#but on the treadmill it’s… could stop whenever no walk of shame

[daisychainsandbowties]

the best thing about running on the treadmill is i can design playlists to goad myself into running further like i know exactly when i hit my wall so i’ll have sia’s “the greatest” come on and i’ll be there 😭😭😭😭😭 “yeah sia i got stamina” and then when i’m hitting the end of that song i have the black sails theme come on and i get lost in lesbian thoughts about james flint (???) for the duration and THEN when i return to my fragile body the next song is “in the flood” from horizon forbidden west and i’m there 😤😤 aloy would NEVER stop running and then wooo i ran another few kilometres got played got gaynipulated by myself

[3rensgf]

stupid/annoying, but endearing, things they do in a relationship eren, armin, jean, connie, erwin, levi, reiner, bertholdt, porco, zeke, colt, hanji, mikasa, sasha, annie, pieck

word count: 2.3k

warnings: one mention of sex in erens, reader uses makeup in jeans, mentions of injuries and dilf!reiner in reiners

notes: this is a gn!reader. there are mentions of makeup being used, but i feel like any gender can use makeup. it's not even anything serious like a beat face. just some lip gloss n mascara. chapstick too but thats not makeup. it's just one line, so you can skip over it if you would like to!

✩ eren bites you. its not even in a sexual way, he just likes to bite. they’re like a second form of kissing to him. you could be chilling together on the couch watching a movie, and he’ll just chomp on your shoulder. even when you were trying to focus on something, he swings by, bites then leaves. eren has no shame, so he does it in front of your friends too. you could be having a normal conversation with mikasa and he’ll just bite you, then the two of you carry on as if it was normal. it’s not normal. but you love it. sometimes you bite him back too. but only in private.

✩ armin gives you random things he finds. armin likes to go out and explore, with or without you. when he comes back after an adventure you opted out of, he always has something for you he found. a rock, a seashell or a cool flower are just some of the things he gets for you. if he can’t find something, he finds a gift shop to get you something instead, saying, “well, (y/n), i did find it in the gift shop.” he always looks so proud giving it to you, rambling about the story of how he found your gift. you have a small box tucked away with all the treasures he gives you.

✩ jean steals your things. whenever he comes over, he likes to mooch off your possessions. if he’s spending the night at your place and needs a shower, he’s using your shampoo, conditioner and body wash. if his lips are chapped, he swipes your lip balm to use on himself. one time you even walked in on him trying your mascara and lip gloss. another time he had your clothes on his giant frame. but he always replaces whatever he uses, venmoing you within the next few days with some cash and a sorry note. “sorry for using ur lip balm baby, buy some more <3” with $20 attached to it. you tell him that lip balm doesn’t even cost that much, but he tells you to treat yourself to lunch with the extra money.

✩ connie makes plans without letting you know beforehand. at 3am, you are woken up by an influx of messages and calls from your boyfriend. in your sleepy state you go to answer him, only to be told to get dressed and come out. he’s right outside of your house and hungry. you remind him it’s very early in the morning and you both have class. “but i’m hungry and craving burgers,” he repeats. you have no choice to get in the car with him. this can happen throughout the day, not just early in the morning. one time he whisked you away in the middle of your online class because he didn’t tell you he bought tickets to a movie showing in 30 minutes. the memories you share on these spontaneous dates are always your favorite ones with him.

✩ erwin buys you whatever you like in bulk. it’s not even an exaggeration when you say bulk. you mention one thing to him, and the next day there are boxes upon boxes sitting on your kitchen counter. “these oranges taste pretty good,” you mumble to yourself as you peel your 2nd one. erwins sharp ears hear this, and first thing in the morning he’s off to buy multiple bags of your supposed favorite oranges. it takes you days, sometimes weeks, to finish whatever he decided to buy you. you always tell him he doesn’t need to buy so much, but he never listens. though, you always appreciate how attentive he is to your likes and dislikes.

✩ levi cleans up for you and ruins your organization. it’s always a blessing when someone else decides to take on the burden of cleaning for you, and you thought you hit the jackpot with a boyfriend who loved to clean, clean, clean. but it could get annoying when you suddenly couldn’t find anything you placed anywhere. if you’re anything like me, you’re messy but organized. you know where things are. when levi comes to clean, he places things where he thinks they should go. you’re sent on a wild goose chase looking for your pencil case, only for it to be in a completely different drawer than the one you usually kept it in. despite this behavior, it’s always nice to come home from a long day from school to see your desk organized. what was once a mess of papers and other supplies have been filed into their correct places, the table wiped down from any lingering coffee stains and your supplies being organized in a way so you knew where everything was. sometimes there’d be a plate of fruit with the note, “good luck on your exams,” written in your boyfriends neat writing beside it.

✩ reiner coddles you too much. whenever you express any sort of discomfort, reiner is always rushing to your side. “are you hurt? do you need medical attention? how many fingers am i holding up?” he asks, checking you for any cuts or bruises. thank you, honey, but i’m fine. just bumped into the counter. despite that, he’s dragging you over to the bathroom to fix up your imaginary injuries. you always find it a bit much when you’re fine. it’s during the times where you’re actually hurt where you learn to appreciate it. he’s so gentle cleaning your cuts, kissing them softly once they’re dressed. you wonder if he’d be like that with your future children.

✩ bertholdt is too nervous around you. it’s been years since the two of you got together, and he still refuses to make eye contact with you. his hands get sweaty and shake when you attempt to hold his hand. he always stumbles over his words when speaking to you as he tries to find the right words to say. he even blushes when he introduces you to other people as his significant other! you remind bertholdt over and over again that he doesn’t need to be so shy around you. but you cant help but coo over him showing up for your date, flustered mess and thrusting flowers into your hand. “they reminded me of you,” he said quietly, refusing to meet your eyes. you giggle and press a kiss to his hot cheeks.

✩ porco is too cocky for his own good. he’s always parading around the house, boasting about his latest achievements. he beat colt in a video game colt was a supposed god in. he can throw a baseball farther than zeke. he can run faster than pieck. if he’s taller than you, he's always making fun of you for being shorter than him. if you’re taller, you’re not exempt from his wrath either. he’s boasting about how he’s perfect height to not hit his head on doorways. he never goes as far as to hurt your feelings, always knowing when to stop. though he has a big ego, he would let it crash and burn just to see you smile after beating him at smash bros. you laugh and taunt him, happy you beat him in one thing. he doesn’t mind, instead watching you with a soft smile on his lips and love in his eyes.

✩ zeke forces you to work out with him. and it’s not like in the afternoon to help you stretch out. it’s not light yoga or a couple minutes on the treadmill. no, this man wakes you up at ass crack in the morning to take you on a 5 mile hiking trip. you barely have any time to register what is happening around you before you’re already standing at the start of the trail with your gear. “come on! we can’t slack off!” he says, clapping his hands together. the sun is beating down on you and your feet hurt, but this man doesn’t let you stop for a break. “we’re almost there,” he says. your complaining goes out the window when he shows you the view at the top. its one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen. hiking up long ass trails to see beautiful views with your boyfriend was so worth it in the end.

✩ colt accidentally turns your dates into babysitting sessions. you show up at his house with the promise of a good time, only to be met with a guilty looking colt and his little brother falco behind him. “sorry,” he says sheepishly, “gabi got sick with the cold, so i couldn’t drop him off there. i hope you don’t mind him staying.” you hide your disappointment behind a wide smile, nodding enthusiastically as to not hurt either of their feelings. you just wanted to spend some alone time with your boyfriend, and it would have to wait. hanging out with falco wasn’t actually that bad. the three of you had an amazing time together, watching tv, playing games and even baking together. if you hate kids, you can’t bring yourself to hate falco; he’s just the sweetest boy you’ve ever met. you and falco are already asking colt when the three of you can hang out again when you have to go back home.

✩ hanji is always talking. you don’t discourage them from talking about their interests. they’re very passionate about the things they love, and can’t help talking about them. its like the scene where hanji kept eren up all night talking about titans. when you’re trying to focus on something or go to sleep, hanji is just yapping away. you’re honestly amazed at their ability to never run out of things to say about the most mundane things. hell, one time they talked for an hour and a half about a building color they saw when they were out one day. but hanji just looked so happy when talking. their face would break out into a huge grin, and their arms would fly around as they told their story. it was too cute for you to tell them to stop.

✩ mikasa hovers too much. every corner you turn, every place you go to, mikasa is following. she claims she’s not clingy, but in reality she is. it’s like a cat who hates affection, but needs to be in the same room as you at all times. you don’t mind her following you into the bedroom or living room or kitchen. you had to draw a line when she tried to follow you into the bathroom. even when you’re out, she’s always following you around. you tell her it’s okay to break off from you and spend some time by herself, but she always shakes her head and follows you to your next destination. you’re always grateful for her hovering when a group of drunk people try hitting on you, whistling and telling you they’ll give you a good time. but one look at your girlfriend who showed up from out of nowhere, and they’re running away with their tails between their legs.

✩ sasha eats your food. she can’t help it. she likes to snack. she’s always hungry. and you get that. to stop things like this from happening, you have separate places to keep your food. just so sasha and you have your favorite snacks and takeout separated. you respect the rule, but your girlfriend seems to lose her reading skills when hungry, one too many times you have walked in on her with her hand deep into a bag of your chips, something you’ve been waiting to eat all week when you were supposed to watch that new horror movie on netflix with her. you huff and puff and retreat to your bedroom. sasha comes back after a few hours, looking upset with tons and tons of snacks in her arms. “i’m sorry i ate your chips,” she frowns. she sets down all the food she got on your bed. “i got all these snacks you liked as an apology. and 3 bags of your favorite chips.” you could never stay mad at her cute face.

✩ annie complains about spending time with you. “i like my alone time,” she says, brushing you off when you asked why she didn’t want to watch a movie with you. some people were introverted, preferring to spend time by themselves rather than with someone else. you were like that too; you had your moments where you didn’t feel like being around your girlfriend. but it became an annoying problem when she constantly shot down your attempts to hang out with you. when she finally agrees, she’s always finding something to complain about. but during important dates or when you’re not in the best mood, she’s always the first to remind you or initiate a hang out/date. she shuts her mouth and enjoys her time with you, not one criticism or groan leaving her lips. she would never admit it, but being around you made her so happy.

✩ pieck is always sleeping. you have to wait a few hours to get a text or call back from pieck because she’s always dozing off somewhere. “sorry sweets,” she yawns into the mic, “was taking a nap. need something?” good luck trying to reach your girlfriend during an emergency. when you come home with takeout for dinner because neither of you wanted to cook, she’s sleeping at the dinner table. when you’re watching a movie she wanted to watch, she’s snoring away, curled up at the end of the couch. during lectures you share together, she has her head in her arms and has the audacity to ask you for your notes in the end. and it’s not like she’s not getting enough sleep, no. she gets her recommended 8 hours of sleep and then some. it’s nice to have a sleepy girlfriend, though, when you’re dead tired from living. you drag your feet into the bedroom to see her about to take her nth nap for the day. she notices your zombie-like state and opens up her arms for you. the two of you cuddle and nap together, sleeping the stress away.

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[tempestsreach-blog]

Fuck Diet Culture

This is going to be long.  It’s going to be rambly.  It’s going to be sad.  It’s going to be angry.  There’s going to be language some people don’t like. I can’t NOT talk about it though. 

Fuck diet culture.  Let me say that again.  Fuck. Diet. Culture. It has taken such a huge chunk out of my life.  I have lost pieces of myself I’m not sure I’ll ever get back.  The only way to heal is to go through.  I can’t go back.  I have to move forward.  But I can’t do it quietly.  I can’t hide.  I can’t live in the same shame I’ve spent the last 40 years in.  Literally.  40 years of my life wasted to this.  I can’t bear to live the back half of my life in the same way.  What the hell is the point? I’m not going to write this in any particular order because all of the thoughts and feelings swimming around are snapshots of things in my life that diet culture has broken in me or stolen from me. A lot of you aren’t going to agree with me.  That’s okay.  Truly.  This is about ME.  This is to help ME heal.  You can talk to me about your struggles, your diets, your ups and downs, your successes and whatnot.  I am here for you in all of it. But I won’t diet with you anymore.  Never again.

Currently I am having severe knee pain.  One knee is worse than the other, but both are bad.  I should go to the doctor.  I should have gone to the doctor years ago for it.  Want to know why I didn’t?  My weight.  I have injuries from overuse and over exercise and I am terrified that I am going to go to the doctor and the first words they’re going to say are “Well, if you lost 20, 30, 40, 50 pounds, it probably wouldn’t hurt so much.” instead of listening to me, examining me, scanning my knees and HELPING me.  I don’t feel this way irrationally.  This shit happens.  I am in pain.  I don’t know how to get help without being told to go on another diet that will not work.

Because diets don’t work.  Not long term.  I am excellent at losing weight!  I’ve done it over and over and over.  Then I stop restricting, counting, starving, and pushing myself.  Then my body says “What the fuck were you doing?” and puts it back. I lost the ability years ago to know whether I’m actually hungry or not.  I eat too fast when I do eat because if I snarf it down super fast I can get it in before my brain says “You’ve had too much.  Did you count those calories?  How many miles on a treadmill will you do to make up for that?  Did you actually earn this meal?”

Every time.  Every meal.  Every morsel.

I have never been officially diagnosed with an eating disorder.  Only been told by therapists and psychiatrists that I definitely engage in disordered eating.

No shit.

Every diet under the sun.  Cabbage soup.  Phen Fen.  Weight watchers (MULTIPLE TIMES), TOPS, Noom, My Fitness Pal calorie counting, intermittent fasting,  and every whacky bullshit thing in between promising results.  I’ve purchased fancy scales.  I’ve even tried one that wouldn’t show you your weight, but the color of your progress in the app.  Here’s a hint… if you gain, your color is black like death.  I’ve failed a million times and I’ve blamed myself.  I am the failure.  So I hate my body a little more every day and I stress about how I’m going to NOT pass my disordered eating and my food issues onto my kids.  My stress levels are through the roof and 98% of it is diet culture related. What the fuck is that about? Every time I start a program I hit it hard.  Last time I tried anything involving tracking or counting I was so starving by the time I got home from work that I almost ripped a child’s head off (not literally OBVIOUSLY) but I screamed at her at the top of my lungs because she hurt my feelings.  It wasn’t until after finally allowing myself to eat another morsel of food that I realized I was hangry.

Why is living in a larger body not acceptable?  We all talk about diversity and equality as though we believe it with our whole hearts, but that doesn’t cross over to fat.  Or skinny if we’re really being honest.  How many times have you heard or seen online “Oh my god, she’s so skinny.  Feed her a damn cheeseburger!  She looks anorexic.”  I know I have.  I know I’ve said those words.  I will punch myself in the gut if I ever say them again.  

Every body is different.  We are supposed to be.  Let’s not BLAME genetics like it’s a bad thing.  Let’s realize that it’s what nature has intended.  My father is over 6 feet tall and a large man.  He’s just a big man.  He went on Nutri System when I was young, lost a ton of weight, and put a bunch back on over the years because he is a big man.  My mother was not tall, but was always large.  I hated her body because HER PARENTS told her all the time she was fat and unworthy and cautioned me not to grow up to be like her in any way.  Even when she was poor and homeless she was still large.  That was the way her body was.  I wonder how different her life might have been if the size of her body hadn’t been a factor in the way she was raised or treated.  How might that have made my life different?

I know a lot of you are probably rolling your eyes at me right now about being vocal about another health plan or saying to yourself “just because you have trouble with diets doesn’t mean they don’t work”  I know there are people close to me thinking “She just always gets excited when she discovers a new diet, that’s probably what this is.”  NO.  

This is me finally realizing that I can heal and healing doesn’t mean I need to weigh 157 pounds. (That’s the weight limit for women my height to enter the air force when I did in 1992) This is me finally realizing that I’ve been lying about the weight on my drivers license for 30 years because gods forbid anyone saw my real weight on that document. This is me realizing that I’ve spent my life trying to live up to other people’s ideals of what I should look like because I assumed they wouldn’t like me otherwise. This is me realizing how much unintentional harm I could have been doing when sharing another diet, another idea, another bout of “well this is working really well for me!” with people I care about. This is me realizing how much damage I’ve been doing to myself living with this level of shame for 40 years. Hiding what I’m doing.  Suffering in silence.  Hiding food. Restricting.  Binging.  Over exercising to compensate.  Spending money on one last diet.  Spending emotional energy on one last hope. We were in Las Vegas for what was supposed to be a fun vacation last week and I was so hot and miserable and so steeped in hating my body because my painful knees were betraying me that my internal monologue was a never ending loop of “I’ll hit weight watchers REALLY HARD when we get home and get rid of this weight, then I’ll figure out my knees and work on maintenance” Let me say that again, clearly.  I struggled to enjoy my vacation because I was obsessing about restricting food AFTER my vacation. One last time.  One last meal.

BULLSHIT.

We walked by shops with weird and pretty fashion dresses. (I freely admit I don’t understand fashion) the husband and I would both point out ones we thought were pretty.  My brain would get stuck on “Yeah, but they don’t make them in my size” or “Yeah, that would NOT look good on me.  It looks fine on that size 0 mannequin”  Pretty on other people.  Other people are pretty.  Not me. Diet culture is pervasive and all consuming.  In big ways and little ways.  I’m 5 ft 9.  I’m not a tiny person at any weight.  I’ve always been told I’m too big.  Even when I sit, I slouch a little and/or tuck my legs and feet up under me to try to make myself appear smaller and less invasive.  This is subconscious.  I don’t always realize I’m doing it until my knees remind me. Most of my life has been things that get in the way of my diets.  “I should start the diet today, but it’ll have to wait until next week because so and so’s birthday is this week and I want to be able to enjoy that.”  or “It’s late fall, I should just start now but first there’s my birthday, and then Thanksgiving, and December happens and there’s all kinds of treats then.  Better wait until January, but not the first because that’s new year’s...maybe the following Monday.” or the ever popular “I already had a bad eating day today, I’m a failure.  Why bother?  Fuck it.  I’ll try again tomorrow.”  That one was always followed by binging because of the last supper mentality.  If I’m starting a diet tomorrow I better eat EVERYTHING NOW. This is how I’ve lived my whole life.  The time not spent dieting was just the time in between diets where I was planning my next diet.  So much life wasted.  The only time I was not actively dieting or planning the next diet or suffering from “I’m just too exhausting to put effort into food right now” was during my 4 pregnancies.  I let myself eat whatever and whenever because I was nauseous all the time anyway and something in my brain made me fuel my body for the babies. When the youngest was born and the on call doctor who delivered her told me I was too fat to have my tubes tied I definitely started planning diets again in that moment.  I believe now, years later, that my diet and diet culture ruined mind and body is part of what kept me from being as successful at nursing the kids as I wished I had been.  I assumed my body was broken and not good enough for my babies.  The last time I lost a LOT of weight it was because I didn’t want to ruin someone’s wedding pictures.  True story.  This was nothing that person felt or anything they told me.  IT’s what my brain said to me.  It’s how I de-valued myself.  There are very few current pictures of me now because I’ve been stuck in a place where I feel shame when I see them. When I’m dead, memories and pictures are all my kids and grandkids will have, and I hate myself too much to let anyone take them. That’s not okay.

I dream about food.  I daydream about food.  Food I “shouldn’t” eat.  Food I “should” eat.  When to eat.  When not to eat.  Every spare ounce of energy is spent thinking about food or hating myself which leads to more thinking about food. I am not in a place where I can prepare dinner for my family right now because it’s too hard to put that much energy into food.  I force myself to pick the recipes from the app and get the shopping done via instacart so all anyone else has to do is pull up the recipe and make the food.  If I’m looking at the ingredients or trying to prep anything I stare at every individual thing debating whether or not I “should” eat it.  This is going to take me a long time to break free from.  Today I finally feel like I CAN break free. There is nothing wrong with being in a large body or a small body.  Food is not good or bad.  Food is food.  I have to say these things.  I have to repeat them to myself or I fall down the rabbit hole again.  None of this is work anyone can do for me.  I have to live it.  I have to work through it.  I have to figure it out. If you read this far, my statement stands.  If you’re on a diet, I will listen to your woes and hold your hand and I will not judge you for it.  This was very hard to write because I am certain some of you who believe in diets, ways of life, and wellness eating may block me now because I spoke my mind.  I’ve clung so tight to the people I love and refrained from being honest and speaking my mind for fear of abandonment.  I’ll have to live with it if that’s the case here, because people sometimes need to do what’s best for them.  Airing this out is one of those things for me.  It’s a scary thing for sure. I also want to say that I’m happy for this to lead to discussion.  I’m not going to shut anyone down for wanting to talk to me about this.  I am always open to learn new information and see different perspectives.  Just know that if I’m emotional and feeling a lot of strong things about how my life has been up to this point, and I am entitled to believe what I believe just as you all are.  I’m happy to share sources and books I’ve been reading on the subject.  They are not diet books.

Here’s to doing better from here on out.

Here’s to finally being free.

[crimsonbluemoon]

Working For Love: A TerrorMoo Story 5/17

Happy Sunday! I’m still feeling gross, but good enough to get this chapter out. So I hope you enjoy this one and the next one coming out at 7pm tonight. 

Previous Part

Start from the beginning 

Having Mini as a friend was dangerous. 

Brock stared at his name written in Craig’s loopy handwriting on the sign up for yoga, unsure what emotion to settle on. Anger, confusion, and shock were on the top of the list, though anxiety had been making a steady incline when he realized who the instructor for the 4pm class was. 

“No way.”

“He’s already seen we’re signed up,” Craig said, tugging on Brock’s arm to pull him away from the gym’s bulletin board. Much to Brock’s fear, they didn’t move toward the treadmills, passing his comfort zone when they stepped into another part of the gym. Brock had never had a reason to go beyond the stretching corner, as he’d only learned recently about the classes offered. He hadn’t lied to Brian when he said he’d look over the different exercise programs; he practically stared at the schedule every night before going to bed. Each time he would look at the next day’s classes, pick out which one he would attend, and go to bed with the confidence of starting the next step to his weight loss. Fourteen pounds had been shed during the first two months, and Brock didn’t want to let himself slow down. But by the time morning hit his bed the next day, sleep had claimed his courage and he found himself on the treadmill yet again. 

Then Hurricane Mini happened, and Brock didn’t have a choice. 

“I don’t know the first thing about yoga,” Brock said, knowing that his attempt to escape the class would be blissfully ignored by his friend. Mini, with no hint of sympathy, pushed through the door of the classroom with confidence that a beginner shouldn’t have had. 

“That’s why we’re here to learn. And honestly, does this look like a competitive group?” In truth, Craig was right; there were only women now milling around the room, and none of them could be younger than 50. It was a weird comfort of sorts, knowing there wouldn’t be other men to judge him and the way his arms sagged in certain positions. 

“I’m only trying one class, Mini.” 

“One class? I just read a sign that said we get a free smoothie after class; I’m going to live here.�� The women didn’t seem to mind them joining, some even cooing at the ‘cute younger men’ making the room brighter. Brock sputtered while Craig preened at the compliments, letting the women even pinch his cheeks. It took far longer than it should have to drag Mini to the back corner of the room, laying out the new mats his friend had bought for the class. Craig didn’t look happy to be ‘shoved into a corner’, but he didn’t get a chance to voice his complaint when the door of the room swung open again.

“Hey ladies, welcome back.” Brian’s grin was infectious when he walked to the front of the room. Brock could nearly see the hearts growing in the women’s eyes when he walked by them, though his face went red after realizing their gazes drifted a little lower than he’d expected. From the snort of laughter Mini gave out, he’d caught on to the women’s interest too. Brian’s legs were covered by compression pants, leaving little to the imagination. The sleeveless top didn’t make it any easier to keep Brock’s stomach from flipping, and he dropped his eyes to where his hands had started to smooth out his mat. He swore he heard a mini whistle to the right of him, making him nearly choke on his spit at the confidence of the women. 

“He really knows how to make an entrance, huh?” Mini’s whisper made Brock send him a warning glare, palms a little rougher in their pushing of mat. 

“Stop staring, he’s not a painting.” 

“He is definitely a work of art.” The response wasn’t from Mini, but from the woman (she had to be his grandmother’s age!) a few feet in front of them. Brock wanted to melt into his mat when he looked back up at Brian, hating that parts of him (he wasn’t saying which) really did appreciate Brian’s beauty. But this was his friend now, someone he had started to really like. He didn’t want to just see his physical aspects and-

“Let’s start off with our downward facing dog to get stretched out.” Okay, his thighs looked really good in that position. Brock wanted to say he was better than the women in the room, that he didn’t take a few extra seconds of watching Brian’s muscles flow into the position before even thinking of pulling his jaw back up from the floor. He really wanted to say that. 

But he only remembered how to move when Mini poked him in the side to show everyone else had started their yoga pose. 

Embarrassment filled his stomach when he hurried into the stance, but luckily any more distracting thoughts of how nice Brian’s skin looked against the dark green of his tank top was lost when realizing something else terrifying; Brock didn’t have balance. Mini, despite being a mess in life, was quickly picking up on the intricacies of yoga without much guidance. Brock wanted to flow into it as easily as his friend, or even the women who were twice his age. But Brock’s body had been shifting over the past couple months, and muscle and weight in different places left him off-kilter. He hated that he toppled over during the triangle pose, and that he couldn’t fully bend for the seated forward fold. He felt his stomach roll over itself in the position, and the shame and self-doubt roared through him while he ducked his head between his biceps and squeezed his eyes closed. Yoga was meant to be relaxing and inspiring, wasn’t it? 

So how come Brock felt so clumsy and obtuse? 

“Your heels aren’t set right, Brocky.” Brian’s voice pulled him out of his negative headspace, chasing away the thoughts with a soft smile and a slow offered palm. “Is it okay if I show you something?” 

“Oh, um, ye-yes.” Brock had seen Brian fix other’s poses throughout the session, which he was sure some of the women messed up on purpose just to be corrected. This was a normal, routine touch given from an instructor to his student. But Brock could still feel the weird way his sweatpants cut into the fat around his hips, and he nearly flinched when Brian’s hand moved to his ankle. 

“When you do the bridge pose, it’s focusing on opening up your chest while stretching your neck and spine. If you don’t have your feet placed under your knees properly, you won’t get that channel to breathe properly.” Brian’s hands didn’t seem bothered by the extra weight when they travelled up his calf to his hip, gentle in guiding Brock’s body into the bridge position. The momentum shifted Brock’s weight, and though doing the pose in the way Brian presented it felt better, Brock wasn’t sure his lungs could breathe with the warm hand on his waist. “This is also a good one to use to help with rising anxiety or if you’re having digestive problems.” 

“It’s gonna help with something rising, that’s for sure.” Mini’s muttered answer didn’t help Brock’s butterflies, and he tried to keep his composure when glancing up to Brian and forcing out a smile. 

“Thanks.” The slight pat on Brock’s hip before Brian pulled away nearly made him collapse in the pose, though he held on. Craig, however, had no problem in crumpling to the floor in laughter, and even some of the women sent bemused smiles and giggles Brock’s way when switching into the half-moon pose. Brian didn’t acknowledge any of the commotion, which Brock was grateful for, and he managed to finish the rest of the yoga class without embarrassing himself further. The hour had been more exhausting than he’d expected, but his muscles buzzed with a happy tiredness when he pushed out of their final pose to roll up the mats. 

“That was so nice. I needed this.” Craig chirped out with a pep in his step, rolling his mat to the back of his neck before flopping his forearms around it. “You ready for a strawberry mango surprise? Martha says she can get us extra strawberries if we get there before the other women.” 

“Only if you want rum in your smoothie.” Brian’s teasing tone pulled Brock’s attention behind him, seeing the trainer grin and step into their space. “Those women just use yoga as an excuse to drink booze before 5 pm, though they make sure to sneak their nips in when Tyler’s not around.” 

“Why wasn’t I born a middle-aged married woman? They sound like so much fun.” The wistful sigh of Mini made Brock laugh and shake his head before turning his attention back to Brian. 

“Thank you for the class, it was really nice.” 

“No problem. Trying out different types of exercise will help keep your body from getting used to your style of working out, so take as many classes as you can. Which is why I came over to begin with.” Brock showed his confusion with a tilt of his head, catching the small twitch of something (affection couldn’t be the right word) of his lips while he smiled. “When Craig signed you two up, he put your name first. That technically means that you’re my 100th member to sign up for yoga this month.”

“I’m feeling there’s a prize for this, and I’m never putting you first again, Brock.” Mini’s humor didn’t help some of Brock’s uneasy energy when he pushed his weight between his two feet, hoping not to show his discomfort from the attention. 

“It just means you get a private training session with me that you can cash in anytime. It can be another yoga hour or something else in the gym, but it’s tailored to what you wanna focus on.” The explanation had Brock’s hearth lodging itself into his throat while his stomach dropped out onto the floor, and he wasn’t sure which reaction to focus on. 

“O-oh, that’s um… that’s nice, but Mini wrote the names so-”

“He’ll take it.” Craig cut in without hesitation, leaving no time for Brock to put up a fight. “Unless my free lesson is with a smoothie cocktail or run by a grumpy and preferably half-naked gym owner, I ain’t interested. It’d just go to waste on me. Take him whenever you want after smoothie hour. Brock’s all yours, and I meant that every way you can think of.” 

“Mini-”

“And if that yoga lessons happens in your bed, well-”

“We’re going now!” Brock shoved Craig’s back with his mat to get the meddling menace away from Brian, sure his face would explode from the dirty implication. He glanced back before the door could swing closed behind him, catching the pleased smirk Brian wore when he waved. Brock’s ears could produce steam from how embarrassed he was. Mini’s grin didn’t leave his face for the rest of the day, sharing hi-fives and catty whistles with the yoga women when retelling his ‘deed for society’. Brock wanted to drown him in the blueberry passion smoothie Sheila presented him. 

Having Mini as a friend wasn’t just dangerous; it was going to kill him.

And this is the first chapter released today. I love the Mini/Brock dynamic in this chapter. I cannot stress that enough <3. But I hope you enjoyed, please like, reblog, and let me know what you think! 

[malifikook]

Gym Affairs

you swear the gym was never this exciting before.

pairings: Yoongi x Reader, (slight vmin)

warnings: yoongi’s kinda a gym trainer but not really, slight smut, vmin flirting, my poor attempt at a birthday gift fic for Yoongi (I know im a day late, bear with me), typos might be there, way too long to be a one part fic lol

You swear the gym was never this exciting.

Before it used to be boring and monotonous, a chore in your already in busy life that used up too much of your precious time. You knew that you were bettering your life this way, getting into better shape and getting that dream body you had always sighed at whenever you encountered a picture of it while scrolling on Instagram, but still, it was horrible.

Because the gym was sweaty and crowded, full of men and women who had the same determined faces that never smiled back whenever you offered one, and you had assumed that, maybe, the gyms were the worst place to befriend anyone.

Your assumption was quickly shot down when you met Kim Taehyung. Clad in fucking Gucci from top to toe, he was easily the most noticeable person in the gym. You had spotted him on his first day awkwardly staring at the treadmill with his hands worrying a towel that had a sign which awfully resembled two Gs.

“It’s not a hard equipment to master.” You had piped up from behind him, hopping to stand next to him and outstretch a hand. “I’m ____, you?”

“Kim Taehyung,” he had responded easily, grasping your hand before pouting at the equipment. “Do you know how to work this?”

Oh boy, did you. You had enough mess ups and falls from enough treadmills to work your way around them.

You had helped Taehyung that day, and you two had grown close quickly. You two shared everything the together, all your secrets and hidden stories, over lunches and coffees and even, rarely, sleep overs.

It was around two months after meeting Taehyung when you were jogging steadily on your usual treadmill, hair tied up in a ponytail in a way that swung as you ran. You felt Taehyung gaze at you, his arms propped up on the arm rests of the machine as he hummed in contemplation, his treadmill turned off.

“So what do you think of Min Yoongi from the front desk?”

You nearly lost your footing at that, stumbling slightly to keep up with oh so sudden fast pace of the machine, blinking your features back into place. “W-Whatta ya mean?”

“I mean,” Taehyung sang, “Whenever I bring him handsome boy, you always tense up like I’ve shoved some vibrator up your ass.”

You winced at the imagery, hand coming front to up the speed of the run. “My butt just clenched, please stop. And no I do not tense up, what does that even mean?”

“Oh you know,” Taehyung said smugly, wiggling his eyebrows at you when you spared him a disgusted glance before carrying on, “Well if you don’t make a move on him I will.”

You glanced at him, confused, focus now turning to him as you slowed your jog. “Huh?” 

“You do know that I’m gay right.” Taehyung dead-panned.

At that you lost your footing and you tripped over your shoes, sending you flying forward and off the machine in a pile of loud smashes and groans as you rolled to the floor in pain. You groaned, hand coming up to massage your nose as you sat up on the ground. “Ow, fuck.”

“Anyways,” Taehyung continued, unfazed, as he turned to lean against the head of the machine. “Yoongi’s not really my type, so rest easy.”

“And who is?” You snorted - partly because you wanted to check if your nose was still working.

“Park Jimin.” Taehyung sighed dreamily, his eyes drifting off as if automatically to the dance rooms, and the two of you listened to the heavy beat that thrummed from the room. 

You two glanced at each other. “He does have a great butt.” You admitted, giving back the cheeky grin Taehyung wiggled at you and just as you were about to ask him to help you up, thundering steps came from the side staircase before - 

A panting Min Yoongi stood at the stop of the staircase, his striped t-shirt bearing a few wet spots that most likely came from the younger children who’d splash like maniacs in the pool area with his blonde hair messed up.

“I heard someone fall.” He gulped, regaining his breath before his eyes flicking from Taehyung to you. His eyes suddenly flattened. “Oh, it’s you who fell.”

Indignation rose up in your throat. “Excuse me!” You hissed. “Aren’t you supposed to be worried about me? Like - I’m on the fucking floor!”

Yoongi sighed, bringing a hand up to knead at his forehead before dropping his hand down to slap against his thigh. He glanced at Taehyung. “What were you talking about this time?”

You winced, having leaned back on your hands to relieve some of the pressure and your legs, eyes quickly flicking up to Taehyung. Your warning gaze had him stuttering for a second.

“Oh no,” Taehyung dropped his hands down from the machine to step off, bringing himself onto his tip toes as he exaggerated his stretch. “It seems like it’s my Yoga time. Toodles!”

You watched with your jaw dropped as the Gucci clad boy picked up his duffel bag and circled around Yoongi to get to the staircase, his gaze on you for a second to wink at you before disappearing down the staircase.

Unbelievable, you thought to yourself as you pushed to your feet. I’m gonna fucking skewer him the next time I see him.

“This is the third time, ________,”  Yoongi sighed, and it was only then did you look up, startled, and studied him. The under bags underneath his eyes were growing darker and the shirt he wore seemed too big for his body. “You can’t keep doing this, you’ll not only damage the property but your own body.”

Your cheeks burned with shame, lips pursing around as you ducked your head, running a hand through your hair. Your eyes flicked back up at Yoongi.

Have you eaten? is what you wanted to ask him, eyes flicking down to your hands as your ears burned with embarrassment as Yoongi gazed at you again. Are you skipping your meals as usual?

But none of those questions left your mouth. Dissatisfied with yourself, you took slow steps to your bag, crouching down to gather all your items before pushing to your feet. Turning around, you saw Yoongi at the stairs, hand on the railing as he watched you. 

You followed him down the stairs in silence, the change in the atmosphere so drastic you found yourself staring at the wooden table that belonged to the front desk of the gym thinking what did I do wrong?

“Hey,” Yoongi’s soft voice made your head jerk up and bring you back down to the earth. You met Yoongi’s relaxed gaze, a slight tug of his lips as he outstretched your card back to you. “Go home, I think you overworked yourself. Not to mention your bad fall.”

You winced, giving him back a tiny smile, before grasping the card and stuffing it back in your wallet, feet taking you to the exit.

“Goodbye Yoongi,” you called out, giving him a wave which he reciprocated, although a bit lazier, his elbows folded atop the table and his body leaning forward.

You stepped outside the gym, the air hot and stuffy and your cursed your choice of outfit, wiping a hand down your neck as you tried to shake of unwanted sweat. 

Just as you turned around the corner, you came to a halt and yanked your phone out, your mind repeating like a mantra: I’m gonna fucking kill you, Kim Taehyung.

“So what you’re saying is - ”

“I’m not saying anything, Kim.”

“ - that if Yoongi were to come up and ask you out on a date - ”

“Oh my god, Taehyung, quit it!” you slammed your hand down on the bouncy ball, trying to convey your anger in the best way, only for the wretched ball to bounce up in the air and drop back down with a loud boing!

You two made eye contact and that set off Taehyung into a pile of laughter, his arms coming around his waist as he laughed. “Y-You really tried I can’t.”

“Stop talking about him,” you tried again, this time feebly, eyes flickering around just in case. The stretching room was right in the centre of the ground floor and if anyone was to stand in the front they’d hear you. 

And the last thing you needed was for your gym trainer to find about your crush on him.

“Mmm,” Taehyung gave back a non-committal hum as he stretched, smirking when you glared at him. He just missed the ball you had thrown at him and you cursed your awful aiming skills in that moment.

A wave of vanilla curled right under your nose and without looking you knew who it was. Taehyung also seemed to know since his eyes perked up, body straightening, hands grasping the ball you had thrown at him.

“____!” 

The famous brown haired dancer appeared from the entrance, his movements smooth as he crossed over the wooden flooring, gentle eyes meeting yours. “How are you?” he pouted. “You haven’t attended a single of my class since the new semester started.”

You laughed, unfolding your legs out as you bent to hold the tips of your toes. “I’m a broke college kid, Jimin. And your classes aren’t cheap.”

It was true. Park Jimin wasn’t just known for his good looks - although he could be; the guy was the definition of handsome, with his sharp gaze yet soft, warm smile, his tiny, slim body, but fierce and rough dance moves - he was a living paradox.

But no, Park Jimin was known for his famous dance classes. People from all over the country, and some real eager students sometimes from abroad, came and studied under Park Jimin. The boy was a millionaire at the age of 23, and yet he chose to hold his classes at a measly gym on the 23rd Block.

This was partly due to the fact that Jimin and Yoongi went way back. Many stories were recounted by Jimin on nights spent in the dance studio and you’d keep him company, and you found out that Yoongi had taken care of Jimin when no had ever offered to.

That, to your displeasure, did not help the stupid crush you had on him.

“Well I’m off.” Jimin smiled at you, walking around the circle you and Taehyung had formed. 

As he rounded behind Taehyung, he leaned down, slowly and swiftly, to bring his hand down to tickle at Taehyung’s neck - and you knew from a hundred tickle fights that that was in fact Taehyung’s weak spot. 

“Don’t be late for class, yeah?” Jimin murmured into Taehyung’s ear, the poor boy frozen to spot with his hands tightening the grip on the ball, his eyes fallen tight and chest halted mid-breath.

Jimin flicked his eyes to you, full of mischeif and mirth, and you gave him a playful frown, lips tugging up in the end when Jimin gave you a sly wink before straightening and walking towards the studio.

“Holy fuck.” Taehyung whispered after a minute, dropping back onto the wooden floor with his arms splayed out. “I think I’m hard.” 

You rolled your eyes and threw your bottle onto the boy’s stomach.

A week later you entered the gym frazzled, your mind fuzzy and and your temper on edge. College was getting on your nerves and your friends were irritating you to no end. Did no one in college do their own work? Was it necessary for them to all the time ask for your papers hours before the deadline?

Mumbling some unpleasant words underneath your breath as you pushed open the gym door, you welcomed the warm air inside and,

“Hey there, loser. How’d college go? You’re late today.”

Giving back the smile Yoongi gifted you, you relaxed your shoulders and entered the building, making way across the carpeted floor to stand in front of the boy that leaned over the table with his arms folded to smile at you.

“College was shitty.” You shrugged when Yoongi frowned questioningly before glancing around. You took in the silence of the gym. “No one here today?”

“It’s half past eleven, ______,” Yoongi grinned as he pushed back off the table to point up at the clock that hung overhead. “Gym closes at twelve. No one’s here.”

“Oh.” Your heart sunk. You had been waiting  the whole day to get back into the gym to take a few laps in the swimming pool, the muscles in your body aching to stretch. You sighed, tapping the wooden table with your fingertips. “It’s okay, I’ll come back tomorrow early.”

You had crouched down to tie your shoes, mind reeling. What else could you do - going back to the dorm was out of the question. You needed to stay away from that area as long as possible. Maybe you could crash at Taehyung’s? You never actually had been in there, but you had seen it through the window of his car when you once rode in his car.

“Oi.”

You looked up, fingers halting on your shoes, eyes making contact with Yoongi. He was bent over the table, fingertips pressing white against the wood as he poked his head off the edge to glance at you. 

“I can give you thirty minutes tops, okay?”

You furrowed your brows at him, mouth twisting before the meaning of his words sinking and your features relaxed before lighting up. 

“You serious?”

Yoongi smiled. “Get swimming, miss.”

The water wasn’t as cold as you had expected. 

Nevertheless you had catapulted yourself into the water, diving deep and staying underneath before emerging up in a gasp, a smile making it’s way onto your face.

There was something relaxing of swimming - at least in the pools - to you. The water surrounding you, letting you loose yourself to your own world as you floated. 

You did a few laps, some more intense than the others. Gripping the ledge of the basin, you pushed yourself off and did a few more back strokes.

“Pool’s closing in five, ___, get moving!”

You flicked around, arms splayed out, to see Yoongi walking across the edge of the pool, arms full of towels and shampoos. He wore a grin, those beautiful brown eyes making your heart stutter, even under the weight of the water that pulled you down.

A gear clicked in your mind.

When was the last time you had played a prank on Yoongi?

Swimming to the center of the pool, you floated around, hair wet and sticking the back of your neck.

“Hey Yoongi!” you called out.

Yoongi turned around, humming out a hmm?, expression blank and unaware to the scheme you had in mind.

“Do you think you could - ?”

You broke off mid call with a yelp, dragging yourself down by yourself, and straight into the water. All you saw was fuzzy water around you, your ears blocked and cheeks puffed with oxygen.

This is gonna be hilarious because

Yoongi can’t swim.

You saw blurred movements above you and a splash signified he had dove into the water. 

Surprise filled you when you saw his body swimming easily to you, his worried eyes clear even through the water when he reached to you.

You felt his grip on your waist and lamely you let out a yelp, causing you to inhale a gulp of water, before you were yanked up to the surface.

Oxygen never tasted sweeter, and you inhaled in lungfuls, spluttering out the water that had gone down your throat. You tried to eyes clear your vision as you swung your head around to clear the droplets away.

“Are you okay?”

It was only then did you focus on Yoongi in front of you and - 

Oh, he was so close to you, his hands spaced around your waist and holding you firmly in his grasp, his chest heaving as he breathed, brushing against your own. 

Your eyes flicked up to his, lips sealed, hand coming up to press at his shoulder in reflex but the emotion in his eyes made you freeze, breath caught in your throat.

He was staring intensely through his wet bangs, lips parted as he panted, throat swallowing as he inspected your whole face.

“_______, are you with me?” Yoongi shook you slightly and you jerked out of your haze, nodding quickly to answer him, lips still shut as you blinked up at him.

“What’s wrong, why aren’t you talking?” Yoongi frowned, one hand coming up to grasp your chin and tilt you closer. “Ah, I bet you swallowed some water from...”

He broke off, eyes flicking from your lips to your eyes, settling there and maintaining eye contact with you. You felt his grip on your waist tighten, blunt fingertips digging harder, and pulling you closer.

Your hands settled against his shoulders, your heartbeat tripping and racing against your rib cage like a rabbit. You could feel your cheeks and ears burn, and you swallowed, glancing away.

“Fuck,” a garbled swear made your head jerk up with a surprised gaze.

Yoongi’s eyes were trained on your teeth dug deeply into your bottom lip. You quickly released it, harsh and ragged breaths leaving you as you felt how close you were with Yoongi, his nose nearly brushing against yours.

“Yoongi,” you finally whispered, gaining his attention back to your eyes. “Please.”

That one word seemed to set him off, cut the tension that had built up in between you two, and he launched himself forward, yanking you forward to his eager lips, grip bordering on bruising. You kissed him back with fervor, arms sliding around his bare neck - when did his shirt fall off? - and looping around, pulling yourself up. Gaining leverage, you kissed him back until your breath gave away.

Tipping your head to his neck when the kiss burned your lips too much, you felt him pepper kisses along your neck. His teeth scraped down your neck, one of his hands coming up to tighten on the back of your neck.

You moaned, arms tightening around Yoongi’s shoulders, heart pittering too fast for you to keep up - 

Yoongi froze beneath you and your eyes flew open, gazing through water fuzzy vision at the clear water that surrounded you both and only then did the situation actually dawn upon you:

You had kissed your gym trainer.

With slow, careful movements, Yoongi brought you back down to eye level. Swallowing, you refused to look at him, eyes trained on the dip of his collarbone and fuck that wasn’t helping. 

“Hey.” he whispered, hand coming up to rub soothingly at your arm. You finally wrenched your gaze up to him. His gaze was void of any lust he was full of before, just the usual concern, and your heart sunk. He hadn’t felt anything right? Or was he regretting it? “Go shower yeah? I’ll close up the swimming pool.”

Nodding, you pulled yourself away, somehow feeling colder all of a sudden, and wading over to the edge of the pool. Glancing back, you took in Yoongi’s pale back and your heart beat tripped: he was giving you the space to pull yourself out of the water without feeling conscious of the clinging material to your body. You had said that years ago, when you had first met him. How had he still remembered?

Pushing off the the cement edge and into the cold air, you tugged at the wet material off of your body as you scampered over to the showering room. Teeth chattering, your heart beated in rhythm to your shaking body.

In there, you stood under the hot shower for well over five minutes, swallowing as you thought back to the way Yoongi’s lips had felt kissing and mapping out scenarios over your skin, the way his hot breath had panted into your ear. A hundred and one scenarios ran through your mind and you groaned, thudding your head against the wall.

The ache in your core demanded your attention, and your eyes flicked to the door where you knew Yoongi was waiting for you. Steeling yourself that you’d leave here without touching yourself, you moved to turn off the shower when you froze. 

You hadn’t brought your bag into the showers. You had no spare clothes to change into.

Cursing out a long sentence of expletives, you ran a hand through your hair frustratedly before glancing at the door. You had no choice but to ask Yoongi to fetch your clothes for you.

Oh my god you really had to do this. You let out an agitated whine, thumping yourself on the head for being a dumb ass. 

“Okay,” you spoke to yourself after a minute, shaking your limbs. “You can do this.”

Padding over the tiled bathroom, you opened the door a notch and slowly poked your head out. “Yoongi..?”

And there he was, sitting on one of the long beach chairs, eyes trained on the water with his hands behind up propping him up. When you called him his eyes snapped to you, flicking down to the bare expanse of your neck before quickly gazing back into your eyes. “Yeah? Everything okay?”

“Um.” You had no idea how to put it politely, or discretely, your cheeks flaming as you glanced down at the water puddles forming at your feet. “Could you get my bag?”

“Huh?” Yoongi sat up, head tilted to the side at your mumbling. “I can’t hear you.”

You closed your eyes, fiercely trying to ignore the way your ears went red and curling your toes, you opened your eyes and looked back at him through the space. “My bag. I left my bag upstairs. I don’t have my clothes. Do you think you could get it for me?”

Yoongi’s eyes widened a fraction when he finally heard you, and you saw the way his eyes twitched to blink down at your neck before he got to his feet. Footsteps bringing him closer to you, he brought his hands down in front of him to pull his shirt off. “Here.”

“W-What’re you doing?” you jerked back, eyes wide and desperately trying to stay focused on his face. Which proved to be a hard task when he raised his hand to ruffle through his damp hair. 

“Wear this for now.” Yoongi pushed it into your hands. “I’ll be right back with your bag.”

You clenched the fabric in your hands, glancing down at the shirt, and nodded, turning back into the washroom to change. Pushing the door shut with your back, you rested against it and held up the shirt. It was a simple dark blue shirt, nothing too fancy.

Get over it you shook your head. Just wear the shirt. He clearly pulled away from you. He doesn’t see you that way.

A twinge ached at your heart, and you caught your somber face in the mirror of the washroom before sighing and slipping the shirt over your head. It fit you, showing your legs enough for you to hold your hands down to tug it lower.

Slipping out of the room, you stood in front of the door, hands clutching your wet and sodden swimming clothes, bare feet tickling against the tiled floor. You stared at the water of the pool, ripples drifting across the surface, and you could feel your tiredness catching up to you.

Footsteps made you look up and you saw Yoongi jog down the stairs, duffel bag slung over his shoulder as he seemed lost in his thoughts.

“Found it?” you hoarsely teased out, making him glance up.

Yoongi stopped in his tracks a couple steps away from you, hand gripping the strap of the bag as he stared at you, eyes dark, flicking up and down you before looking back into your eyes.

“You,” he croaked before clearing his throat. “You don’t have any clothes in your bag. Did you not pack for swimming?”

You stared at him, jaw dropping, hands releasing the fabric you were clutching and you crossed over to him, unzipping the bag to peer down and-

Nothing. There was nothing in your bag.

“Fuck.” You swore under your breath, hand coming up to rub at the back of your neck. How fucking dumb were you? How could you forget a pair of clothes when you knew you were going to go swimming? 

Anxiety and frustration rose in your body. You were never this forgetful, what made you loose focus and skip prepping your bag the night before -

“Oh right!” it hit you and you threw your hands up in exasperation. “Fucking Kris pissed me off so much he made me forget to pack my bag right fuck - ”

“Kris?”

Your eyes flickered to Yoongi. He was standing with his head cocked, eyes still dark and dangerous, but now his hand tightening on the strap of your bag.

“Y-Yeah,” you replied, shifting from one foot the other, hand slowly drifting down from your neck. “My roommate. I got into a fight with him tonight - ”

“About?” Suddenly Yoongi was taking steps forward and reflexively you stumbled back for every step he took, eyes wide and going up to his, seeing the way his eyebrows were furrowed.

“How does that even matter?” You raised an eyebrow, acutely aware of the cold air pricking at your bare legs and raising goosebumps to the flesh, feeling the cold brush of the wall behind your back. “He’s just a roommate, Yoongi.”

“Fuck do you know what you do to me?” Yoongi whispered, bringing his hand up to tuck a loose hair behind your ear. His eyes flicked to yours and he inhaled, leaning closer till your noses brushed. “You have no fucking clue about how much you affect me.”

The air around you two seemed to increase a few degrees, the limited space decreasing between your chests and you found yourself growing light headed the closer Yoongi neared. Something was bubbling inside of you, had been simmering since he kissed you, but now you needed more, needed to touch him, to feel him.

“You don’t have a clue either,” you whispered back, lashes brushing against your skin as your gaze flickered from his lips to his eyes. When he held a questioning gaze, you carried on, “About how much you affect me as well. Whenever I see you at the entrance you make me feel so light and relaxed and when you kissed me I think I lost it but you pulled away and I don’t know if I’m reading the signs wrong because please tell me if I’m reading it wrong - ”

Hands buried themselves into your hair and yanked you against Yoongi’s harsh lips, pushing you up and into him. Without hesitancy you kissed him back, arms slipping around his neck, his soft, pink lips pressing roughly against yours, making you moan out in pleasure.

Yoongi was pushing you back against the wall, lips never leaving yours, head tilting as he gave you mini kisses before letting his tongue come out to lick at your lips. The weak groan you let out made him smirk, the hands in your hair rubbing soothly against your scalp before he fisted a handful, yanking you back  to look him in the eyes.

“Oh sweetie,” he murmured, nose gently rubbing yours as he breathlessly smiled.  “I’ll make it pretty clear soon enough.”

[our-jem-cardale-blog]

WAKE UP

I’m sure that we all heard of gender equality, right?

I’m a total feminist, okay? It’s just, sometimes, I feel really embarrassed to call myself that because of the other feminists out there.

I know that there are more vile men out there than women and that women are targeted more than men. I’m not here to talk about that, I’m going to talk about some things that aren’t really spoken about.

I’m going to tell you all some stories.

My brother, when he was in Year 1 - roughly 5-6 years olds are in that year - and as innocent as a child could be, had a sexist and racist teacher. So she was awful to the boys of colour. Which meant that my brother was one of her victims.

She segregated the class so that the girls would be separated from the boys to ‘protect’ them. I’d like to say that they were very impressionable back then so what the teacher did to them actually stuck with them - even today. The teacher, who we shall call Alex, would make sure that in exams, the boys would get lower marks and the girls would get higher marks. This made the girls feel superior to the boys and the boys feel inferior - and no, the boy’s didn’t try and get any sort of revenge, they just played amongst themselves since the girls made it clear they didn’t want any boys with them.

It was near the end of the year that an actual incident occurred.

I was playing with some of my friends when one of my brother’s friends came and tugged at my trousers to get my attention. My year loves my siblings so when they saw the friend, they stopped the game and we all listened to what he had to say.

“Jem, your brother is crying and asking for you and your other sister. You should really come with me.”

I didn’t hesitate to walk with him and my friends followed because they’re really sweet. I asked the kid what had happened.

We’ll call my brother Percy since he likes Percy Jackson.

“So, Percy was eating his lunch and he had a Kit-Kat, right? A girl from a Year 2 class asked for it and he was going to give her the rest but Alex came up and started yelling at him for making her uncomfortable and started to call him names. I don’t know if she’s still there ‘cuz I came to look for you.”

We rounded the corner to see all my brother’s friends - all boys since that's what Alex made her class out to be like - and my sister attempting to comfort him. She’s not very good with the comfort thing so she just kept saying jokes that didn’t work very well because he was balling his eyes out.

I sat with him and he confirmed everything his friend had told me.

I’m a very passionate person when it comes to things like this and I was about to go to the teacher and rip her a new one - I knew some very colourful words for a Year 6 child - but my sister reminded me that I was going to get kicked out if I did so I just did the next best thing. So I made a letter and printed it out and gave it to the headteacher - she was very accessible since the school was small - and she was honestly not surprised since me and my siblings always manage to find some kind of trouble.

Alex, of course, got fired.

However, the shit she taught the kids stuck with them. The boys and girls refuse to go near each other for several reasons, the girls are upset that they aren’t getting high marks, the boys are shook at the decent marks they were getting, and there’s a lot of tension in that class. I remember just the other day, Percy came home and said that the girls didn’t let the boys near the water fountain for the first half of lunch during a heatwave - the teachers managed to diffuse the situation.

That was all the result of a very extreme feminist.

This next story is something my friend told me the other month.

She goes to the gym three times a week to run on the treadmill. For the past few weeks, a young man had joined the gym and was lifting weights. Some of the women who frequent the place would actually scatter when they saw him nearby. Thing to note - he was very ‘buff’ looking and this is apparently important to the story.

My friend finally got fed up with how they were treating him, and being the social butterfly that she was, went up to him during his break and struck up a conversation.

She asked him what he was in the gym for, and he said that exercising just makes him happy. She found that funny because she was there for the same reason. They talked about Marvel for the rest of his break and when they finished, she realised she had to get going so she went to her locker to pack her stuff.

Some of the women came up to her and asked if the guy tried anything on her. He was ‘obviously’ trying to seduce her with the weights he could lift and by how ‘buff’ he was.

My friend was highly disgusted.

The last story is something that happened when my friend, that just so happens to be a boy, came to visit me.

We’re close since our parents are very good friends but with the housing expenses, we both had to live in different boroughs. So we only get to visit each other on sleepovers every other weekend. My mother told me to go pick him up so I texted him to meet me by this Primark he knows very well since we shop there often together.

I had my headphones on and was reading a book just outside the Primark. All of a sudden a hand took off my headphones and another covered my eyes - “Guess who?”

That’s a game we both liked to play on each other since we were young and I knew immediately who it was - my friend. However, before I could answer, he was torn away from me by another man who then began to yell at him for being a ‘creep’ and saying that I was clearly ‘uncomfortable’. Women started nodding along and my friend was stunned.

I yelled at them for assuming things and said that he was my friend before tearing them a new one.

Like, I’m not saying that all feminists are like that. Our only goal is to make women equal to men. Not to make every other gender feel like shit. I know there are reasons why they behave like this - they had their own experiences or heard some horror stories - but honestly -

Let me explain.

If men were found bad on generalising all women, is it right for all of us to generalise all men?

There are obvious shits out there but is it right to just assume a man wants your number just because he wants to go to a gym? To share a Kit-Kat? To greet a friend?

I know we give men shit for saying ‘not all men’ but I know women thought the same thing whenever men gave them shit. And it’s not just women and men that get shit - trans, nb, fluids! They get shit for that, too.

Honestly, if we all just stopped snarking at every gender that comes in front of us, the equality that my generation are hoping for won’t ever happen.

Feminists are meant to make equals, not whatever these extremists are doing.

However, if you do find one vile person out there - snark them into the next universe. Do whatever you need to get away or to get them away.

I’m not shaming feminists, I’m just shaming the ones that take things to far. I’m not praising all men, I’m just saying there are a few good ones out there. I’m not even trying to persuade you to do anything, I’m just letting you all know.

[yougottalovebuckybarnes]

This is Me (Bucky x Reader)

A/N: Another “Greatest Showman” song inspired imagine. :) This song should’ve totally won at the Academy awards in 2018 for Original Song (just saying ;))  Enjoy!

---

I am not a stranger to the dark

Hide away, they say

'Cause we don't want your broken parts

After losing my legs in the horrific car accident six months ago, which ultimately resulted in Steve benching me from the Avengers , I knew that things would never be the same. 

Sure, I was welcome to stay in the Tower but I was only allowed to participate in the developing and technical preparations for the missions. In other words... my position had been downgraded.

For awhile, it seemed that everyone’s eyes were on me whenever I walked down the street with the assistance of either someone’s arm or a pair of crutches. 

At first, I wore my favorite pairs of shorts, finding it easier to put on in the mornings. But as the looks continued to grow, I forced myself to wear jeans and pants every day. It would be easier to hide them away then have to explain everything to everyone who questioned my prosthetic legs. 

And so that’s how I lived, hiding my imperfections from the rest of the world... at least, until I met him. 

I've learned to be ashamed of all my scars

Run away, they say

No one'll love you as you are

At first sight, my eyes immediately focused in on his left arm. His gaze focused on mine set on his limb, and he immediately pulled it out of view, hiding it behind his back. 

A pang of familiarity hit me as I watched his eyes cloud with an emotion that I could only determine as shame. I wasn’t the only one... 

Weeks passed by, and our interactions hadn’t developed past surface level conversations. Bucky trained and soon was welcomed to join the team with Steve... in my position. 

My heart broke even further than it had before as I listened to Steve tell him the news at the dinner table one evening. As my eyes swam with tears, I picked at my food for a few moments before mumbling something about not feeling well and walking to my room, slamming the door shut behind me. All the way... I felt a pair of eyes on my back, but I did not turn around once. 

After a night of sleep, I decided that the only way I could possibly be reinstated on the field team and be viewed as normal again... was to get back in shape. I had been to the gym only once since the accident, and I had been stopped half way through by Steve, who insisted that it was way too early for me to be back. 

I decided to wake up early, about 5 in the morning, and go to the gym then. Since I’d be alone, I wore a pair of shorts exposing my prosthetic legs and sports bra before walking down to the elevator and going to the floor where the gym was located. 

I flicked on the lights before looking around at all of the equipment in the room. 

I had no idea where to even start. 

Eventually, I decided to begin on the treadmill. After plugging in my head phones, I started the machine at a slow walking pace before speeding up gradually. After ten minutes, I decided to start to jog slowly.  But as I began to speed up, I felt something lock in one of my legs. 

“Fuck.” I cursed as I reached down to fix it.  In a matter of seconds, my legs wiped out from underneath of me and I slammed hard onto the treadmill before finally landing on the hard cold ground a few feet away, my ear buds ripped from my ears.  For a moment, I just lay there with my eyes closed before the tears pooling underneath my eyelids started to fall. 

“Y/N?!” Bucky’s familiar voice called out, and my hands moved up to my face to cover my tears, but they would not stop coming. Two strong hands touched my shoulders gently, and I flinched softly as he lifted me up to a sitting position before pulling my hands away to look up at him. Concern was etched across his face. “Are you okay, doll?” 

“It has been six fucking months since I lost my legs...” I chuckled humorlessly as I wiped away my tears. “And you are one of the only people to ask me that.” 

I watched his eyes trail down to my legs but there was no disgust or morbid curiosity in his eyes. It surprised me.  

“Everyone always told me that I’d be okay, not asking if I was.” I looked away from his beautiful blue eyes. “They told me that my life would be just as good as it was before, just without two limbs that I’ve relied on for my entire life.  But I’ve  been kicked off of the only goddamn team that I’ve ever cared about, and put on fucking office duty because ‘I’m not strong enough’!” 

My hands clenched into fists as I finally looked at him. He remained silent, only watching me with soft eyes.

“And then Steve offered you my spot on the team.” My voice became soft. “I was replaced... and there was nothing I could do about it. You lost your arm, but you still have two legs. And, your arm made you strong. I thought the only way to get back on the team was to do this...”

“You know that losing your legs didn’t lessen your value, right?” His voice was gentle, and his left hand touched mine. “It took me so long after my time with HYDRA to forgive myself for what I had done, for what HYDRA made me do with my new arm. And Steve... well, he’s Steve.” 

A small grin played at the corners of my lips, as he squeezed my hand softly. 

“Steve only wants to keep you safe, and he’s also a dumbass, keeping someone like you on the sidelines.”

“I’ll never be enough... not without my legs.”

“Now that is some real bullshit.” His voice hardened slightly, and my eyes widened slightly. “I’m sorry, but it is. If you train hard enough, you’ll be back on the team in no time. But even if you don’t... you are still perfect.”

“How can I train if all I do is fall off treadmills?” I rolled my eyes. 

“You get a training partner.” Bucky smiled before standing up and offering me a hand. “And if you let me... I’ll gladly be yours.” 

I took his hand, and let him pull me up to my feet. “Sounds good to me... partner.”

--

But I won't let them break me down to dust

I know that there's a place for us

For we are glorious

After that night, we began to train. 

Whenever Bucky wasn’t on a mission, we were either making plans to train or were actually training. And somehow, we did so without Steve noticing. 

Six months later, after a particularly grueling sparing session with Bucky, he decided it was time to talk to Steve .

“You’re ready.”  He smiled, and nudged my shoulder humorlessly as we walked out of the gym. “I know you are.” 

“But what if I mess up?” I sigh. “What if-”

“Y/N? Bucky?” We turn to see Steve standing in the hall way. His eye brows furrowed as he took us both in, dressed in exercise clothing and semi-soaked in sweat. “What’s going on?”

“Training.” I said simply.  “For?”

I flinched slightly at his response, but before I could respond, Bucky began to speak. 

“To let her back on the team.” He stepped forward closer to Steve. “We’ve been training for six months, and I think she’s ready.”

“But her legs...” Steve trailed off. 

“So what?” Bucky’s voice was not amused and I quickly stepped forward and touched his forearm gently. 

“Bucky, it’s okay.”

“No. It’s not.” He glared at Steve. “If I lost one arm and can still be on this team, why can’t Y/N? What’s so different with her?��� 

“I...” Steve’s blue eyes focused on me for a moment, and he sighed softly. “I’m just worried that you’ll get hurt.” 

“You gotta have a little more faith in me than that, Steve.” I smiled. “Besides, I lost my legs in a freak accident, not on a mission.”

“That’s true...”

“Just give me a chance...” I pleaded. “I promise I won’t mess this up. “

Steve hesitated for a moment, before nodding. “Okay. I’ll give you this next mission as a practice run. If it goes well... you’re back on the team.”  He nodded at Bucky before turning and walking away. 

I turned to Bucky a moment before his arms wrapped around my waist and he spun me around in a circle. I squealed before he put me down. 

“We did it!” I laughed as I looked up at him, my arms wrapped around his neck .

“No, doll, you did it.” Bucky chuckled, his eyes focused on me. “It was all you.”

“Thank you... for everything.”

“It was my pleasure.” His eyes flickered to my lips, and my heart skipped a beat. “Can I... kiss you?”

“Go ahead, soldier.” I giggle before his lips brushed against mine, in the middle of the hall way outside of the room where he found me broken and destroyed only months earlier. Oh, how time can change a person. 

---

When the sharpest words wanna cut me down

I'm gonna send a flood, gonna drown them out

I am brave, I am bruised

I am who I'm meant to be, this is me

[jonesrooy-shanghai]

Here’s Some Graduation Advice I Would Have Liked to Receive

It’s graduation time! I spent this morning reading excerpts in the New York Times of commencement speech quotes, and was struck by how mostly useless they were. They come from a good place -- work hard, trust yourself, ask what the world needs. But they’re contradictory (“show up even if you don’t feel like it” and “only do what matters to you”), vague (“be the change”), and imprecise (“work hard, but not too hard”).

As someone who is constantly looking for the final, perfect pearl of wisdom that will once and for all solve my entire life (this one is saved as a PDF to my desktop, this is obviously the best one ever, and “the dots connect themselves” is something I say to myself at least daily), I found these lackluster. 

I also recently got to see some of my former NYU Shanghai students, and as they approach their graduation (and one decided to leave college), I felt like I wanted to tell them something. Here it is.

1. Oh my goodness, it’s hard out there. For all the stresses of college (and they are real), they are still pretend compared to the rest of the world. I didn’t know this while I was a professor, because it’s like being a professional student. Life gets weird when you don’t have a semester to measure time by, or an expected wrap-up of all obligations every December and May, or a bunch of people telling you that what you’re doing matters. Instead, life is like a long treadmill that’s hard and tedious and it’s up to you to make it interesting. Be careful you don’t end up a zombie.

2. No one will tell you what to do or who to be. For a long time, I wished my parents would tell me what to do when I grew up. Then I looked to my college professors. Then I looked to my grad school advisors. Then I looked to my deans and provosts. Then I left academia, only to start looking to the people around me. They’re wearing suits, they’re going to jobs -- I should do that, I guess. And what has a life of being a chameleon taught me? It’s exhausting to pretend. I don’t know where you find the answer of who you are, but I know it’s not from someone else. Stop wasting your time looking for it.

3. If it feels wrong, it probably is. Since leaving academia, I’ve had a number of job opportunities (no big deal). As I decided on whether to take each one, I could always tell if it was the right one based on whether or not I could sleep in the days leading up to deciding. If I couldn’t, it wasn’t the right job. That said, I didn’t always listen to myself, and often took the job anyway. Here's where I’m going to be sort of contradictory -- you need to make money, but know what you’re doing and what you’re sacrificing when you are. Your inner voice is there, but it’s not always easy to listen to.

4. Don’t be afraid to ask for or receive help. I’ve suffered from mental illness since I got involved in the dark art of anorexia when I was 11. I’ve since continued to battle that, plus depression and anxiety. I thought muscling through was the only respectable path until I decided to give in to ten years of therapists’ recommendations to try medication last year. By heavens, it made me feel better. I don’t know if I’ll stay on it forever (insert very complicated debate about that here), but knowing there’s some relief to my pain will be something that will always help me. If you’re hurting, there’s relief, and it’s brave to accept it.

5. When in doubt, move around. One of the best things about my job at Cirque le Soir was it forced me to dance every single time I was at work. It really does just make you feel better. I can’t bring myself to run or go to a gym (insert above fears about treadmills but in a literal sense here), but I can bring myself to walk briskly to overpay for coffee and/or do handstands for no reason. Be alive. It’ll cheer you up, and moving is part of the fun of being human. It’s dangerously easy to forget that.

6. Go to a comedy show. I perform comedy in New York most nights. Over many of those nights I’ve been at home before the shows and complained to my boyfriend that I didn’t feel like going. He would always tell me to go, and that I would feel better if I did. He’s right -- I feel better every time. Find your version of a comedy show -- something you can go to that reminds you that you like being alive and people care about you. Or, if you can’t find such a thing just yet, you’re always invited to come to my comedy show, at the Lantern Comedy Club, every night at 8 and 10 pm. Or go to any comedy show whatsoever, because comedy is important. It’s our only weapon against death (well, that and CRISPR).

7. Trusting your instinct is easier said than done. Heaven almighty, I’ve tried to tell myself not to be influenced by others and to trust myself and to do what feels right -- but most of the time I still feel like I’m just sitting here and my compass is spinning idly. I remain convinced we all have an inner voice that knows what we really want to do, and that it’s not actually selfish, but in fact noble, to follow it, but that doesn’t mean I don’t spend most days debating pretty much every choice from where to get coffee to whether to quit my job (again). On second thought, maybe I shouldn’t be giving advice.

8. There’s going to be a fuck ton of pressure on you to be normal or do the thing that sounds good and reasonable. Are you noticing a theme here? The problem is, I think we’re all born with a sense of self and purpose. But social and economic forces around us are strong, and pressures from people we know, even people we love and who love us, are fierce, and it’s hard to be a unique snowflake in a bunch of packed snow on the highway covered with tire treads. My point is, jet lag is real and this isn’t making a lot of sense, but whenever you make a decision, try asking yourself if it’s what you want or if you have just been told, however indirectly, it’s what you should want. All of this is coming from a place of privilege, I know, but rather than apologize for it, let’s try to be an example of really living.

9. Seriously, though, make sure you have enough money to live on. I’m able to sit here and talk about introspection and trusting instincts because I worked hard to save a lot of money before I quit my job as a professor. I wouldn’t be able to survive right now if I hadn’t. I’ve also seen too many of my artist (sadly, it is usually artists) friends run out of money, and, thus, options. There’s no shame in making a living, or wanting to be comfortable. It took me awhile to realize that. You’ll have to sacrifice and be smart in order to live a life based on your true self. You know?

10. Eat vegetables. And blueberries. And good fats (coconuts! nuts!). Be vegan if you can, but if you can’t, eat meat that wasn’t made horribly. I don’t really know what I’m talking about, and I’m no nutritionist, and I can’t speak to the detrimental environmental consequences of us all eating all the almonds in the world at once, but I do know I feel better when I take care of myself. Take care of yourself out there. (And if you can’t, email me, and I’ll try to help.)

11. Remember, this advice is coming from this person. (Amazing makeup by Kathryn Robbins.)

P.S. I literally got distracted while writing this list by this one. I think I have an addiction. (Also, it contradicts the advice from the other passion article above.)

[ishameeveryone]

My weight loss journey

I have always been skinny, never bony or scrawny, just skinny. Very few kids have called me fat and sometimes I would get teased for being “skinny” and I hated it because it made me feel like a starving child in Africa. I thought I had high metabolism because I remember eating sweets or eating lot of food at buffets and then I gained the weight in 6th grade and thought my metabolism has slowed. But I was using fatlogic. I realize now I did not eat that much as a kid and I had a mother who was a stay at home mom so she always knew what her kids were up to and wouldn’t let us eat whenever we wanted and would tell us to have an apple or an orange. We just wanted sweets or junk food like ice cream or fruit snacks or chips or mini cakes. She also wouldn’t let us eat right before supper or lunch and if we had just eaten. She would try and help us find something to do, she did not want to teach us unhealthy eating habits and have us eat when we are bored. Then I started to gain weight in 6th grade because I was home from school due to a mental breakdown so I didn’t go for a while and my mom had a job as a teacher assistant with special ed students so she was not around when I was eating food because I was always hungry. The medicine I was one for seizures made me hungry so I always ate and I put on 20 lbs in one month and got these ugly stretch marks. I wasn’t fat but I was no longer skinny but I still had lower skinny legs because all my weight goes to my butt and thighs first. I also had a sweet tooth so I ate all the snacks I liked because I loved the taste of them.  

I got up to 172 lbs by 7th grade and I still didn’t look fat but I was in the obese range for a child. I was tall and only 5 ‘5’ and a half. But I was the one who thought I was fat and called myself as such, no one ever shamed me or put me down for my body, I guess I still had thin privileges.  

But I have realized something I only gained weight because I ate more food and had more sugar than I had before because my mom was not around to stop me and my dad didn’t pay attention. I knew nothing about calories and because I had never gained weight before from food, I didn’t think of it. I didn't know any better because I was only 12. I didn't even know I had gained weight and by the time I realized, I was no longer skinny, I was fat. Plus I was less active than I was before so another reason why I put on weight.  

Then in 7th grade my mom told me to quit eating lot of fruit snacks and sweets if I want to be skinny when I was bitching about my size. So I took her advice and I stopped eating lot of fruit snacks and other sweets for the taste and I started to go for 20 minute walks in the field and I started having salads for lunch and eating one roll instead of two for lunch and only having one plate and no seconds and no snacks. I lost the weight and got down to 150 lbs. I never went back up to 170 again. I did go up to 153 when I was 15 but only three pounds and then I started doing PE and I thought that meant I could eat more food so I had sugar again and I got up to 160 and past it and at 163 I decided to cut back on eating sweets again so I did and my weight went back down to 153.  

Then one weekend we went skiing and there was no food around because my parents only bought food that would be enough to feed us for one meal and they would shop every time we need to eat for dinner or breakfast. I had lost 5 pounds over the weekend due to lack of food so I decided to keep this up and cut back on food. I only had one thing for breakfast and for lunch I would clean my tray but give one of my rolls to a girl from my resource room. When I would have dinner, I only had one plate and no eating in between and I was in PE and did weight lifting and I was also doing softball so I bet that made me lose weight too and I got down to 128.

Then I got back up to 140 the following year because I was actually eating more food again and my mom told me it was muscle. I believed that excuse only to find out at 17 it was a lie and I did gain weight, not muscle because my prom dress wouldn't fit. I decided I would never let myself gain weight again so at age 18 I started to walk on the treadmill for an hour a day, half hour in the morning and half hour in the evening and I started to drop some weight again and that wasn't my intent. I was trying to tone my body. I got down to 133 and 130 and I stayed in the 130's range. I only got back up to 140 when I was pregnant and was back to my high school weight by the end of my pregnancy. Then after I had my baby, it got me down to 120 while breastfeeding and when my son started eating solids, I started to slowly put on some weight and I was 126 when I got pregnant with my daughter and I got up to around 160 when I had her and then I dropped down to the same weight. I couldn't eat as much as before because my metabolism wasn't as high as last time with my son when I was breast feeding him.  

Then after I was done breast feeding, I was slowly putting on weight but that was because I would eat sweets every time they were available because I have a sweet tooth and when I got up to 134, I decided to work out and cut back on sweets and have smaller portions before I end up with an eating disorder again. I have had one in the past and it went away when I got pregnant with my son. So my weight slowly dropped again and I got back down to 120 and the lowest I have seen was 117 but I don't want to go too low or I will look anorexic.  

I must be in the 10% who has not gained all their weight back because I never hit my old weight again from high school other than when I was pregnant.  

[ohthehypocrisy]

In a Moment

Drabble idea by @atfubblegum. If you have a fubblegum drabble idea, I’d love to hear it.

“What would you define a ‘moment of weakness’ as, Finn?”

That question had caught him off guard.

Here he was, staring at a simulated sunset that seemed ageless, sitting next to one of his best friends, when she suddenly asked him a strange question. He turned to her, her focus still on the virtual sun, expecting clarification but receiving none as she sat silently.

“What do you mean by that?” he asked.

She tilted her head upward in thought, “Well, it’s not exactly a well defined concept, but I...”

She turns to face him, her posture leaning back and the virtual sun illuminating half of her face.

“I’d like to know what you think it means,” she says to him, “You are a hero, my knight, my champion, so what does it mean to you?”

Finn and Princess Bubblegum had spent the past half hour or so simply enjoying each other’s company, touring through the Candy Kingdom castle halls, indulging themselves in the secret gardens and labs and resident pet giant cat named Timmy. It was all fun and games until it came upon them the introspection and reflection of their lives and, consequently, their friendship.

Princess Bubblegum had gone through some major changes in the past month, the weight of which was greater than the past hundred years she had been alive for. Her confrontation with Flame Princess had forced her to reexamine her methods and her trust issues, finally coming to face the centuries of paranoia and tyranny she had installed in her brain for the sake of protecting her people. She had always told herself it was worth it, a means to an end, but after eight hundred years of self sacrifice, she wasn’t so sure anymore.

But it hardly compared to the tribulations Finn was going through. He could’ve talked about anything, from breaking up with Flame Princess, the death of Billy, losing an arm, his crippling depression, but he chose to offload his father issues to her. She wasn’t fond of the idea of Finn accepting his father’s denial of his role as a parent, but Timmy the cat had quashed any potential conversation on that subject.

All had slowed to a gentle stillness now. Timmy had retired to his undersized cat bed, they were exhausted from walking around so much, and they had returned to the secret virtual reality room to unwind.

Finn was on his back, staring at the candy stone ceiling, mulling over her question, trying to find an answer that would satisfy her, as well as himself.

“A moment of weakness is...” he started, but trailed off as his words failed him, “I dunno, doing something bad?”

The princess hummed, “It’s not like surrendering yourself to the intrusive suggestions you lock away in your thoughts and immorally acting despite yourself?”

Finn tilted his head, “Huh?”

She turned to lock eyes with him, “Giving in to evil.”

“Oh,” he looked away back to the ceiling, “No, I wouldn’t know what that’s like.”

He heard the princess huff, “No, you do.”

He straightened himself up and leaned up slightly off of the treadmill they were sitting on, “Wait, what do you mean?”

Princess Bubblegum leaned forward as a futile means of distancing herself from Finn, “Remember how you and Flame Princess broke up?”

Finn reflexively looked away, “Uh, yeah.”

“That was your moment of weakness,” she explained, Finn looking back to her, the princess staring into the virtual sun, “You defied common sense and tricked two people into fighting each other for your own amusement.”

He leaned back onto the floor, unable to look at the princess as she recounted his shameful memory.

“That’s not just wrong, Finn,” she looks over to him, seeing him more focused on the ceiling than listening to her. It was the expected response, she knew, “It was evil.”

“I said I was sorry,” he muttered just loud enough to be heard, a hint of defiance in his tone.

“And I understand that,” she said, placing an assuring hand on his knee, “And I’m not saying that makes you evil, it was a moment of weakness for you.”

Finn patted his stomach and wiggled his feet, as if he was physically processing her words. He tightened his lips and flexed his cheeks, unsure of how he was supposed to respond.

“Well, how about,” he leans up slightly to look at her, “What was your moment of weakness?”

She sighs in frustration, the feeling of which was aimed not at him but herself, “You can’t even begin to fathom how many of those I have had.”

There was a pause, a moment of processing the magnitude of the many years she had been alive for and the countless things she had done for her kingdom, before Finn responded, “How about something recent?”

She leaned back, supporting herself with her skinny arms, head craned in thought, “How about...” she started, looking above the setting virtual sun, “That time Ice King infected the Candy Kingdom with his freezer burn, and I had you and Jake take him hostage?”

It was years ago, but Finn remembered it clearly, particularly because it was the first instance of many that he realized the princess was capable of doing wrong, in contrast to the perfect image she and his mind had painted her in.

“Yeah, you wanted us to beat up an innocent old man,” he simplified, resting his head back on the floor, “Yeah, I get’cha. ‘Cuz, like, it didn’t matter if he got hurt, as long as your peeps were okay, right?”

“But it was still wrong and you knew it,” Bubblegum had taken to leaning and laying down beside him, staring at the ceiling as well, “It didn’t matter if he deserved it, or if he even knew what he did. It was below me to treat him as such, but I thought saving my people justified the means.”

Finn patted his chest to quell the distraction of the ensuing silence, remembering how he had told the princess of her wrongdoing, even after seeing for himself the horrifying disease the Ice King had unleashed onto her people. It was pitiful and deplorable but, most importantly, it could be cured, and the princess was prepared to extract it through any means necessary.

But even he had to put his foot down, unable to bring himself to mistreat the Ice King so, and he made sure she knew all about it. It surprised him, however, that she knew what she was doing was wrong, that she would be reviled for it afterwards, and if it weren’t for Finn, who knows where that path would’ve led her to?

“You’ve changed a lot since then,” Finn brought himself to comment.

He felt her hand on his shoulder, “So have you.”

Finn chuckled a bit forcefully despite himself, looking over to see the princess’s soft, understanding face.

“So, I guess,” he fiddled with his words as Bubblegum retracted her hand, “A moment of weakness would be, like, being too weak to stop yourself from doing something bad.”

“That’s a flawed definition, contextually speaking,” she brought up, turning to face the ceiling again, “Because, like, what if I eat one cupcake too many, even though I’m on a diet?”

“Wouldn’t that still be bad?” Finn asked, looking back up, “I mean, not following your diet is bad for you.”

She giggled, “Okay, that was a dumb example, but you know what I mean,” she leaned up until she was on her side, arm propping up her head as she faced him, “A moment of weakness by definition isn’t exclusive to morality.”

“Not even a little?” he speaks up, leaning slightly to face her, “I mean, if you do the opposite of the right thing, and you can’t stop yourself, isn’t that rooted in moral basis leaning on the bad side of the scale?”

The princess smiled. She couldn’t help but find his poor string of words endearing and admired the fact that he was trying to make sense with them.

“Okay, you have a point,” she turned to lay on her back again, “The magnitude of morality widens the further down the spectrum you go, and the same goes for succumbing to moments of weakness, I suppose.”

“That should be true of the opposite, right?”

“Huh?” she turned to face him, watching him lean upwards until he was sitting straight. 

“You know, the opposite of a moment of weakness?” he asked with a gesture of a hand.

“Like...a moment of strength?” she asked, slowly lifting herself up.

“Yeah. What is a moment of strength?” he asked, looking at his two hands as if they were the plates of a scale, “Is it just being strong for a moment, or something deeper?”

Princess Bubblegum had righted herself and had taken to mulling over the philosophy of the principal of morality.

“If the opposite of a moment of weakness follows a polarized definition word for word,” she said, almost muttering to herself, “Then yeah, a moment of strength is the acting of the best interest despite yourself.”

“Like fighting a strong monster trying to save some peeps,” Finn pointed out, feeling brief pride at his professional definition, “Even though it might be too strong for you.”

“Or shutting down your entire security system,” she said nonchalantly, looking back up to the virtual sunset they had been neglecting.

“Yeah, something like that,” Finn tapped his fingers on his knees, finding the courage to say to her, “Why d’you ask?”

“Huh?” she had been snapped out of her train of thought as she looked to Finn.

“Why’d you get all metaphorical on me, Peebs?” he had taken to subconsciously patting his legs with his hands, “I mean, philosophylis, I mean, soul searchy?”

Princess Bubblegum couldn’t help but giggle, brushing aside her hair over her shoulder, “Well, I thought about having a moment of weakness right now.”

“Say what now?” he looked to her, finding that she had scooted a bit too close.

“You know, acting despite myself in this very moment,” she briefly looked away, “But, I suppose if I’m aware of it, would choosing to act on it be a moment of strength instead?”

Finn had two whole years to get over this feeling. He had quashed it time and time again whenever he looked at her, thought about her, cementing the respect he had for her as a close friend. And yet, something in him decided that she would look so enchanting if there was a strong breeze to swat at her hair as the virtual sun was setting.

Finn had fought himself from acting on the suggestions intruding on his mind, a moment of weakness.

But in a moment of strength, he disregarded those childish notions and acted on his own.

“It depends...” he said calmly, quietly as he inched a little closer, “Is it a good thought or a bad thought?”

Bubblegum turned to face him, surprised but pleased that he was so close to her now.

“I don’t know...but I wanna find out,” she said, staring into his eyes as her own widened.

Their hands moved into each other as they closed in.

Finn and Bubblegum were surprised to come back to the slumber party with half of the invited guests having been chucked into a pit of bath water that was definitely NOT there before they left. The candy people were rescued, their bodies dried off, and order was restored before everyone had to be tucked in for the night.

“You guys were gone for a while,” Jake said to Finn as they unfurled their sleeping bags, “What were you two doing?”

“We were just hangin’ out, man,” Finn answered, climbing into his bag.

“You didn’t do anything, did’ya?” Jake said skeptically, his face baring an expression of wile.

“Nah, man. We just had a moment, that’s it,” he zipped up his bag.

“What kind of moment? You can tell me, bro,” the dog nudged him with his long arms.

Finn giggled, then said with a happy breath, “A moment of strength.”

[yeolliebyunpark]

Gone Swimming- Part 1

Genre: Romance / Fluff

Characters: Baekhyun X You 

Warning: Rated M for 18+ for language 

Description: You and Baekhyun just got a new pool installed in your backyard and you can’t wait to go swimming in it together! 

A/N: I plan on writing a part two for this. This is the first fanfic I’ve ever completely written so I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! This story is inspired by my new pool.

You changed into your favorite royal blue bikini with hot pink Hawaiian flowers. Once you were ready, you were waiting for Baekhyun outside of the bathroom he was changing in. “Are you almost ready?” You had just had a pool installed in your backyard and had been waiting for a good six weeks before it had actually been ready. All you wanted was to get some relaxation time in before spring break ended and had to go back to work. “The pool is waiting for us!”

He opened the door of the bathroom and was quick to make eye contact with you. “I’m ready to go sweetie!” He came out with black swimming shorts and, lucky for you, a shirt with a little blue shark in the corner to go with it so you didn’t have to see his defined abdomen that was always so distracting to you.

You found yourself staring at his abdomen when you heard his deep voice speaking again. “Sorry, what did you say?” you asked as you lifted your eyes to make contact with him. 

“You look so pretty in your swimsuit,” he said with a goofy smile that made your cheeks burn a light pink. You tried to hide your smile with your hand when you felt a quick pinch at your cheeks. The sudden realization of his hand movement had too slow of a response since you couldn’t say his name quick enough in that whiny voice of yours that would’ve exposed your flash of embarrassment. “You’re just too adorable!” 

You tried to fight the butterflies in your stomach while feigning confidence in your voice in an attempt to seem unaffected by his sweet compliments. “Stop it Baekhyun!” But it came out sounding all cutesy. 

Damn it! And I tried so hard! 

After the rush of dizziness from his words passed you by, you suddenly remembered the pool you had been wanting to jump into after successfully breaking eye contact with him. “Let’s go get into the pool now!” You started walking toward the back door and noticed that he was following directly behind you. After opening the door, you rushed outside and jumped into the pool since your desire to beat him there was much stronger than anything else right now. Once you hit the surface of the water, you regretted not preparing yourself beforehand for the cold temperature that it was. A light bulb hit you at the realization that the new pool would take another week to warm up to its standardized temperature, or at least that’s what the landscaper had told you the other day. After being completely engulfed in what felt like near-freezing water, you bobbed your head straight above the surface and rubbed the wetness out of your eyes. You failed to find Baekhyun in the pool when searching for him through your blurry vision so you called out his name. 

“I’m right here!” You turned your body a full 100 degrees to find him after hearing his voice from a short distance behind you. 

“Why aren’t you in the pool… yet?” It took a few extra seconds than normal to finish your question because you soon took notice to his lack of a shirt. And you were stunned by the sharp details of his strong upper body. And you couldn’t speak anymore from the sudden surprise of his half-nakedness. 

Oh dear Lordie! That boy! 

All those times he went to the gym to work out, walking on the treadmill and weightlifting, and all those times he spent dancing for exercise. They were all for his physical health…and to take your breath away every single time he revealed any skin beneath his clothing in your presence. Thank you, Baek! 

My focus was suddenly broken when he waved his arm to get my attention. Obviously I spent too much time thinking about and staring at him whenever I could. Then I realized he was walking toward the deepest part of the water. “Wait Baekhyun! Don’t get in, it’s too cold in here!” You squealed out with little shakes going through your body which you could tell weren’t at all visible to him. 

He looked up at you with a smirk on his face, seemingly amused with what you had just said. “You just want to stare at me all day don’t you?” His adorable puppy dog laugh followed and the corners of your mouth turned slightly upward. You were concerned with how cocky he was getting about his fairly toned and very ripped body. 

“N-no, Baekhyun,” but my attempted stern voice didn’t stop him from doing what he wanted. So he jumped in the water. You began counting in your head to see how long it would take him to figure out the truth of your words after feeling the icy sensation of the water on his skin. 

One. Two. Three. 

His head quickly bobbed out of the water while gawking with his mouth wide open. “Oh my fuck!!” he yelled without giving any time to censor himself. “That’s so fucking cold!” 

“I told you but you never listen to me!” you exclaimed while putting him to shame. 

You couldn’t stop shaking and neither could he, but even more than you. “Will you warm me?” he asked with his puppy dog eyes while seemingly staring into your soul. 

You could hardly resist denying him but you weren’t even sure what he was expecting you to do. “What do you want me to do about it?” you asked rather boldly. 

Without any words coming from his mouth, he stared heavily into your eyes and gave you a smirk with arms wide open. He was slowly approaching you, but you weren’t prepared for his flirty attempt at a close embrace. You playfully avoided him by speed walking in the opposite direction as him to keep from seeming affected by his sly words. The result of your actions was a shivering yet handsome and half-naked man chasing you around the pool so he could feel the warmth of your body on him. There wasn’t really a problem with what he was trying to accomplish, but sometimes you just enjoyed being stubborn, feeling wanted without wanting the other (or at least without them knowing that you do). 

You turned your head to take a glance at him and check that the distance between you two was enough to escape him. “Ow!” You hadn’t realized how close you were to the edge of the pool when you looked away so you scraped your big toe. Most of the pain came from the little bit of blood that was flowing out. You very swiftly moved your body towards the closest seating area of the pool while hopping on one foot since you were putting pressure on the part of the toe that was bleeding on your other foot. 

“Are you okay?” was the only thing you heard as Baekhyun was running towards you with worry in his eyes. 

“Everything’s fine! I just scraped my toe,” you responded to calm his anxiety. But he still became very dramatic in his reaction to the situation, like always. 

“Oh no! You have to get yourself out of the water if you’re hurting that badly!”

“Baby, I’m okay! You don’t have to worry!” But your words still didn’t seem to reach his ears because he acted oblivious to what you were saying. 

“I gotcha. No worries,” he said completely nonchalantly. Without much effort, he covered one arm around the small of your back and the other arm was placed under both your legs where the back of your knees were. He picked you up in his arms and carried you to where he could easily walk out of the pool. The flirty gaze in his eyes told you everything he was about to say. “I always get what I want in the end, don’t you know?” he asked with a small chuckle. He finally got the warm embrace that he’d been desiring since he cannonballed into the pool. But you’re not complaining. The smooth skin that wrapped around your body and the hard muscles that carried you and claimed you as his own made your heart beat much faster than it normally does. It was so comforting, you barely even remembered the pain in your toe. You nuzzled your head where his neck was and wrapped your arms around him for safety. But your eyes stopped its movements and stared directly at his neck which was covered in billions of beads of water. Seeing those droplets that perfected his swimsuit body was overwhelming and made you dizzy. You had to close your eyes from the daze but all that was left for you were thoughts, lustful thoughts. All you wanted was to lick the wetness off of his body and your resistance would be over. It was so hard to resist. 

“Baekhyun, please stop!” This wasn’t an order, but a pleading request to him. You couldn’t stand his good looks anymore. You had to do something, but you still weren’t sure exactly what you would do if and when he complied to that request. 

He stopped and stared at you with raised eyebrows and questioning eyes, wondering why you’d kept him from continuing his dramatic attempt to rescue his damsel in distress. Didn’t you like it when he treated you like a princess? 

In order to gather your thoughts of what you’d say to him in this glorious moment, you glanced past his wet neck to an empty chair that was lying close behind him. “Oh no! We forgot to bring out towels!” Your lustful thoughts got sidetracked when you suddenly recognized a problem. “We can’t go inside when we’re dripping wet!” 

He looked at you with a blank face and the moment became silent as you both sat in thought. 

“Oh wait,” you exclaimed when a light bulb suddenly flashed in your mind. You had an idea that you wished had hit you sooner. You could finally put your lustful desires to use. 

“I have an idea!” and then you went straight for it. You moved your head closer to his neck without resistance. Overcome by lustfulness, you pushed out your warm tongue and slid it over the cold wetness of his neck. It tasted slightly salty but the smell of his body was even better as it brought a sudden warmth between your legs. Your heart was beating faster and you could feel the same in him as you were pressing hard against his chest. You looked up at him to see a bright pink on his flushed cheeks and you could feel your own heating up quickly. You scanned his face and took a glimpse into his eyes. His pupils were dilated, seemingly hungry for more. He didn’t want to move too quickly towards you in case he dropped you due to lack of self-control, so he remained flushed in his position. “This is to help you get dry,” you whispered near his ear, suddenly recognizing, within seconds, the goosebumps that trailed from his neck down to his restless arms. You leaned forward again while maintaining eye contact with him, playfully sticking out your tongue again in the direction of his neck. It was a test to see how much of it he could handle. 

“You know what, screw this!” he exclaimed, obviously lacking in self-control and giving in. He paced toward the door, leading you past the kitchen and into the bedroom while still carrying you in his arms. He instantly dropped you from a high point above his side of the bed and leaned in to you without a second thought. He pressed his lips against yours and you weren’t hesitant to return the kiss. Those soft lips and the hands that began running through your hair. The endless satisfaction of his sweet caresses against your cheek. It made you feel fluffy and warm inside. The pleasure continued when his mouth moved down toward your jaw, kissing your neck with the slightest touches of his tongue. That’s when you realized you were both still dripping wet from the pool. 

“Hey Baekhyun! We’re still wet, we can’t be on the bed.” After the kisses had broken, he looked at you unapologetically with an endearing smirk on his charmingly beautiful face that left you feeling dizzy. He only half-listened to your words while the other half was still in a daze from the closeness of your wet bodies. You certainly weren’t in full control of the situation because he placed a hand behind your neck and preceded to kiss the soft spot behind the lower part of your ear. Such a simple and innocent kiss yet it sent a jolting wave of pleasure and goosebumps throughout your own body. It seemed almost useless to stop his incredibly amorous touches that you loved and gave in to but they came to a halt as he lifted his head and turned around, walking into the bathroom as if he wasn’t just as affected as you were by his sweet kisses. 

“Okay so where is the medicine?” he asked without turning his head to look at you, but you fell speechless and couldn’t find the strength to reply to his words.

Thank you for reading my first story! I hope you enjoyed it! I am happy to receive feedback from my readers so I can become a better writer in the future!

[athleisure-aesthetic]

This is a long post because I went on a few rants, but there are workouts and stuff in there, I promise ;) stay tuned for commentary on vanity sizing and non-scale victories!

April 13 Thursday’s workout was super speedy. Legs and a quick stretching NTC workout. I meant to do curtsy lunges to finish it out, but I was crunched for time and my legs were already burning from the seasaw lunges and step-ups because my bench was higher than a normal one would be. I always get kind of frustrated when my NTC workout ends up being a lowkey stretching one, because I use it to replace cardio for the day. I’m starting to think I should either do more than one or just do cardio anyway. At least I got in a nice half hour walk at lunch; it was much colder than I was expecting since the rest of this week has been so nice! Still pretty out tho. And my skull shirt is badass. The end.

Went to Whole Foods with Ani when I got home to get some goodies for the weekend, and really stuck to my list (which I was proud of, bc that store is a literal TRAP) which included chocolate milk as a post-workout fuel… ASK ME HOW HYPE I AM TO START DRINKING CHOCO MILK AGAIN!!! (very. obviously.) Also started growing a mini protein bar collection because now I’m terrified of not properly fueling post-workout, so now I’m going to have very little excuse not to, since these babies are extremely portable. Just throw one in ya workout bag, and there you go. Don’t even have to remember to get it from my lunch box. I’m finally trying RXBAR and a few Quest Bar flavors (shoutout to @runningwhilenotdying for the suggestion, ty girl!) for now, in addition to the Luna Protein bars I still have. Still going to have to try a few to find out which works best for me.

Legs / butt workout 3x each 15 reps weighted glute bridges, 10# 15 reps goblet squats, 10# 20 reps step ups, alt. sides, 10# 20 reps seasaw lunges, alt. sides 15 reps weighted lying leg curls, 6# 40 s wall sits 10 reps burpee + high jump alternating leg swing stretches instead of curtsy lunges bc I’m a wimpy bitch lol

Listening to: “Under You” by Nick Jonas

April 14 Today is the day John Mayer’s full album is out, something I realized halfway through Friday morning while working from home, so I blasted the FUCK out of it in my apartment and haven’t stopped listening since. Ani took the day off, so it was just me at home designing, which is literally what I wish every work day of my life could be. Making my own schedule, eating and working out whenever I want and not having to worry about when I’m going to finish, not having to talk to people lol.

I decided to workout around 11ish and had to do arms / upper body without weights, which was a bit challenging considering my weak wrists and lack of free weights. BUT I made it, and my wrists weren’t ded afterwards, so I guess I’m building up some strength? Plus check out my schweaty knees, aren’t they purty? It was a dec workout, so hype it. HOWEVER, in the middle of my last set, this awful ringing started in my apartment, which I identified as the fire alarm after panicking for like 2 seconds. Then there was this weirdo announcement in our hallway as if we were in a damn dorm, saying to evacuate asap so I was like o fuck ok let me get my things. Ran outside with my purse and a jacket, ran into the woman who legit hates me and Ani for being loud on the weekend two whole times (fuck her tho it was a Friday and Saturday at like 11pm get your panties out of your ass amirite) and she was like idk what’s going on I’m probably not going downstairs. I was like ????? um if there’s a fire I’m not dying so bye. So I ran down 8 flights of stairs to find no one in the lobby. Sick. It was a false. Alarm. Bc they’re doing construction right in front of the elevators. Motherfuckers. So I had to go back up 8 flights of stairs once I got the approval from the doorman. Thx for the cardio break, how’d you know I needed that? 🙄 Finished my set, worked for a bit longer, then showered and decided I was done working for the day lol.

It was pay day and I was bored so I kinda went a little nuts on a shopping trip. As usual, I mostly bought athleisure, buuuuuuuuuuut there are some significant things about this shopping trip that I must share.

1: I willingly purchased two pairs of athletic shorts. I do not wear anything but leggings to workout in, because I hate the way my legs look, and I usually feel much more mobile and flexible in leggings, even if it’s like 90 degrees out and July. But I tried on two pairs of black shorts, and could actually see myself not only wearing them like to bed, but like… doing active things in them, and being ok with seeing my legs. First #NONSCALEVICTORY o the day.

2: I not only willingly tried on a one piece bathing suit, I tried on two, AND I purchased one. Every person alive knows too well the personal torture of trying on bathing suits, especially in dressing rooms that have awful fluorescent lighting that does not flatter anyone. But for some reason I was in a good mood about my bod (perhaps after the shorts win), so I grabbed two suits and said to myself, fuck it, don’t feel bad about yourself, but do not get your hopes up. This could go great, or it could not. Don’t let this be a reflection of how hard you’ve been working. It might just not fit, that’s not your fault. BUT THEY BOTH FIT REALLY DECENTLY OK. The one was like bright red and v scandalous and tbh I did not have the boobs to fill out that sucker. So despite it fitting ok, I couldn’t go with it. But the other was stripey and rouchey and pretty comfortable, so I was like welp. I need at least one suit for the summer, and can’t picture myself using any of the ones from last summer, and I don’t feel like total crap in this. So. I bought it!

3: I purchased at least one thing of every size (S, M, L, and XL), which proves that sizing is fake and literally doesn’t fucking matter. I like all my tops a little baggy and all of my bottoms tight (except those shorts I ended up getting, but who knew I would even buy shorts…). That’s just my personal preference style-wise. I went to four different stores, and ended up getting clothing that fit me, but when I was ripping the tags off when I got home, I noticed that all the sizes were different. I bought a shirt from Uniqlo (AMAZING STORE, btw, never been before today) that was a size small, which is something I haven’t done in like literally maybe 7-8 years. I also bought a cropped sweatshirt from Marshall’s in XL, even though I thought it was a large when I bought it. Either way, it’s not like my body morphed mid-shopping trip. I was the same size all day, but the stores decided I was all over the place. This just makes me a, hate the fashion industry for forcing this imaginary 00 system and ideals of size-shaming on us, but also b, feel better about myself because I know that I can’t be reliant on just being one size. I used to think of my weightloss in terms of pants sizes. Like last Friday when I was wearing actual pants, they were 12s. But like. A 12 at one store could be a 16 at another, or an 8. I used to say, oh I just want to be down to a consistent 8. That would be the perfect amount of weight to lose. If I get there, I’ll know that I’m good. But I’m really starting to see that that number and that size doesn’t exist. There is no universe in which an 8 at every store will fit the same. So judging yourself on a system that’s literally impossible to fit into is just a recipe for hurt and shame. So now I’m just gonna grab any size that looks like it’ll fit. It’s still not fun to see a higher number, but that’s going to be a mindset I have to get myself out of, and this post is proof that it doesn’t matter. I want to base my happiness with my fitness on phyiscal progress: what I can DO with my body, not just how it looks in the clothes I inevitably have to wear. But today, for a few reasons, I felt really good, and I’m proud to have seen not only one, but a few non-scale wins. Hype it the FUCK up.

Whew. That was a lot, sorry. I almost feel like a doing a ~haul~ like I’m on some fashion youtube channel, I bought so many fun things. But whatever, I doubt anyone cares about that except me lolol.

Honestly sometimes I think I just like to buy some things because I’m happy they fit me, not because I need them or are in love with them. Is that weird? I feel like I’m a pretty specific shape (very short and curvy, but not curvy everywhere), so when I find something I actually think fits me, I usually just say, yeah I’ll wear this. I definitely am spending too much money that way, but it’s nice to feel like a lot of things are fitting me well for once.

Arms / upper body workout 3x each 20 reps shoulder taps, alt. sides 10 reps pushups 20 reps walk outs + twist, alt. sides 10 reps tricep dips 50 reps arm circles forward 50 reps arm circles backward 20 reps lat pull downs + shoulder squeeze 35s, 40s, 45s plank 10 reps decline push ups 10 reps burpee + high jump + 5 jumping jacks PLUS 8 flights of stairs when my fucking fire alarm went off and the elevator didn’t work 🙃

Listening to: “Burlesque” by Christina Aguilera OR the Voices in Your Head a cappella version, both are fun

April 15 I was hella nervous for my run today; 6 miles seemed like a lot to me, and after last week’s long run on the treadmill, it had been a while since I’d done a long one outside. The last time I finished a long run outside, I felt like death. So this time I wanted to be really prepared; I read some articles and youtube videos on how to run longer without like dying, and made sure to focus on my breathing and warmup. Once I left my apartment, I didn’t start my timed run for about 10ish minutes but still ran slow to get my legs ready. Then I did some of the moves from the videos, and set off. Today I went towards the art museum and Kelly Drive for the first time, which was definitely busy for a Saturday morning, but it was kinda gray out and mid-50s which is like perfect running weather. I felt really good for like literally the whole run, and I couldn’t tell if it was the new place, good music, or what, but I was surprised at how quickly the miles came and went. I stopped at 4.56 miles to take the picture in front of the art museum, walked briskly up the hill to the building, then ran the rest of the way on the rest of the Schuykill River Trail and back towards home. I finished a little ways away from home and was inspired by a boy who seemed to be blind or albino who was running with a small leash with a girl, and continued jogging all the way home. So I really totalled something like 7.10 miles and they felt GREAT which is INSANE for me. Like that’s so many miles. And I haven’t run that far in so long, and they actually felt GOOD??? Like who am I?

I rewarded myself with a cinnamon roll protein shake, a little more shopping (I ended up getting the black Nike Tanjuns for anyone who saw my post last night lol), and Chick-Fil-A nuggets for lunch. Was considering making this day a cheat day when I saw the Chick-Fil-A, but I was good and only got the nuggets. My resolve was tested when I saw a girl with a Rita’s cup right when I got home and I wanted to be like OMG GIRL WHERE IS THERE A RITA’s AROUND HERE???!??! But clearly I held myself back.

Guess that means more Easter chocolate for me tomorrow hayyyyyy

6.02 mi 10'20" min / mi

Listening to: “Hair” by Little Mix

[shankirch-blog]

ONE.

This is the typical routine of Shan trying to get back into shape:

Spend two hours talking myself up to get to the gym. 

Walk to the treadmill and think about how much better everyone’s bodies look compared to mine.

Start the treadmill and get to a jog. 

Continue to think about how fat I must look on the treadmill.

Convince myself that I am totally out of breathe.

Remind myself that I’ve been a lazy sack of potatoes.

Eventually start walking before I reach the first mile. 

Today was different, though. Today I ran one mile without stopping. Today I made it to the gym for the first time since May 2016. I wish that I could say nothing from that routine happened today... #1-4 were certainly accurate. But then, something changed in my routine. I changed the way I thought. As I started to run, I visualized myself feeling happy and healthy like I did when I used to run half marathons. I remembered how happy I was on those 10 mile runs when I could clear my head and there was nothing that could get in the way between me and the road. Today I finished a mile without stopping and felt proud of myself. 

Do I secretly wish I hadn’t gotten so lazy that now running one mile feels like an accomplishment? Duh. Am I unhappy with the pace that I had to run the mile in order to make it? Yup. But I’m done with shaming myself.. after conversations this fall with Kevin and Court, they helped me realize that I need to stop the bullshit thinking, stop the excuses, and do something if I am not happy with the current situation (And yes, if you know Kevin and Court then you know that what I just wrote is pretty close to how they actually said it to me.). I’m also finally putting my clinical skills to work on myself... if I had a client that couldn’t get himself motivated and proceeded to have a pity party for himself, I’d use my skills to help him set realistic goals, identify steps to reach those goals and then praise the shit out of him whenever he took one of those steps. 

In summary, I ran one mile today without stopping and I’m f’in proud! 

[maurzbar]

(i got extra hella 420 deep and whipped out the good ole external harddrive and found this piece i never shared??? i think it was for a fic tbh its not properly labeled but i like it still so imma put it here in case i lose it)

The cab smelt like pennies dipped in hydrochloric acid. Like a science experiment gone south. It smelt like body odor and cigarette smoke. It smelt like a 21st birthday party and the walk of shame. I licked my lips, wiping away the last drops of gin with my tongue. It felt numb and fat in my mouth, but when presented with the alcohol, it tingled and jumped. An ethanol ballet in my stomach. I had my head rested against the window, the vibrations of the vehicle seeming violent and vivacious. My vision tremored until I felt nauseous but I kept my head where it was. I only shut my eyes until I started to see seventeen fingers in my lap.

I could hear the cab driver exclaim on the phone in another language but the shrill beeps and screeches of the other cars seemed to obliterate his voice entirely. The night LEDs were hot and burned brightly, even through the glass of the window. I couldn't tell if I was sweating because of that, or because I was too drunk to feel the frostbitten air conditioning blowing at 200 miles an hour. Everything felt so sick. Someone had cranked the volume up on the city streets. My head thumped thunderously at every chirp of the cab driver, every honk of a horn. They all seemed distorted. Demented. Monsters, monsters everywhere. Even with my eyes closed, I could feel the world spinning from underneath me. Then we rolled to a stop, and I waited. Waited with my eyes shut tight and my head pounding and my stomach dancing and my mind whirring like machinery.

 The driver said something but it sounded like gibberish to me and I stayed still. He repeated himself in the same drawl I couldn't make out, and I opened my eyes, slowly and drowsily, the sudden flicker of incoming headlights burning my retinas. I looked at all four cab drivers, squinting my eyes to bring them together into one, but after a few failed attempts I gave up and groggily came to the conclusion that he wanted my money and I was home. I reached my hand in my pocket, pulled out the first bill I could find and rose it up with a shaking arm. I waved the money back and forth to try and slide it through the window, but the driver got annoyed and snatched it from my hands. I pushed open the door, spilling outside of the car like a pool of jello. Fingers clutched around the side of the door, I waited for my brain to stop rumbling around in my skull before stumbling down the streets. Behind me I could hear the cab driver yelling about something, and coming to the conclusion that I hadn't payed him sufficiently, I picked up my pace.

 ----

 Finding my complex wasn't the difficult part, but, climbing the stairs was. After what seemed like hours of tripping over myself, I concluded my self-bullying for the night and made it into the hallway. I ran my fingertips over the walls as I wobbled through the halls, dress shoes dragging against the carpeted floor. The flooring was a bright, bright red and hurt my eyes, so I focused on the passing grey doors, weaving my way through the halls to find my destination. My legs crumbled with every step and started to jitter. My limbs felt like a puppet's. Every time I looked down, my legs looked like an octopus's. I could still feel the rum sloshing around in my stomach. I was on the verge of vomiting right then and there, but I held it in, since there was really only one direction I could aim my head at the moment and I wasn't about to ruin these shoes again.

 I stopped when I reached my room but it felt like I was still walking, like whenever I got off a treadmill. I felt like space. Starting with my pants pockets and working my way into the inner pouches in my suit, I came across my room key, and went to stick it in the keyhole. I missed and got the handle, then part of the wood on the door. After getting into the mindset of a surgeon, I unlocked the door, and stepped inside. With the key dangling around in my finger, I slid out of my dress shoes and let the door shut on its own, but as soon as I flipped my head toward the living room, I paused.

There were candles lit, but, the wax had managed to pour out of the tiny brass container holding it up and drip onto the dining table. A basket of bread was laid out, next to some Chinese takeout. Chow Mein and pork. A long, fat bottle of wine sat by the wilting candles, about a quarter empty. China plates and soft music. Soft lights. Samantha. She sat at the opposite end of the table, her face flushed with makeup, a hand resting under her cheek to support her head, a tight, black dress gripping her skin. The waft of savory Chinese goodness suddenly struck my nostrils and that was it - I only had enough time to run to the sink, but, I managed to get it out.

 "Fuckfuckfuck--" Slosh.

  I stayed where I was, staring into the stainless steel of the sink and flicking on the faucet. I took in short  breaths until I found my vision again. I craned my neck toward the running water and took a swig (a terrible phrase to use, I might as well as gag again). It was like an extract of God's purity down my throat. I could hear the quiet click of heels coming from behind me. I waited for her voice but she never spoke. I couldn't get myself to turn around. A certain uncomfortable fuzzy feeling was bubbling up in my stomach, and I knew it wasn't the alcohol, since that was gone, now.

 She rested her hand on my back. I could feel her cold, tiny hands even through my jacket. She slid her hands toward my shoulder and carefully pulled me up and away from the sink, striking her icy eyes into mine. I felt something in my chest break. I tried to open my mouth but my face felt numb and I didn't know what my lips were doing. She watched, her grasp on my shoulder tightening and then loosening up. She looked down, bringing her hand back in front of herself. She finally spoke.

 "I called you."

 I swallowed hard, my hand grasping the kitchen counter for support. I used my other arm to try and search for my phone, but, with no avail I cursed under my breath. Left it in the cab. "I, uh…" I tried blubbering something out, but as soon as I looked toward her, I couldn't continue. There was a certain venerability in her complexion that I hadn't seen before.

 "It's… alright." Samantha tugged back her small pink lips to give me a smile. She didn't smile much and it sent a lightning strike down my spine. Scared me. "I  guess I should have known." She looked up to me, raising up her hand to push my hair back, since a few strands were out of place. She wiped off the lipstick stain on my cheekbone. I stunk of tart perfume and booze. She could probably smell it from a mile away. She rested her hands on my neck. It was like icicles - refreshing.

 "I'll take a taxi home." She murmured, then turned, biting her lip. She sounded so quiet. Helpless. I was so used to her stern tone, that demanding, independent manner she always used with me, that I didn't even know how to react. She grabbed her purse and started for the door, but, I followed her out, after tripping over my shoes.  She was halfway down the hall by the time I got out of the door.

 "Sam!" I called, and she stopped, turning back to me with that same, unusual emotionless gawk.

 "What?" She responded.

 I didn't know, but I couldn't say that. I furrowed my brow and just shrugged. This isn't what I had in mind. I wanted to get it. I wanted her to yell and scream. I wanted her to tell me that she hated me like I'd pictured us doing in every other fight. I wanted her to break me down so that I could break her down too so that she could realize after days and days of spending time alone that I was the only one that could bring her back up again. I didn't like this.

 "What, Nick?" She said again, taking a couple steps closer to me and cornering me against the wall.

 "Sam, this isn't… what it…" I stopped as soon as I caught the mistake I was about to make. It was exactly what it looked like. I shut my eyes and groaned. Everything ached.

 "Nick, it's fine. Don't worry about it." Her voice was like a mouse. It was so uncomfortable. "I'm tired and I want to go home. I'll call you tomorrow."

 I watched her unfazed features with perplexity.

 "Why aren't you angry?" I grimaced after a long silence between us.

 Samantha didn't say anything for a little while. She shook, shook, shook her head and leaned toward me, planting a short kiss on my lips and pulling away. Her eyes were stone.

 "Just think of all the times you've screwed me over and get back to me when you figure out the common denominator."

 And with that, she left. Leaving me too drunk to stand, too drunk to comprehend, just drunk enough to ponder the steps on how to disappear completely.