about it, which just eggs Jimmy on further. Mumbo, despite his best efforts, has been stuck in fourth place for three days now, and poor Impulse just claims to be bad at thinking of puns. Though Martyn does slip him some aha ideas one morning, just so he can try and get more than two measly little points.

In the morning they each pass a life around to each other, until it reaches its original owner once again. A harness trust exercise that Grian has made up. It’s fun, all five of them joking every day as they do it, because it is early in the game that no one would ever need to run off with a life, even if Jimmy and Grian are both stuck at yellow for now. They could just go and force a life from someone else after all. They do it a little while after breakfast, doing so in turns, a new person risking their own life each day. Though none of them think of it as a risk for the time being, Martyn feels like they will one day in the back of his mind.

One day, after breakfast but before the daily trust exercise, when it is Martyn’s turn to throw something into the jar, he fumbles to find anything. The best he has on him is the spyglass Jimmy gave him during their first few days together, but once his fingers brush it, Martyn knows he cannot give it up. It was just that….well Jimmy had already had to make a handful of more spy glasses for everyone else, because they always threw them into the jar. And Jimmy just seemed to get so irritated by people throwing his gifts away, and Martyn didn’t want to like, genuinely upset him or anything.

Besides, it was the first gift he’d ever gotten in this world, the first one he could ever remember getting. And it was from Jimmy . So yeah, maybe it was a little special to him as well.

So instead he tosses in a few iron nuggets, not having enough to make a full ingot out of them anyways, and lies. He says he doesn’t have anything more valuable on him, that all his valuables are stored in his chests. Even though the other four should know him well enough to know that Martyn never keeps most of his valuable things, and certainly nothing that would be jar worthy, in a chest where it could be so easily stolen.

But instead they just groan and call him lame, and move on with their morning. All but Jimmy, who looks so utterly relieved , and smiles so widely at him. Something warm blooms in Martyn’s chest at the sight, and it bursts and seems to make everything go in slow motion for a moment. The blonde cannot help but fondly smile back, and knows that the mornings in this world are going to keep being good mornings just like this.

And he is right, they keep being good mornings. Because of Jimmy and his beaming smiles that can light up a whole room. And because of Mumbo, and his tendency to ramble about redstone, and because of the way he makes Martyn blush. Because of the way Martyn feels like he’s floating whenever they interact with each other. By god it makes every morning, everyday better just being around the redstoner, it always has since they first met, and Martyn never wants it to stop being like that.

To Martyn’s absolute joy and relief, it seems like it’s not going to stop anytime soon.

Mumbo kisses him sweetly one morning before breakfast is done, hiding inside his bunker and away from prying eyes. Martyn finds that he doesn’t mind, wants it in fact, and kisses back. He holds Mumbo’s face in his hands, and stares into beautiful dark eyes when they pull away to catch their breaths.

“That was…” Mumbo mutters, still close enough for his breath to ghost Martyn's lips. The blonde just giggles, and squishes the other’s cheeks in his hands.

“Amazing?” Martyn finishes for him, and Mumbo hums in agreement.

“Yeah, amazing .” His pale face is flushed red, so, so red it's adorable. And Martyn wants to kiss him again and again until it’s just as red as it can be, just to see that look again and again and again for the rest of time.

“We should be getting to breakfast now, shouldn’t we?” Mumbo says after a pause, and Martyn murmurs in agreement. He gives the other a quick peck on the forehead before they separate, and the two of them walk out of the bunker acting like nothing ever happened between them. If they are both noticeably brighter that morning, no one notices. And if they do they don’t say a thing about it, and breakfast continues on as normal.

It’s a good morning, because he kisses Mumbo, and he's getting along well with his new friends, and because there are small victories. Like Impulse managing another aha joke, one that Martyn didn’t supply him with beforehand. There are small victories like Mumbo giving him another hidden peck on the cheek before they part their separate ways.

The morning gets even better, because a few of them decide it’s time to get mining for some resources. And Jimmy asks Martyn to go with him. He doesn’t know why he’s so giddy about spending time with Jimmy, but it feels nice doing so, and Martyn will not complain about any joy he’s handed in a death game.

They head down into the mines, one that was started under Jimmy’s tower a day or so before, for diamonds. And maybe some extra amethyst if they can stumble across a geode. Jimmy was really hoping for that last bit, which just made Martyn hellbent determined to find those crystals for his friend.

The two of them don’t have much luck in the way of amethyst or diamonds, mainly because neither of them want to waste pickaxes trying to mine down that deep just yet. Though they do eventually stop strip mining, Martyn having broken into an entrance to a cave, and they develop a steady rhythm of mining and chatting.

A fair bit of iron is collected though, and Martyn manages to find an iron vein on top of the whole stack they’d already collected. It’s a good thing they found all this iron too, as they could make things like buckets and spare armor. Diamond armor would probably be better in the long run, but having the next best thing wouldn’t hurt either. In fact Martyn would rather not wear any diamond he gets, wanting to ensure it stays around until they’re really low on people, even if it puts himself at more risk now than probably necessary

He calls Jimmy over, and once they finish clearing out that segment of the mine, it feels like the two are practically inseparable as they decide to start on a continuation of the earlier strip mine.

They are so close in this cave, the two of them, and Martyn doesn't notice. Jimmy doesn’t either. Frankly, if either of them did they wouldn’t have found they practically cared much. They just stay close to each other as they mine, pickaxes sometimes almost hitting the same area of stone.

They are eventually distracted by buzzing in their communicators, the chat abuzz with discussion of when the boogeyman would be chosen that week. Grian informs them eventually that, from what he knows (and he knows a suspicious amount, in Martyn’s humble opinion,) someone is chosen randomly every week, and there is no warning to when it happens. But everyone will feel a countdown of sorts when it happens, just like the last time, so they only find out what’s happening in the moment.

Overall, the conversation doesn’t really get anyone anywhere, but it does give Martyn a pretty bad joke idea. Or a business idea, if you were feeling daring. So he turns to Jimmy, who is leaning against a furnace and crafting table they’d placed down a few minutes before, already smiling from his own stupid ideas.

“We could make a business,” Martyn suggests, his grin widening with every word that leaves his mouth. “The Boogey Blockers!”

“The Boogey Blockers!?” Jimmy parrots him with a small giggle, turning his head to face him. “And what would we do as ‘ The Boogey Blockers,’ hmm?”

“We’d block the Boogeyman from killing people, and save everyone a whole lot of trouble with it!” The blonde explains, going to lean on the crafting table as well, and teasingly getting in Jimmy’s personal space as he does so.

The canary giggles in return, seeming to focus on an oddly specific part of his face as he does. “Maybe we could do that!” He responds, eyes not seemingly moving from wherever the hell he’s so focused on.

Martyn furrows his brows at his friend momentarily, slightly wondering if all this time in the caves had driven him crazy. Or messed with whatever weird bird instincts he had. “Whatcha lookin’ at? Is my face pretty or something?” He teases, a little caught off guard by what happens next.

“I, um, here,” Jimmy says, reaching to hold his cheek. “You’ve got some dirt on your face.” His face is slightly red as he goes to wipe the grime from Martyn’s face rather delicately, cradling it the entire time. His brown eyes are focused on his small task, entirely honed in on the small, sweet task he’d put upon himself. The blonde just stares up at him, a bit mesmerized suddenly. Jimmy sticks out his tongue in concentration for a moment, and he can’t help but think of how adorable that is.

Jimmy brushes some stray hair out of Martyn's face as well, hair that would’ve bothered him if it stayed out of place for much longer. His breath hitches at that, but the canary doesn’t seem to notice. He just pulls back with a smile, one that Martyn has found himself growing quite fond of.

“There, all clean now!” Jimmy hums, going back to the ore he’d been working out of the stone previously. Somehow doing so like none of that had ever happened.

“..Thanks..” Martyn mumbles, barely audible, and all he can do to regain his composure is to go back to mining his own ore, and avoid Jimmy’s beautiful, beaming face for a few minutes, as much as he doesn’t want to.

They don’t stay in the cave for long after that, their pockets long full of mostly coal and iron, but there is some gold and redstone scattered in there as well. Not to mention the absolutely absurd amount of cobblestone they can now use to improve the wall and tower of the base above. Though there was probably never going to be a shortage of that material, having more never seemed to hurt. Other than the dozens and dozens of chests it was bound to occupy eventually.

So they head back up, still as physically close as they were before, and the two of them crack jokes like they were old friends. And with all these memory gaps, and the pull towards Jimmy and how familiar every moment with him is, Martyn would be inclined to believe it. He’d be very inclined to believe they were friends in another lifetime, and every moment with the canary was just as joyful and amazing there as it was here.

Once they return to the surface it is around midday, and they sort through everything they’d gathered slowly, enjoying being around each other as they do so. Sorting through and organizing is usually such a boring, mundane task, but doing it with Jimmy makes it fun. Doing most things with Jimmy makes them funner than they actually are, really. And Martyn can’t tell if that’s a him thing or just a universal Jimmy effect or something.

All and all it is still a good morning, just as it had started as a few hours before, and Martyn was glad he was still able to thoroughly enjoy himself in this world. For the time being, that is. (He knew not all mornings would be good like this, so he was going to cherish the good days and hours while they lasted, lest he let them slip between his fingers and he is only left with memories of the bad ones in the end.)

And well, just because the mornings and days are good, that doesn’t mean there aren't some down moments thrown in the mix as well. Down moments a certain, amazing, wonderful, and splendid someone is always trying to quell for him.

Mumbo and Grian emerge from their own, separate mining session barely ten minutes later, and the sight makes something unpleasant stir in Martyn’s gut. He narrows his eyes, watching the way they laugh together, over what has to be some sort of inside joke. (Which he’s right about, it’s some stupid game they mind out while diamond mining, he finds out later.) He watches as they stand close together, in a way that feels more than something friendly. He watches how Grian is so kind to Mumbo, offering to help him sort his ores.

Then, before Martyn can sweep Mumbo away like he so desperately wants to, Grian announces that they’re going to do some enchanting back at the spawn area. And maybe still the table while they’re at it. He and Jimmy bid them farewell and good luck, but as soon as the two have left the base Martyn is frowning, and muttering something probably very nasty under his breath.

Jimmy seems to notice, because when Martyn turns to glance at him again he’s frowning. Normally, he would hide it, but it’s far too late to do that now, because the canary is tugging at his hand softly; like he wants to lead him somewhere.

“Hey,” Jimmy says, his touch feeling like a warm fire on Martyn’s skin. “You wanna help me with the inside of my tower? I’ve got no idea how to decorate it.”

“I thought we all agreed there was no point in decorating if it’s a death game.” Despite himself, Martyn cracks a small smile. He can’t help it, Jimmy just has that infectious energy that makes you want to smile.

The canary’s gaze hardens, and he shifts until he’s holding Martyn’s both of hands firmly in his, their fingers interlocking. “I know! But I want to do it! I want to do it with you!” If the blonde wasn’t blushing before, he definitely was now, his heartbeat pounding in his chest.

“…Well, okay then. I’ll help.” Martyn mumbles around a fond sigh, and decides it’s worth it when Jimmy flashes that smile again. The one he can’t help but love so much. But he knows deep down that this will still not quell the horrible feeling in his gut. Not in the long run anyways.

Martyn knows he’s jealous, and that he’s running towards Jimmy to avoid it. But he doesn't want to acknowledge it, so the canary seems like a pretty good way to distract himself from doing that. And it’s an excuse to spend more time with him, which is always a bonus.

(Everytime he gets jealous after this he runs straight to Jimmy. And sometimes Jimmy walks into his tower, a frown that shouldn't be there etched onto his face, and Martyn feels like he’s running from his own jealousy as well.)

Jimmy takes him to the tower, still holding hands, and they don’t let go until it is time to sort through the canary’s rather terrible chest monster he’s made. And it works, it helps take Martyn’s mind off his jealousy almost entirely. Jimmy just has to be so damn good at cheering him up, doesn't he?

It takes them a good hour or two to do it, the same amount of time it would take the other two to get back. That didn’t escape Martyn’s notice, but anytime he seems down again Jimmy is quick to distract him. They even manage to put some things up on the wall, making some rather cute decorations if he says so himself.

Though towards the end of it though, Jimmy starts hiding something from him. Martyn tries to find out what it is, really he does, but everytime he gets close Jimmy either hides it with his wings, or playfully shoves him back. The canary’s being so vigilant, much more than he normally is, and all it does is making him incredibly curious about what he’s making on the crafting table.

He finds out towards the end, when Jimmy leads him towards the bed, and he has to stop himself from making some sort of dirty joke about that. The taller sits him down, still being as gentle as he had been before, and tells Martyn to hold out his hands and close his eyes.

The blonde lets out an amused snort at that. “What are we, five? ” He asks, the corners of his eyes crinkling in joy.

“Just do it! Please!” Jimmy huffs, and Martyn obliges with another amused sound.

His eyes stay firmly closed, with absolutely no peeking done whatsoever, and a minute later there is something cold and slightly heavy resting in his palms. There is also the lingering warmth of Jimmy's hands brushing against his, and Martyn has to stop himself from chasing it.

“You can open them now.” When he speaks next Jimmy’s voice has become slightly smaller, what seems to be nervousness and maybe embarrassment lacing it. Martyn just cocks an eyebrow at his tone, and slowly opens his eyes.

There, in his hands lies the best gift Martyn’s certain he’s ever gotten and will ever get, memory gaps or not.

He stares down at a spyglass, one clearly made with love and careful hands, mouth slightly agape. A normal spyglass is already fairly expensive to make, with having to find the amethyst for it and all, but this one has diamonds embroidered along one side of it. It’s…it's truly beautiful, that’s what it is. And it gets more beautiful when he picks it up to inspect the bottom half of the object. There, on the small trim around the glass, is a shy J + M engraved into the copper.

“Sorry if you don’t like it,” Jimmy murmurs, gaze now fixed on his lap. He's blushing ear to ear, much like the other man sitting on the bed with him. “I just thought you’d probably lost the old one, or put it in the jar by now, and wanted to make you a new one. One that you wouldn’t want to throw away…” “Oh Tim, no….” Martyn sets the gift to the side, and goes to hold Jimmy’s hands in his once more, the nickname slipping past his lips without a second thought. It’s something he’d picked up from Grian he thinks, or maybe it was one of those things he just couldn’t remember. But the way he got it doesn’t matter, because Jimmy likes it, and responds to it all the same. (And if Jimmy likes it, then it’s a good nickname. His nickname.) “I never threw the first one away.”

Martyn slowly pulls out the first spyglass Jimmy had given him over a week ago at this point, and the canary just stares at it in what he can only call a kind of happy disbelief. The item has clearly been used, the wood and copper having scratches in it and some of the glass being cracked, but Martyn never threw it away. He’d kept it on his person at all times, even when he never had anything to give up to the jar, he never threw it away. He only thought of giving it away that once, and vowed to never again.

“Well now I feel kinda silly…” Jimmy lets out a quiet chuckle, the sound of his lovely voice strangled with emotion.

Martyn smiles fondly at him, moving a hand to cup the other cheek without even thinking about it. “Don’t,” He says, shifting closer as Jimmy puts a hand on top of his. “Because now I have two wonderful gifts from you.” There is a fond smile stretching across his face, one so wide it almost hurts, but Martyn can't even bring himself to care.

Jimmy’s breath hitches, and then he laughs softly. It’s a nice laugh, his is, and Martyn can’t help but be memorized by it. He can’t help but laugh along and gaze at the canary’s face, watching as the flush from earlier spreads further across his features and the corner of his eyes turn upwards from joy. His eyes trace over every inch of his friend's face, from his eyes to his nose all the way down to his lips and all the blemishes and other small parts about it.

God , he wants to do something so incredibly stupid right now.

Thankfully, before he acts on any stupid impulse, there are voices calling for their names. Both of them jump back, startled, just as Impulse opens the door to Jimmy’s tower. Martyn scrambles away further, quickly trying to shove both of the spy glasses back into his pockets and away from any curious eyes.

Impulse gives the two of them a look, but seems to decide it’s something to ask about later. “Grian and Mumbo are on their way back!” He says, not commenting on how hard they’re both blushing, or how Jimmy’s wings have puffed out in a way that’s clearly flustered. Or how the two looked like they were about to suck face when he walked in. Or just, any of the million embarrassing things he could bring up right about now.

“With the enchanting table!?” Jimmy asks, standing from the bed in excitement, their little moment being pushed to the back of his mind for now. The mention of their two other allies had sent Martyn straight back into the earlier mood he’d been in, but even he is intrigued by maybe having full control of the world’s enchantments.

“Maybe!” Impulse says, an excited gleam in his eyes, and the two follow him out back into the main area. And maybe Martyn goes to hold Jimmy’s hand on another spur of the moment thought, and maybe Jimmy lets him and maybe they stand so close that no one can tell that they actually are, or if their hands are just brushed against each other weirdly.

Grian and Mumbo come back with no enchanting table, saying that it was already gone when they got there. Grian has a hunch, saying that he feels like Scar did it, with all his apparent talk of starting some sort of wizard business (which makes Martyn wonder exactly how Grian knows what the wizard’s been on about, because the group hasn’t seen Scar in a good few days.) Mumbo just laments that he wasn’t able to enchant his axe, or any of his armor, which Martyn briefly tries to cheer him up over. He isn’t sure if it works, but he tried at least.

Considering that the sun is setting, and they can already hear the sounds of skeletons' bones rattling and creepers hissing just outside the base's wall, the five of them decide that finding the enchanter is a job for the morning. And as soon as they do Jimmy drags him off again, acutely aware of the frown Martyn had sported since he caught sight of a certain someone with another certain someone once more.

He laughs as Jimmy mutters something to him, something about star gazing he thinks, and leads him up to the top of one of their towers. He’s leaning against Jimmy the whole time, as the two of them sit on the edge of a tower, legs dangling idly off the side. Jimmy pulls out his own spyglass, one he’s been so careful with Martyn’s fairly certain it’s the first one he’d ever made for himself, and the blonde pulls out the newest one he’d received barely an hour before.

That is where they stay the whole night, at the top of a cobblestone tower, entirely absorbed in each other. The stargazing is fun, it’s glorious to look at the night sky with someone you enjoy being around so dearly. They point out constellations to each other, and teach each other which ones are which when one of them draws a blank. And when the night grows colder Jimmy wraps an arm around him, and Martyn can do nothing but melt into the canary’s touch.

They sleep up there too, entirely unintentionally. Though before they do they slide off the edge of the tower, and lean against the wall, for they are far too sleepy to go all the way back down. Martyn falls asleep, Jimmy’s head rested snugly against his chest, and tries to push down the fluttering in his stomach and the strange feelings of floating he’s been getting around this wonder, wonderful man all damn day.

Looking back, those feelings he got around Jimmy should’ve been a warning sign. He didn’t notice at the time, had shoved it aside with all the other strange feelings he’d gotten over the course of this game, which he would soon learn to be a mistake. That was the feeling of butterflies fluttering madly in his stomach whenever he lays eyes on Jimmy. The exact same ones he got around Mumbo.

Martyn opens his eyes slowly the next morning, waking up to the sight of half a cobblestone wall and the dark oak trees just outside it. He was also incredibly warm, probably because he was sleeping in the sun with a hoodie on, but also because of the canary with an arm and a wing still wrapped around his torso.

He looks down with a smile, and sees that Jimmy is still in the same position he fell asleep in. His head against Martyn’s chest, wings spread out and crushing the other blonde’s legs under his body weight. Which just made him realize that he wouldn’t feel his legs at all, so that was great. But he doesn’t mind too much, as long as Jimmy’s comfortable and sleeping well.

Martyn shifts slightly, because sleeping against stone has left his back slightly sore, and begins gently playing with Jimmy’s hair. The other leans into it, letting out pleased chirps as he sleeps. He thinks it’s the damn cutest thing he’s ever seen, really. Martyn smiles wider as Jimmy nuzzles fully into his hand, and notices the last wisps of sunrise fading into the blue morning sky.

Yeah, yeah mornings on this server really were amazing, weren’t they?

Jimmy wakes up slowly, about twenty minutes later, and Martyn secretly thinks he was pretending for about half of that to keep getting his hair played with. Which, valid honestly, he would do that too. And it’s not like he wanted their soft moment to end early anyways

“Mornin’ pretty bird.” Martyn hums as wide, yellow eyes slowly blink open at him.

“Morning.” Jimmy chirps sleepily in response, blinking some of the sleep from his eyes. “How long have you been up for?”

“Not long,” Martyn smiles, shifting his position more now that he doesn't have to worry about waking someone up by doing so. “Mind getting off of me now?”

“Oh, sorry.” Jimmy mumbled a little sheepishly, scrambling off him in somewhat of a hurry. It was a big relief really, not having an entire person’s weight bearing down on him anymore.

Martyn just rolled his eyes and let out an amused snort. “Nah it’s fine, I just can’t really feel my legs anymore!”

“Well, they’re still attached to you, so that’s good!” Jimmy flexed his wings for a moment (Martyn totally not watching how they caught the sunlight, nope, not at all,) before reaching a hand down to help him up. The blonde takes it, a smile feeling permanently etched on his face, and holds onto Jimmy rather tightly until he can feel his lower half once more. Not that the canary seems to mind, he used it to be more physically affectionate in fact.

They go down to the ground floor of the base slowly, whispering and giggling like school children all the way down. Like some stupid teenagers in love, because that’s what it feels like with Jimmy sometime, truly. And by the time they get down all the way Grian and Mumbo are already awake and seemingly waiting for them.

“Well there you two are!” The shorter avian exclaims, hands going to rest on his hips. “We were starting to wonder what you both were doing up there!” Grian teases, wiggling his eyebrows a bit as he speaks.

“Oh, wouldn’t you like to know~” Martyn says, his tone a little sing-song-like, and pulls Jimmy closer by the waist and maybe lets his hands tease downwards just a bit. Jimmy just splutters, his face turning fifty shades red in the process. Grian cackles loudly, and Mumbo giggles alongside him, something momentarily flashing across his face.

“Anyways,” Grian continues once all the laughter dies down. “We were gonna go get that enchanting table, remember!?”

Three pairs of eyes light up at that and Jimmy, who is still thoroughly embarrassed and wants the attention off him, hurries them forward. So they all set off, teasing their favorite canary and not having any real expectations of how this little trip will go. Hopefully it goes well, and they can get some enchantments and go home alive and happy. That would be the best outcome, yes.

The visit to Magical Mountain ends up going horribly, as it was probably always going too. It goes so horribly that Martyn’s not sure if it could’ve gone any worse, actually.

Mainly because there is a trap, one that Grian spots instantly, and it’s pretty clear that one or both of their wizardry neighbors are probably the boogeymen. All four of them run out there, but not before Joel starts swinging his axe around like a bloodthirsty madman. Which he kinda confirmed that he was by doing that.

He’s going for Mumbo, and Martyn is trying to pull out his sword and also pull his friend away from their attacker, right as Mumbo manages to grab his sword, and knock Joel right off the edge. It’s a damn impressive move, especially because it was done entirely on accident. But a kill’s a kill he supposes.

The blonde turns for a split second, him and the two other Southlanders yelling in disbelief and excitement from the kill, and Scar throws lava down right on top of Mumbo’s poor little head. He wasn’t sure how horrifying watching someone burn alive is, but well now he knows. And the answer is that it's pretty goddamed terrifying.

“Mumbo!” Martyn screams his allies name, helpless to do anything but watch as his friend burns, and disappears, and he cannot do anything but watch and scream and back away from the former boogeyman in front of him.

After that it’s all a little bit of blur, but they do manage to scramble together all of Mumbo’s items, even the ones that had fallen down into the shallow ravine below. It’s a bit of a blur till Mumbo comes back, but Martyn does know he’s understandably quite shaken by his ally literally dying in front of him . Jimmy stays close to him the entire time though, a comforting hand on his shoulder. Maybe, he can’t quite recall everything.

When Mumbo comes back, he barely waits for the man to be given his items back before practically throwing himself at him. The redstone holds him as he runs up, Martyn;s borrows furrowed in what is undeniably great worry. He kinda forgets the other two are there in all honesty, and the fact that they are still rather close to Magical Mountain, his whole world becoming the mustached man in front of him for a few minutes,

“You okay?” He murmurs, holding Mumbo’s cheeks in his hands. He doesn't care that the others are around this time, and has a feeling Grian and Jimmy have politely averted their eyes already anyways.

Mumbo smiles softly at him, placing his own, colder hands on top of Martyn’s. “I’m fine.” The redstoner reassures him, voice true and genuine. “Just a bit shaken is all.”

“Good.” Martyn smiles, and leans upwards to press a swift peck to the taller’s lips. EVen such a simple gesture of affection leaves the redstoner blushed deep red, so much so that he can’t hold back the giggle that escapes him.

They separate from each other, and join the other two to start the long walk back to the Southlands with no enchanter in tow. It’s a sad walk really, one of shame and defeat, and the blonde becomes kinda determined to never to it again.

Martyn glances at Jimmy when they return to the other half of their group a minute later, and sees that his face has fallen a bit. It’s a familiar look, a jealous one that he’s seen before, and something turns in his gut at the sight. He frowns at that, but cannot shuffle closer to his the canary, because he has wrapped himself in some sort of conversation with Grian. All he can do is keping frowning, and try to listen to whatever Mumbo’s on about as he tries to figure out how to fix this.

He keeps frowning, his thoughts almost entirely drowning Mumbo out, until there is a voice from the group's right. Four head’s turn at the sound, and there is a Ren Diggity Dog in the trees, waving them down with questions about what the hell just happened, exactly? Which is a fair question, because the blonde isn’t even sure if he knows himself.

Martyn looks at Ren, and suddenly, after a moment of blank staring, there are voices; ones that are not his own, in his head and whispering things in his ear. They sound familiar, like pleasant and welcoming voices, but they are faint and distant. He can barely make out half of what they’re saying really, much to his own frustration.

All he manages to catch is a whispered “Trust each other….never doubt…” And well, he was already thinking about making good with Ren before, and the weird little voice had just been another motivator to go through with that. A weird little voice he could worry about later, when he was alone and not surrounded by people. (Worrying about it is absolutely going to slip his mind by the time he gets home, by the way. Unfortunately)

So he goes through with it while the other Southlanders are distracted, after Ren asks all his questions and the other three have started to properly discuss what happened back on the Mountain. He grabs Ren’s arm gently, and leads the two of them behind some of the nearby trees. The dog looks started, but thankfully makes no sound as he’s led off to the side. There is this feeling of instant, natural trust between them, one that neither of them even think to question as they hide behind a tree.

“Here,” Martyn says, keeping his voice low as he speaks. It doesn’t escape his notice how close they are, how he’s leaning his back against a tree and Ren is almost flushed up against him. It at least makes it easier to slip him some of the netherwart he’d kept on his person, and even he can see the way Ren’s eyes widen in excitement as he takes it; despite the sunglasses. Maybe his tail even wags a bit, thumping gently against Martyn’s leg, and maybe the blonde finds it just a little endearing.

“What’s all this about, dude?” Ren asks, keeping his voice just as quiet if not quieter than Martyn’s was a moment ago. He pockets the netherwart and his tail stops thumping, and Martyn tries to hold back the disappointment at that.

He smiles as he speaks, leaning back a bit further to get a better look at Ren’s face. “Just wanted to make a friend is all, be in good standings with someone who isn’t a Southlander.” I like you quite a bit goes unsaid, but Martyn hopes it gets across anyway.

“That’s not a bad idea…” Ren hums, one of his ears twitching in thought. “You have been quite friendly to me so far..”

“You could always join us, you know. Make our quintet into a sextet?” The offer wasn’t meant to be said aloud, only kept in Martyn’s brain, but his mouth moves before he can stop it. He doesn’t even think Ren was done speaking and he’d gone ahead and done it. And now the offers out there in the air, and he is mortified and embarrassed and praying he didn’t just ruin a possible allyship. (The worst part of all this is just how badly he wants Ren to say yes , to agree and run back home with him, even if both of them know that will never come to be.)

Ren, maybe catching the quick gleam of embarrassment in the blonde’s eyes, doesn’t react horribly. “I would love to, really, your group looks lovely and all. But I’ve already got allies back in the shadow lands, you see.” He smiles as he speaks, a giggle slipping through his lips. A giggle that shouldn’t make Martyn feel as light as it does.

“It’s kinda cute how eager you are to be friends with me.” Ren huffs a moment later, and moves to stand just a bit farther away from Martyn. Probably because this short interaction has gone for long enough, and if the blonde tunes into the world around them he would be able to hear his friend’s conversations coming to a close.

Somehow, he manages to keep his compuse and not turn into a bumbling, blushing fool. “Yeah, whatever!” Martyn laughs, a genuine smile stretching across his features, and shoves his hands in his hoodie pockets as he moves away. He hears Ren’s footsteps follow him back, and sadly they don’t quite manage to keep their secret meeting all that secret.

“What were you doing with Ren behind that tree, huh?” Jimmy teases him in a low voice after they part ways, the whole group giving the dog hybrid their goodbyes. The two blondes are walking towards the back of the group, Grian having dragged Mumbo into some sort of conversation. One where they laughed a lot. Which he tended to do fairly often….

“I was just warning him about Scar and Joel, since they’re both so bloodthirsty.” Martyn shrugs, hands still shoved in his pockets. He didn’t want to admit to giving away supplies as precious as netherwart, even if he could probably weasel his way out of it. Jimmy just makes a suspicious chirp, and nudges him in the side playfully.

“Yeah, I’m sure you need to be that close to do that.” It comes out as a tease, but Martyn would have to be a fool to not notice the slight twinge of something underneath all of his the canary’s smiles. It sounds like jealousy, or something akin to it, and part of him has to wonder why Jimmy, of all people, would be jealous. The other part of him gets a little too hopeful at that.

“It was nothing, I promise it.” He lets his voice turn gentle, reassuring this time. Because whatever that was was nothing. It would mean nothing in the long run, not when he was kissing Mumbo and spending all those hours in the caves with Jimmy. (Even if he wishes it wasn’t nothing, secretly)

He locks eyes with Jimmy when he speaks, and thankfully that seems to work. The canary’s shoulders seem to relax, and his smile gets a little brighter, it beams a bit more too. His smile looks more real than it does fake, and that’s all Martyn could really ever ask for. For his friend to keep smiling like that.

“Okay, if you say so!” Jimmy smiles, and nudges him again. Martyn lets out a small, breathy laugh, and elbows his friend in the side. Jimmy goes to retaliate, about to smack him over the head with a wing, but before the scuffle can continue Grian is yelling at them over his shoulder. The parrot avian asks if their children, and he gets his response in the form of Jimmy ramming into his backside, almost sending both of them toppling into the grass.

Martyn catches up with them, and can do nothing but laugh along with Mumbo as the two birds fight. Though he would be lying if he said he was paying more attention to the two than Mumbo, constantly trying to hold the redstoner’s hand and getting lost in the sound of his laughter. The avians play tussle all the way back to the base even, until all four of them have to separate and get some work done.

They return home after maybe an hour of walking back, and it’s before they all separate the four of them collectively realize that they’d forgotten a kinda important thing this entire goddamed time.

“Wait guys, where’s Impulse!?” Grian exclaims, right as the fifth and final Southlander, who all four of them had completely forgotten about somehow, emerges from one of the mines they’d carved out. The four of them had just had a harrowing adventure, and this poor fella had just been left out and stuck mining for god knows how many hours. Martyn feels slightly bad about leaving Impulse out, but also he didn’t have to witness someone die, so it’s not the strongest guilt in the world.

They explain everything to Impulse, and things get kinda hectic from there. Mainly because Martyn hears him and Mumbo having a slight debate over what happened, and Impulse feels bad that Joel died. So he decides he’s going to go off and give the two wizards, who are absolutely their enemies now, some business as “compensation" or whatever. It’s quite an intense argument, and avoiding it leads Martyn to Grian, who had snuck off to go try to steal the enchanter, and has now come back looking all sad. Much more sad than he would be for not getting a simple magical table.

And that is the point where Martyn decides he’s had enough of these specific people for today, and retreats into the nether to maybe replace that netherwart he’d given away to Ren earlier. Or get some blaze rods or other potion ingredients, either option would suffice for him really.

By sheer luck he actually runs into Ren in the nether, him and Etho that is, and they hang out for a while, messing around in a basalt delta. Which is a horrible place to mess around in, but trying to to fall into the small lava pockets in the rock does turn out to be quite entertaining.

They end up putting out Ren’s house, which somehow leads to Martyn spending at least two hours in the Shadow Lands, where he makes friends with Lizzie and manages to get Ren in on him and Jimmy’s Boogey Blockers idea. Which the blonde manages to do by just mentioning the concept actually.

He stays there for a while, until the mention of Boogey Blockers makes him miss Jimmy far more than it reasonably should, and he uses how low the sun is as an excuse to run back home and into the canary’s arms again.

Martyn heads home, his steps as light as the air around him. He smiles to himself all the while, already being able to imagine the adorable little reaction Jimmy will have to Ren joining their stupid little business idea from the day before, one that will probably never come to fruition in the end. The thought makes him giddy, it makes him want to get home faster, and so in response he picks up the pace; damn near running in the as the sun sets around him and the sky turns into a lovely orange hue.

Later down the line, it’ll be one of the few moments where he can actually remember feeling so light and free and full of joy. Because joy runs out here, eventually, something Martyn finds out sooner than anyone would probably like too.

[i-am-snowils-admiral]

oooooh roomate's shitty boyfriend tea? that you could rant about for a while? please do!

(or don't. i'm acknowledge i'm being nosey.....)

PLEASE be nosy about this I'm so down to talk about it my only limit is how many words I can type. I'm gonna refer to him as "J."

The first thing you should know is that my roommate is 27 and J is 41. Honestly they're both adults so there's nothing inherently wrong about that but I think it says a lot about him, and it especially says a lot about him because we genuinely couldn't tell that he was so much older because the maturity level was pretty similar.

On the first day I met him, we went to an estate sale across the road from our house. I saw a decorative teapot that I really liked but when I pointed it out, I said "oh, I really like this, but I have nowhere to put it and I don't want to have to store it." He tried to convince me to get it anyway but I reiterated that I had thought it through and decided not to get it. I went back to the house and he stayed at the sale. About 20 minutes later, he comes back to the house WITH THE TEAPOT and is all "you should have things that you like :)" and gave it to me. This seemed kind of weird and rude to me, but I let it slide because we'd just met and maybe he was trying to make a good impression or something. I didn't realize at the time that this was what they refer to as "foreshadowing." If J thinks a decision you made is wrong, even if it's about something that doesn't involve him at all, he'll take steps to stop you! Great! Love that! He does this frequently.

He's competitive to a somewhat pathetic degree. I had a good friend of mine over once and all three roommates + my friend decided we wanted to play Boggle, which we enjoyed. J, however, knew he wouldn't win this game because he wasn't familiar with it and wasn't very good at word games, so he first tried to claim that "nobody wants to play this" despite the fact that he was the only one that didn't want to play and THEN when he didn't get his way he sulked through all the games in a way that would've gotten me sent to bed early if I'd acted like that when I was like, ten years old.

Roommate #2 (G) has very specific things she wants in life. Many of those things require being financially stable enough for her to own a house, because she wants to run a daycare out of her own home and you can't do that in a rental. I'm not quite shallow enough to dismiss a man entirely based on his financial resources, but J is making no moves to even pretend he is going to support this dream of hers despite the fact that he's declared he intends to marry her (though he hasn't proposed yet). He has not bothered to save any money. He has not tried to move to a higher-paying job (he works part-time as a church musician). Every once in a while we hear him floating some weird vision of the future to her where he joins a band and they travel around the country for his performances. This man is 41 years old.

He doesn't make any long-term plans of his own but then if your plans conflict with the ones he came up with last minute, he's upset about it. He called up G the day before her mom came to visit and tried to organize the schedule for the visit, and was confused and offended when G informed him that she already had plans. With her own mom!! Buddy that is not your business!! If you wanted to do stuff with the both of them, you should have said so ages ago!

G wakes up very early in the morning to exercise (like 4 or 5am sometimes) and therefore goes to bed normally at around 8 or 8:30. J has absolutely no respect for this. When he stays over (not for long haha) he keeps her up past midnight talking. When he can be bothered to actually take her on dates rather than just hang around the house like a freeloader, he takes her to midweek concerts an hour and a half away that start at 9. She's frequently exhausted and can't seem to figure out why but she has no consistent schedule!!! She doesn't sleep!!! I'm gonna smack him.

I could keep going but now I definitely need to go to bed myself. His annoying text was only the latest. We are so worried about them both and G is desperate to marry this guy but like??? She could do so much better??? I genuinely worry that their relationship is going to end in her being controlled and manipulated. He'll ruin her dreams and be confused when she gets mad about it because he's getting everything he wants so he won't understand why she's unhappy. Ugh. Throw the whole man away.

Thanks for asking, though, I needed this rant.

[jess-abides]

Vacation body thoughts below the cut (I should really just journal lol)

The last time I went on vacation in April, I was the biggest I’ve ever been. I wore my bikinis and was trying really hard to rock with body neutrality and tbh I was in a decent place with it. But I was super uncomfortable on the plane, and it was probably the most unpleasant travel experience that I can remember.

While I was on that trip, I started wanting to exercise…like idk why but I remember thinking “I want to start doing squats when I get home” lol and I got on the peloton the day after I got home and rode every day for like 2-3 weeks while I convinced my trainer friend to coach me after I realized he offered virtual sessions. I don’t know what changed, but something flipped basically overnight - when we first got started, I told my trainer “I’m really good at starting over, but I really want this to be the last time” and tbh it still feels like it could be.

I haven’t missed a single planned/scheduled workout since the day I got back from that trip, and I’ve enjoyed the process so much more this time around because it came from a place of actually just wanting to exercise (as opposed to my typical pattern of ‘hate self > must be smaller > deserve punishment > must eat less and move more’).

I also very intentionally did not diet at all, because I still have to work very hard at not spiraling when I try to ~get healthy~ and I am sick to death of dieting and burning out and being afraid of food and the scale.

So I decided to just focus on the one thing I was excited about, which was getting stronger. Which naturally led me to make some different food choices based on what my body was craving (and plenty of well-intentioned bullying from my coach when I wasn’t eating enough). I’ve just been having so much fun getting stronger that it started to feel like a shame not to at least try to get enough protein to actually let my muscles recover and grow.

So I headed off on this vacation 30 pounds lighter than the last, inches gone from my waist, hips, thighs, wedged comfortably into the middle seat between two strangers and not silently apologizing for my existence. Happier, stronger, more confident. A little nervous to get out of my routine, tbh, but I could also really tell my body could use a break.

And, for once, not at all worried about my diet or whether I’d gain weight; knowing I’ve been learning to trust myself and basically eating whatever I wanted anyway. I enjoyed good seafood and good ice cream, but never felt like I needed to over-indulge or overcompensate for indulging. I went for long walks on the beach because I wanted to, and sat on the porch when I decided I’d rather do that instead.

Out of sheer curiosity, I weighed myself this afternoon (something I would never have done in the past - early morning only, iykyk). And wouldn’t you know it? I weigh the same as the day I left. The number itself isn’t the victory - I would have been fine with being up a few because bodies will be bodies, and I guess that’s really what I’m proud of!

And I’m looking forward to being back on my bullshit tomorrow morning and seeing how this break plays out in my workouts this week. After I sleep A LOT tonight 😌

[tkwrites]

I had come across some of your snapshots randomly but have now found your masterlist and omg 😍 you are so talented ❤️

I love how you incorporate high amounts of emotion and have some real serious pieces 🥹

How do you figure out what to write next? And how do you manage to upload such high quality content? Do you dot point how you want the storyline to go before you start and then go back to add in all the little details or do you just let your beautiful brain flow and it comes together?

I use to write a lot when I was younger but get way too stuck in my own head and struggle to fix it once I'm not sure. Idk if that makes sense? Do you ever get your friends to read over it and give feedback? I feel like a burden asking them to read over it, especially larger pieces. Do you ever feel you need others input first? Any tips on how to feel more confident in my own writing? 🩷

First of all, ­😭

What a gift of a note this is! It came through and I nearly burst into tears. Thank you for your very kind words. 

I've always been fascinated with how people feel and relate to each other - it's the main reason I started writing - so that highly emotional content comes from that, I think. I'm so glad others enjoy it, too.

I've answered your questions about writing below as I don't want to take over anyone's feed and this got REAL long real fast. 

Because I write this series out of order, I just keep ideas open all the time. I currently have 21 Sanpshots in progress. Some of those will be sunk into each other, but as of right now, there are 21 ideas. I basically write what I feel inspired to, and what gets published next is usually what’s been pulling most of my attention. 

The quality content thing is interesting because I don’t always think all the Snapshots are high quality. I felt really nervous about Before I meet your Parents, I’ll be proud for you, and Sarah meets the parents, and I was convinced all three would flop when I published them. Are they my strongest works? Certainly not. Are they well liked? It seems so. So it just goes to show that we’re all our own worst critic. 

That said, I have been writing for a long time and understand my style (for the most part), so that makes it easier to trust my own writing. I did an exercise about 8 years ago where I kept a blog in which I wrote or edited 1,000 words of fiction 6 days a week for a year. This was a bit of an extreme exercise and won’t be for everyone, but I credit that, more than anything else, to the improvement in my writing. Practice makes perfect, even in the realm of the arts. And if you can practice every day, that’s even better. 

Generally, I’m working on 3 or 4 Snapshots at a time, but they rotate pretty consistently. When I’m near finishing one, I will concentrate on that one for a week or two, however long it takes to get it written and up to standard. 

Most Snapshots and other fics start with an idea. Some start with the beginnings of a scene. Shoot the Moon, for example, started because I wanted to write a more realistic sex scene that included 2 elements: 1. “I don't care if you swallow. I don't really even mind not coming in your mouth, that was just a heat of the moment thing. Thanks for letting me anyway.” And 2. “I want you so bad,” he whimpered, “but I’m so tired, I don't think I can keep it up.” 

So I usually start with an idea and then build around it. Eventually, a loose plot comes into focus, and I’ll concentrate on that for a while. Every once in a while, when I feel really stuck with a piece, I won’t necessarily write down a plot, but I will write down actions that need to happen in order to move the story forward. Some details come as I’m writing, and some are added later. Word smithing takes more time, so that usually, but not always, comes after the plot is established, and I can concentrate on the writing itself. 

It’s so easy to get stuck in your own head. Writing every day can help with that. Also, I’ve had to fight to get to a point where I realized I’m writing mostly for myself and a little bit for everyone else. If you love it, there’s a big chance someone else will, too. That said, I still get stuck in my own head sometimes, and it’s something you just have to learn to push through. Usually, if you keep writing, it will sort itself out. Other times, if you give it space and come back to it, the way to fix it will sometimes jump out. 

I do ask friends for help and feedback! In fact, I had someone read over the girlfriend scene in Good For You because the first iteration of it was very, very flat. I knew it was, but didn’t know how to fix it. She read it over and gave me a few suggestions that really helped. 

I’ve found that I think I’m far more of a burden than my friends ever feel like I am. Usually when I ask, friends are happy to read through my writing. After a while, you’ll discover who gives good feedback and who doesn’t. And unless your friends are telling you that they’re too busy, or they don’t want to read your work, they’re likely not feeling that it’s a burden. It’s their responsibility to tell you if they’re upset or burdened. If they’re not telling you that, it’s likely that they’re not feeling that way. That was one of the hardest but most valuable lessons I’ve learned in therapy. 

Sometimes, I need feedback, and sometimes I don’t. I usually need it if I find I’m writing myself in circles, or something feels off, but I can’t pinpoint why exactly. 

I always read my writing out loud to myself. It’s very easy to pinpoint stuff that’s off or not natural or out of rhythm when you hear it out loud.

The best advice I can give is to write and then write some more. The more you practice, the better you’ll become. They say you have to write 1,000,000 words before you’ll write your first real one, and I think that holds true. As you spend more time writing, you’ll find your style and find your rhythm, and learn to trust yourself a little more. 

I hope this helps. I’m sorry it got to be so, so, so long! 

[lesless]

glowing, growing 🔮 🍀

It is gently dropping small, delicate flakes of white outside & the air is so still, quiet, like a whisper. My love took the dog & headed out to a town 2 hours away to meet his father so he can spend tomorrow working on an initiative that may prove to be a wonderful investment of time/energy/etc., but not without quite a lot of work first. I am proud of him in a lot of ways, but I will miss him. I do enjoy my down time though, so I will make the most of it.

I had planned on meeting up with a friend tonight after she had dinner with her sister, but neither of us wanted to do much once the sky grew grey & it began to snow. I wrote a list of what I want to do solo tomorrow--tea (I need to reign back my coffee consumption, again), journal, breakfast, eat, go to yoga, get a juice from the place next door to the studio, a bath with the bath bomb I bought at the botanical gardens. Then, get some work done on the photo and/or writing project, buy some yarn to make gifts, write xmas cards, then maybe meet up with that friend I missed today. It sounds like a great solo day, exactly the kind of thing I like to do! A little chill, a little activity/movement in the A.M., a little productivity, a little shopping, a little fun.

It is funny that since I sorted through my clothes & replaced them with quality items I enjoy wearing that I feel like I have SO many options but I have SUCH a small number of items now compared to when I started weeding out synthetics. I have reflected that life is funny like that, sometimes when we lack quality we go for quantity, don't we?

Being deliberate in purchasing/replacing items has been a years-long thing & lately I do feel surprised that interacting with quality on a regular basis is satisfying, though I have kind of always held the idea that spending extra $ on things you interact with daily will make your daily experience more enjoyable. A nice face wash, comfortable bedsheets, decent rubber gloves to wash dishes in. I suppose I will just never stop appreciating little things in life.

Sunday bb will return, we will relax & play BG3, spend our last little bit of solo time together until next year, quite literally. Tuesday our friend arrives, I visit the allergist, then Thursday my cousin arrives, then Sunday we fly to Texas, then it's holiday madness & remote work, then we fly to Mexico, the new year blooms, more remote work, & we return to life & a new semester.

In more mundane news, I told myself that I would learn how to french braid my hair while it's short so I can become accustomed to it as it grows out & I have stuck to my word! 3 successful braids so far, though my arms do get exhausted & I feel feeble every time I braid it. Just as I feel weak every time I do core exercises (2 down this week! pretty good considering I spent 3 full & exhausting days in the office today) at least I'm doing it! I will get better! I can't expect myself to be good at something right off the bat, as much as I want to be for my ego's sake.

I still always feel at least a little anxious after socializing with people I am not intimately close with, & I have done an assload of socializing over the last 3 days, BUT I feel relatively unscathed after this week. 2 fumbles, which I felt I saved, & maybe I shouldn't be cataloging my social blunders mentally but also maybe mentally I'm a little left of center & I should just be OK with that, too, instead of self-monitoring so heavily. Anyway, I think the level of comfort I DO feel has a lot to do with the fact that I really just feel delightful about the people I work with; I really genuinely like them all. They are all such characters, so knowledgeable, incredibly well-intentioned, & most of them are as sassy & quippy as I enjoy in a person without the malicious undertone that often accompanies that trait.

Anyway I am trying to remind myself that bettering is incremental & when I look back at how far I have come I am proud of myself, too. Lastly, perhaps, I must shake the scolding I want to give myself at every imperfection.

It is a beautiful night & I am comfortable, listening to music & watching everything collect a thin layer of white outside of my window. I have things to look forward to, people to love, people to love me back, humble goals, & a deep appreciation for the now. I hope you, too, find a quiet sort of peace as the year wraps itself in darkness & cold. I hope spring makes you feel like you can start over if you need to. I hope you treat yourself gently tomorrow.

[alittlepudge-neverhurtnobody]

Ohhh I'm curious what kind of "might be the end times" N/J are living in? And how did that relationship weight happen/when did they individually notice it happening?

they are living in the “we’re nearing the final prediction of an apocalypse theory that has accurately predicted a bunch of other stuff so far” kind of end times! it’s alt-2016 and there are weird signals coming in from space and nobody really knows what’s going on but given the apocalypse theory … it probably isn’t good! N is kind of resigned to it, like, whatever happens happens. if the world ends he’s off the hook for student loans. J is having a much more difficult time with it. he is very much in the camp of “how am I supposed to keep doing my silly little job and my silly little tasks when the WORLD might be ENDING?” he is also learning that he has an anxiety disorder but that’s a different story.

(not that it’s abnormal to be anxious when all manner of apocalyptic bullshit is going on! I myself am anxious All The Time! but he’s realizing as all this stuff is happening that perhaps his massive uncontrollable spirals about it are not … normal?? I honestly think he might eat about that too but rn we are focusing on the happy stuff!!)

but anyway, N and J have been together for 2-3 years at this point. J was a little chubby when they got together, but he also wasn’t much for cooking so a lot of times in the pre-N era he would just make himself a packet of ramen and call it a day. but once he and N move in together, there is So Much Food all the time. N isn’t just making something for dinner, he’s making an entree and sides and bread and dessert and he’s making a little cheese plate for J to snack on while he finishes up work or watches N cook. N also buys a lot of snacks and J is the kind of person who will just eat if there’s food around whether he’s hungry or not, so it, uh, doesn’t take long.

putting the rest under a cut as it got … long … but pls feel free to ask more oc questions!!

J is a very empirical evidence kind of guy so when his pants start getting harder to button and his waistbands start folding under his belly and his shirts start getting tight around his upper arms, he starts paying attention. it’s not a huge shock given how much he’s been eating, but he’s still kind of surprised by how fast his jeans go from “a little snug but wearable” to “I have to unbutton these if I want to sit comfortably at my desk.” (never mind the always-surprising “even my sweats are getting tight now?”) so he finally takes stock and is like, “welp, time to size up!” bc there is no way he’s giving up or cutting back on N’s cooking. could he exercise? sure. is he realistically gonna get up at 5am to accompany N on his morning run? absolutely not. he’ll just buy new clothes.

N notices that J is putting on weight first though. he’s been on the lookout since the first time he cooked dinner for J and J ate three helpings and was like, “oh man, I’m going to get so fat if you cook like this all the time.�� to which N was like, “... that’s … fine!” while internally combusting. he enjoys cooking and baking for the actual activity, but he also likes having an excuse to shower people with food for … reasons. when they first started dating he was very “oh no 😇 I accidentally 😇 made 4 dozen cookies 😇 whatever will i do with them 😇?” he notices first that J’s belly is starting to press against his t-shirt and that he can see a couple stretch marks beginning to bloom down his sides. N is taller so he doesn’t have many excuses to ask J to get stuff off high shelves but J likes to do big stretches after a long day of hunching over in his desk chair, so N gets some good looks at how his stomach is starting to shelf over his waistbands. little by little he watches J’s belly button indent emerge beneath his t-shirts. J gains enough in his hips and thighs that N can tell he’s filling out their kitchen chairs a little more. the backs of his thighs are starting to dimple and his upper arms are getting so perfectly, squeezably chubby and it’s taking everything he’s got not to get too handsy and give himself away. he wants to FEEL IT! he wants to EXPLORE! especially since the bulk of J’s gain is from food HE COOKED. he wants the hands-on experience of how much he’s helped J overindulge!

he grinds his teeth and tries to be normal about it until J brings it up, which sort of backfires but also sort of works out because J has his own theories that N likes it and starts making offhanded comments about his gut getting bigger and “maybe I should start hitting the gym” to smoke him out. (J is a queer computer nerd who almost certainly had a traumatic time in middle school PE, he is not going to the gym.) N comes clean and J is very chill with it. he’s gonna keep enjoying N’s food anyway, he might as well have fun teasing him while he does it! he gets a lot of mileage out of it. ate too much at a work function? he can tease N by telling him how much he ate while getting a belly rub and “forgetting” to stifle his burps. got weighed at a doctor’s appointment? he’s gonna whisper that number into N’s ear while they’re making out later. out of breath bc the work elevator is broken and he had to take the stairs? might as well leave N a voicemail so he can hear how out of shape he is. tipsy after drinks with his coworkers? the only cure is cuddling with N and asking him to feed him the pizza J impulse-ordered on his way home. had a big meal and now all of his pants are a little too tight on his belly? time to sprawl on the couch and let his belly hang out unencumbered while he groans and whines about how he knew he was overdoing it, but it was too good to stop. helping N in the kitchen? his belly’s so heavy, guess he’ll have to just rest it on the countertop. none of it is kinky for him but he’s having a GREAT time nonetheless. turning N on is the real reward. (N is in feedist hell but also feedist heaven. never in his wildest dreams could he have hoped for a boyfriend who’s not only cool about his kinks, but is also so enthusiastic about indulging them.)

J puts on 60-70 pounds over the course of their first year together — the first half go on pretty quickly and the second half more gradually — and retires his outgrown t-shirts to wear around the house for N to appreciate. he plateaus around there for the most part but slowly gains a little more as their relationship progresses, and he always gets a little heavier around the holidays while N tests out recipes and bakes a metric fuckload of cookies for everyone they know. at family gatherings J tells everyone who makes a comment about his weight or aims a pointed look at his belly that N is such a great cook and is keeping him so well-fed and gives his belly a little pat or a jiggle. it gives N the vapors. (later J shows him some pictures from college and casually drops that he’s gained almost a hundred pounds since then. N is going to think about that for a LONG time.)

he grinds his teeth and tries to be normal about it until J brings it up, which sort of backfires but also sort of works out because J has his own theories that N likes it and starts making offhanded comments about his gut getting bigger and “maybe I should start hitting the gym” to smoke him out. (J is a queer computer nerd who almost certainly had a traumatic time in middle school PE, he is not going to the gym.) N comes clean and J is very chill with it. he’s gonna keep enjoying N’s food anyway, he might as well have fun teasing him while he does it! he gets a lot of mileage out of it. ate too much at a work function? he can tease N by telling him how much he ate while getting a belly rub and “forgetting” to stifle his burps. got weighed at a doctor’s appointment? he’s gonna whisper that number into N’s ear while they’re making out later. out of breath bc the work elevator is broken and he had to take the stairs? might as well leave N a voicemail so he can hear how out of shape he is. tipsy after drinks with his coworkers? the only cure is cuddling with N and asking him to feed him the pizza J impulse-ordered on his way home. had a big meal and now all of his pants are a little too tight on his belly? time to sprawl on the couch and let his belly hang out unencumbered while he groans and whines about how he knew he was overdoing it, but it was too good to stop. helping N in the kitchen? his belly’s so heavy, guess he’ll have to just rest it on the countertop. it isn’t kinky for him but he’s having a GREAT time nonetheless. turning N on is the real reward. (N is in feedist hell but also feedist heaven. never in his wildest dreams could he have hoped for a boyfriend who’s not only cool about his kinks, but is also so enthusiastic about indulging them.)

J puts on 60-70 pounds over the course of their first year together — the first half go on pretty quickly and the second half more gradually — and retires his outgrown t-shirts to wear around the house for N to appreciate. he plateaus around there for the most part but slowly gains a little more as their relationship progresses, and he always gets a little heavier around the holidays while N tests out recipes and bakes a metric fuckload of cookies for everyone they know. at family gatherings J tells everyone who makes a comment about his weight or aims a pointed look at his belly that N is such a great cook and is keeping him so well-fed and gives his belly a little pat or a jiggle. it gives N the vapors. (later J shows him some pictures from college and casually drops that he’s gained almost a hundred pounds since then. N is going to think about that for a LONG time.)

[belovedspector]

All I've Ever Known Is How to Hold My Own (But Now I Wanna Hold You, Too) - Chapter 2

Pairings: Steven Grant x Layla El-Faouly, Marc Spector x Layla El-Faouly

Chapter Summary: How does Layla end up in Chicago, anyway? Meanwhile, Marc and Steven tackle their first day of classes.

Content/Warnings: College!AU. Quick allusion to Randall Spector's death

Word Count: ~600

A/N: Here it is, chapter 2! Enjoy! :)

Chapter 1 | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Layla El-Faouly’s circle is small. It’s more of a dot, really—her father, Adballah El-Faouly.

Growing up, she tags along on archaeological digs with him, fascinated by the entire process. She has never wavered on wanting to follow in his footsteps.

As she gets older, she becomes more involved in the digs. Just like her father, she is fiercely passionate about repatriation—returning stolen artifacts to their country of origin. At just 17, she co-authors a paper with him on the subject.

That paper gets her noticed by schools near and far that offer her scholarships. One is a little school outside of Chicago. She doesn’t think twice about it, is planning on staying in Egypt, until she gets a personalized letter from the head of the school’s archaeology department. In her letter, Dr. Dalila Rashad explains that she, too, is Egyptian and cares deeply about repatriation. She emphasizes how much she and the rest of the archaeology department would love to have Layla study at Northern Illinois University.

The letter is enough to win over Layla. There aren’t a lot of archaeological digs in Chicago, but she’s up for the adventure nonetheless.

So, one day, she packs her bags and flies to Illinois and doesn’t look back.

She’s ready to expand her circle.

It’s the first day of classes, and Marc is anything but excited. He hates the icebreakers, hates having to introduce himself. He hates the attention on him, prefers to just keep his head down and do his work.

Marc has never really liked school. He can’t sit still, can’t focus. He’s not dumb—far from it—but just doesn’t do well in a traditional classroom setting. Steven, on the other hand, thrives in a school environment.

Despite this, Marc and Steven decided that Marc would be the one to front during classes. When they were younger, it was easy enough for teachers to look the other way when “Marc” started speaking with a British accent and writing with totally different handwriting. They chalked it up to the grief of losing his brother, and so they left him mostly alone. Now, though, Marc and Steven know that to blend in, they’ll need to keep Steven from fronting in class.

They’ve had many years at this point to master co-consciousness and smooth shifts. Steven promises that he’ll be there to help take notes and follow along during lectures, something he knows Marc struggles with. But, Marc will have to be the one to actually participate in class.

Marc sighs as his intro to business professor finishes going over the syllabus. He knows what is coming next, and he’s not looking forward to it.

“You’ve got this,” Steven encourages from the headspace. Marc makes a face but doesn’t reply.

“Okay, now that that’s out of the way, let’s get to know each other, shall we?” the professor says, clapping her hands together once. “I want us to go around the room and each ask another student a question.” She points to a girl in the front row to get things started.

And so, they go from one student to the next, asking and answering questions, some more enthusiastically than others.

Finally, a boy turns to Marc and asks, “Uh, do you have any siblings?”

Fuck. Of course that’s the question he gets.

“No,” Marc lies through gritted teeth. It’s easier this way—no need to trauma-dump to a class full of poor, unsuspecting students.

The rest of the class goes by quickly. They finish up the exercise and are dismissed early. Marc and Steven have enough time to go back to their dorm for a bit before their next class.

Marc flops onto his bed and groans. One class down, two to go.

It’s gonna be a long semester, he thinks.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Please feel free to let me know what you think! :)