#Advancing in Mediation

[planetdharma]

Advancing In Meditation | Planet Dharma

I embark on annual month-long meditation retreats. It took me nearly twenty years of organizing and participating in group retreats before I did my first solitary retreat, and now I can’t imagine a year without it.

What is like to retreat for a month? No doubt it will be full of wonders and joys and anguish, and everything in between. That’s the thing about meditating: there’s no one else to distract us, to entertain us, to blame for feeling poorly.

As all the world’s wisdom traditions tell us, it’s the yucky stuff that makes for our most profound and valuable transformations. My teacher and partner, Doug Sensei, likes to say, “No breakdown, no breakthrough.” All the yummy goodies like bliss and calm, and what we call happiness, these help us steel our courage and resolve. With these as our fuel or immune system, we triumph when we inevitably meet the metaphorical demons (a.k.a conflicting emotions or other neuroses) that have taken up residence in our hearts and minds.

It feels like such a privilege then to dedicate oneself to enlightening the darkness of ignorance. It’s the foundation of alleviating of suffering.

Know More about Advancing In Meditation

[failsquirrel]

me when i completely switch focus from my original ocs to warrior cats once again.....thinking of doing a story that's partially a warriors rewrite but also it's own thing with different characters

[bronanlynch]

obsessed w the choice to have reinhard & hilda hook up for the first time in the context of. reinhard is having a breakdown over his guilt at the death of his boy best friend like. very heterosexual of him, I'm sure

[apostacism]

#this is why i never liked the idea of hof trying to find the cure that dai posited#the entire point of the wardens is that there's no cure#deal with the actual problems the order has to if you want to give hof something to do#let them go take over weisshaupt (i will write about that one day btw) let them search for archdemons to kill them before blight#let them deal with intelligent darkspawn like the architect & corypheus#just don't remove all the moral ambiguity and tragedy that the wardens carry inherently#and if the hof doesn't find the cure? will they have wasted their limited 30 years on nothing? just a bad idea overall (via @headwaters-of-agidel)

SAY IT LOUDER!

There's something to be said about fandom's romanticization of the wardens that I think is not quite true to what the wardens actually are. The wardens aren't freedom or a chance to start over or community when you've lacked it (and characters who are shown to imbue the wardens with this are regularly disappointed by it), the wardens are an independent quasi military organization leading short, brutal lives in pursuit of a seemingly impossible task. Bethany is not being unreasonable by her anger and disappointment at her joining - being a warden is a trap, it is a one-way street, it closes at least as many doors as it opens, if not more, and it promises only death as a reward.

[momlovesyoubest]

End of Life-When Do You Facilitation?

Therapist Why do some families need facilitation of a family meeting at the end of life? With the help of a neutral third-party facilitator, families work together to resolve their differences or solve a problem they could not address satisfactorily without help. Find out more in my newest free Webinar on February 25th 2005 These family differences especially happen to dysfunctional families but…

[tyrannuspitch]

hmm french ppl love manga don't they. maybe i can find a way to read the rest of this story in french

[veunho]

Nothing will ever be as fun as coming up with ways to bullshit my way into the ✨perfect administrative resume✨ when all I have on me are a bunch of school mandated courses, being an exploited cashier at a barber shop and being the local nanny.

[loldental]

would love if the most accessible places online to talk about fashion and mediation were not overtly right wing. Really would love that.

[spatialwave]

aches and pains.

➸ ask: "“Tell me to stop and we stop. I don’t care what’s happening. All I care about is you” with Viktor please 🥹👉��" - @lillycore ➸ pairing: viktor x fem!reader ➸ word count: 1.7k ➸ tags: mdni! nsfw, pwp, smut, hurt/comfort, no use of y/n. ➸ notes: ty for the ask!!! <3<3<3

Viktor’s lips on your skin took away all that weighed you down. His touch or calm words mediated the worst days—you were so lucky to have his comfort. A man who loved you so much that he would do anything he could to keep a smile on your face.

Or to see your face contorted in pleasure at the gentlest of breaths along your body.

You were easy to please only because your lover was a quick learner. A few ghosting touches to your thighs taught him that you preferred taking things slow. Your legs spread and lips trembling when he would dip fingers between your rounded thighs, fingertips brushing along the fabric of your underwear only to drag back to your skin.

When his fingers returned to your heat, you were a mess, soaked through the fabric between your legs and onto the bedsheet below.

Viktor aimed to learn your body, to understand every ebb and flow of your emotions, and to want nothing more than to support all that was you.

His eyes flickered under the candlelight as he read the pages of a rather lengthy novel. Resting back on the couch with you, legs tangled, reading under the dim light as you drifted in and out of sleep after a long day at the academy left you exhausted.

You left so early and came home so late that you had only seen the sun through the few windows of the lab you were in. All for science—not much for your well-being.

He smirked behind the pages, face hidden from your view, “You’re not sneaky.”

You thought you had been, but your foot between his legs had rubbed a bit too hard against the hardening bulge in his slacks. Of course, he wasn’t at all oblivious to your advances. 

“Oops,” you giggled, sinking further into the couch as you watched him coyly. Smiling when he peeked over his book and directly at you, a brow quirked.

“I thought you were trying to rest,” he chided playfully, closing the book and resting it atop his lap. He shifted beneath your touch, your foot still offering gentle rubs against his growing erection that showed how much he wanted this, too, “If I keep you up, you aren’t going to complain that you’re too tired in the morning, are you? So I have to make breakfast and bring it to you in bed.”

A sickeningly sweet smile spread across your lips, combating the tired look in your eyes. “Don’t act like you don’t prefer cooking breakfast. You said yourself that I’m a horrible cook.”

He swatted at your leg, a guttural hum of disappointment coming from him, “I didn’t say that… I said you weren’t, eh,“ he battled through proper wording for a moment, ”the best cook.”

You rolled your eyes at his sheepish smile. “Same thing,” you giggled, biting down on your bottom lip as you retracted your foot and moved to sit up, extending a hand as you stood.

Viktor allowed himself to be tugged along by you after he blew out the candle, following you slowly to the unmade bed that looked inviting at the late hour. With how exhausted you seemed, he almost wondered if you would fall asleep.

The heavy bags under your eyes were a bit concerning, reminiscent of his own days when work took priority over himself.

“Don’t force yourself if you’re too tired,” he reminded you, his voice was soft as you both lay in bed, much of your clothing already removed from each other’s bodies. His lips were pressed to your bare shoulder as he lay on his side, peppering you with soft kisses while his hand grazed over your lower stomach. It ignited flames inside your abdomen.

“Not tired,” you mumbled. It had been over two weeks since you were last intimate with him, you couldn’t help but feel like you needed to do this—you hadn’t gone this long without sex with Viktor ever. 

It had been on your mind since you arrived home, a new insecurity wrapping your psyche. Would he lose interest in you if you didn’t?

Your brain wasn’t kind to you when you were tired.

Viktor trusted your words and continued. His lips left lazy, open-mouth kisses along your skin while his hand pushed below the fabric that clung tight to your hips. Long fingers brushed between your already wet folds, and Viktor smirked.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” he whispered lowly, lips brushing against the shell of your ear, “You’re already so excited. You must have been waiting patiently all day for this.”

Squirming at his touch, you looked into his yellow eyes, which illuminated under the soft lighting offered by a small bedside lamp. Specks of gold swirled through them as he admired you, analyzing your reactions as your lips parted into an ‘o’ shape and eyes fell shut at his careful ministrations.

Viktor enjoyed taking his time with you, fingers rubbing slow circles against your clit—dipping into your tight cunt to curl against your g-spot. His thumb continued the pressure against your bundle of nerves, leaving your back arching and quiet mewls escaping your lips.

“Viktor,” you breathed his name out, his practiced touches already pushing you to the edge. The heat in your lower stomach grew bigger with each pump of his fingers inside you, his hot breath on your neck pushing you so damned close.

You hadn’t thought your release would come so soon and easily, and your mind eased at finding solace in rest soon.

“Not yet, love,” he murmured, relishing in the whine that came from you when his fingers pulled from its spot inside your tight walls. Leaving you empty and unsatisfied, wondering how you would make it through this before passing out into a deep sleep.

You were completely spent by the time his head was between your legs, exhaustion overwhelming you with each passing moment. Yet, you didn’t want this to end—not when you’d craved his touch so desperately. When you felt like you were so far in, you’d only disappoint him if you stopped now.

So, you kept pushing yourself forward. Focusing on the pleasure filling your veins as he settled into the bed below you, and you straddled him.

His cock pushed deep inside you as your hips dropped, your cunt wrapping so deliciously tight around him. You gasped as you rolled your hips, nails dragging along his chest as you looked up at the ceiling and rode him with tired movements. Your stomach was full of heat, pleasure filling all of your senses, but it wasn’t enough to get lost in

Your mind was a storm of negative thoughts. Clouded by overexertion.

Nimble hands held your hips, soft moans coming from Viktor as you bounced yourself up and down. Fucking yourself on him—though not with the fiery passion you often had.

Your thighs had already begun to tremble, aching so soon.

Viktor took notice.

“My love.” Your eyes dropped and widened, watching as your lover shifted up on an elbow and looked over your face. His hand moving to caress your cheek, thumb rubbing at your skin, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you lied after a few beats of silence, feeling your stomach twist tightly.

Viktor’s brows furrowed together as he moved to sit up, allowing you to rest back on his thighs. Your eyes had begun to water, glistening with unshed tears as your emotions heightened.

“No, no,” he whispered, his eyes softening, “You’re not okay, and that’s okay. Tell me if this is too much, and we’ll stop. I don’t care about this—I care about you.”

You wiped your eyes with two hands, forcing the tears away. “But we’ve just been so busy,” you sniffled, embarrassment crawling up your spine. “We haven’t done this in a long time, and I don’t want to disappoint you. It’s not too much—I’m just so tired.” You pouted, sulking at the reality of the situation and avoiding his gaze.

Viktor’s arms wrapped around you in response, holding you to his chest as he pulled you back. Now laying amongst the pillows, your ear pressed to his chest and listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as tears spilled down your cheeks.

“Don’t ever feel like you have to do this for me,” he whispered, fingers combing through your hair, “I’ll love you no matter what. You could take an oath of celibacy, and I would still love you. I would only have to find time to tend to myself now and then.”

You heard the smile grow on his lips, and you couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled up your throat. Tilting your head back, you peered up to meet his gaze. All the worries in your mind melting away at his sincerity.

If there was anyone who knew you better than yourself, it was Viktor. The man who knew what you needed from a particular look in your eyes, or knew exactly what you’d say next when you spoke so passionately about something you loved. He could tell how overworked you had become lately as you navigated your final years of schooling. Somehow, finding yourself busier than him, who was assistant to the dean.

“You’re too good for me,” you murmured, burying your face into his bare chest, “I feel bad. Now you’re all worked up, and I’m just crying on you like a mess.”

”I’ll survive,” he chucked, fingers trailing along your spine.

Slowly, he moved you both until you were on the bed next to him. Face still hiding against his chest, but now with your arms wrapped tight around his waist and a leg thrown over his hips. Clinging to him tightly.

“Promise me you’ll get some rest tomorrow. Proper rest.” 

You yawned against his chest, “I promise.”

Viktor held you, arms wrapped around your shoulders as his chin rested atop your head. His eyes fixated on the open window, watching the moon in the distance that had risen over the skyline of Piltover.

You snored once you fell asleep, each soft sound easing his heart as he thought about what he’d make you for breakfast.

[sayruq]

An Iranian military security official has revealed exclusively to The Cradle that the US contacted the Islamic Republic, asking the nation to allow Israel "a symbolic strike to save face” following Iran's retaliatory drone and missile barrage this weekend. “Iran has received messages from mediators to let the regime do a symbolic strike to save face and asked Iran not to retaliate,” the source, who spoke on condition of anonymity, revealed to The Cradle. He added that Tehran “outright rejected” the proposal, delivered by mediators, and reiterated warnings that any Israeli attack on Iranian soil would be met with a decisive and immediate response.

The revelations come as US defense officials have told western media that they expect a “limited response” from Israel against Iran, which will reportedly focus on targets outside of Iranian territory. Nevertheless, US officials stressed that Tel Aviv had not briefed the Pentagon on a “final decision” as discussions within Israel's fractured war cabinet continued. “The US does not intend to take part in the military response,” they confirmed. However, they expect Israel to inform Washington about response plans in advance.

[steddieasitgoes]

Okay I’m halfway through The Dustin Experiment and here are some fun snippets you might consider using in fics/art:

- Dustin occasionally going with Steve and Robin to their after school Family Video shifts to hang out with them

- Steve lets the kids rent movies without actually running it through the system and Robin hates it because of the Karate Kid incident

- The jocks are genuinely afraid of Eddie

- Eddie and Dustin hit it off after Dustin fixes Eddie’s Walkman and later his amp

- Dustin and Suzie have radio dates twice a week and they even started their own book club

- Eddie made Dustin a mix tape full of metal songs “because man cannot live on Weird Al alone”

- Robin likes to launch paper footballs at Steve’s head while he’s restocking

- Claudia loves her son so much she doesn’t care that he continuously blows the power of the whole house

- Robin offers to mediate for Dustin and Lucas since they’re not talking

- Steve’s Saturdays are “booked weeks in advance”

- Dustin ask Eddie to drive him to Indy and says “Help me, Eddie-Wan Kenobi” ; Eddie is not amused

- Dustin learns Max moved to Forest Hills after he leaves Eddie’s house and spots her

- Robin DOES mediate between the boys and makes them do trust falls which she makes Steve help her demonstrate

- Steve is apparently afraid of a show called Turbo Teen

- Dustin (and all the boys) write to Will to the point where he knows what’s going on including hellfire and Lucas’s basketball try outs

- Will even sends Dustin a sketch title card for his science fair poster

- Eddie is afraid of ducks because they’re “pure evil” and “have eyes that can look into your soul and do irreparable psychic damage”

- Dustin’s dad cheated on Claudia and when they divorced they moved back to Hawkins

- Eddie gives Dustin a pep talk when he’s nervous about the science fair and tells him it’s okay to be nervous and that he still gets nervous before gigs

- Eddie told an entire group of science fair kids a scary story

[reasonsforhope]

"A study looking at the bearers of artificial hearts found that a subset of them can regenerate heart muscle tissue—the first time such an observation has ever been made.

It may open the door to new ways to treat and perhaps someday cure heart failure, the deadliest non-communicable disease on Earth. The results were published in the journal Circulation.

A team of physician-scientists at the University of Arizona’s Heart Center in Tucson led a collaboration of international experts to investigate whether heart muscles can regenerate.

According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, heart failure affects nearly 7 million US adults and is responsible for 14% of deaths per year. There is no cure for heart failure, though medications can slow its progression. The only treatment for advanced heart failure, other than a transplant, is a pump replacement through an artificial heart, called a left ventricular assist device, which can help the heart pump blood.

“Skeletal muscle has a significant ability to regenerate after injury. If you’re playing soccer and you tear a muscle, you need to rest it, and it heals,” said Hesham Sadek, director of the University’s Sarver Heart Center.

It was previously thought that when a heart muscle is injured, it could never grow back.

“Irrefutable evidence of heart muscle regeneration has never been shown before in humans,” he said. “This study provided direct evidence.”

The project began with tissue from artificial heart patients provided by colleagues at the University of Utah Health and School of Medicine led by Stavros Drakos, MD, PhD, and a pioneer in left ventricular assist device-mediated recovery.

Teams in Sweden and Germany used their innovative method of carbon dating human heart tissue to track whether these samples contained newly generated cells. The investigators found that patients with artificial hearts regenerated muscle cells at more than six times the rate of healthy hearts.

“This is the strongest evidence we have, so far, that human heart muscle cells can actually regenerate, which really is exciting, because it solidifies the notion that there is an intrinsic capacity of the human heart to regenerate,” Sadek said.

“It also strongly supports the hypothesis that the inability of the heart muscle to ‘rest’ is a major driver of the heart’s lost ability to regenerate shortly after birth. It may be possible to target the molecular pathways involved in cell division to enhance the heart’s ability to regenerate.”

In 2011, Sadek published a paper in Science showing that while heart muscle cells actively divide in utero, they stop dividing shortly after birth to devote their energy to pumping blood through the body nonstop, with no time for breaks.

In 2014, he published evidence of cell division in patients with artificial hearts, hinting that their heart muscle cells might have been regenerating because they were able to rest.

These findings, combined with other research teams’ observations that some artificial heart patients could have their devices removed after experiencing a reversal of symptoms, led him to wonder if the artificial heart provides cardiac muscles the equivalent of bed rest like a person needs when recovering from injury.

“The pump pushes blood into the aorta, bypassing the heart,” he said. “The heart is essentially resting.”

Sadek’s previous studies indicated that this rest might be beneficial for the heart muscle cells, but he needed to design an experiment to determine whether patients with artificial hearts were actually regenerating muscles.

Next, Sadek wants to figure out why only about 25% of patients are “responders” to artificial hearts, meaning that their cardiac muscle regenerates.

“It’s not clear why some patients respond and some don’t, but it’s very clear that the ones who respond have the ability to regenerate heart muscle,” he said. “The exciting part now is to determine how we can make everyone a responder, because if you can, you can essentially cure heart failure.

“The beauty of this is that a mechanical heart is not a therapy we hope to deliver to our patients in the future—these devices are tried and true, and we’ve been using them for years.”"

-via Good News Network, December 31, 2024

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The House Guest 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

Summary: an old acquaintance calls in a favour, leaving you with an unexpected house guest.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“When I said I owed you,” you whisper and look over your shoulder. 

“Talk as quiet as you want, he’s got super hearing. Can’t even squeak out a silent but deadly with this guy,” Sam chuckles. 

“Wow, that’s gross,” you crinkle your nose. 

“I can be a nasty boy.” 

“Not better,” you give him an apprehensive look as you face him. “I saw him on the news.” 

“Hey, I was there too,” Sam chirps. 

“I know that but...” 

“He got a bit trigger happy. We’re just waiting for things to blow over. He needs a calming personality.” 

“So not you,” you retort. 

“No, not me. I’m into choking but not by him,” he snickers. 

“I can hear you,” the man leaning on the car hood snaps back as the sucker in his mouth hits his teeth. 

“Oh, I know,” Sam shoots a finger gun in his direction. “Also, he’s giving up smoking so he’s a bit testy.” 

“No, I spent eight hours in a car with you so I’m pissed off,” the grumbly sidekick hurls back. 

You look between them. Sam Wilson, the new Cap, superhero, avengers, comedian, and Bucky Barnes, Winter Soldier, assassin, and... mystery. You should refuse. You owe him but that much? A near-fugitive in your house? 

“Sam, I don’t exactly got a guest room,” you cross your arms. 

“Look, if the dame don’t wanna take me, don’t twist her arm,” Bucky sneers and bites into the sucker, scraping the stick with his teeth. “I can figure myself out.” 

“That’s what you said before the explosion. I’m not falling for it again, man,” Sam shoots back and shakes his head. He puts his hands on his hips and faces you. “You’re not just doing a service to me, but to America.” 

“Yes, okay, but this is Canada.” 

His eyes drift in realisation and his lashes flutter, “right, but we’re allies.” He looks at you again and smiles, “I thought Canadians were nice.” 

You roll your eyes. “Goddamnit. Fine.” 

“Like I said,” Bucky approaches, “I can go somewhere else. I don’t wanna be a burden.” 

“It’s not you,” you assure him. “There isn’t much space, that’s all. If you’re fine with that, so am I.” 

“I told him, it’s not a big deal,” Bucky huffs. “But he insists.” 

“I have to insist. I’m the Captain now.” 

“You keep saying,” he turns on Sam. “So why don’t you get that shield and we’ll see if you’re really up to that title.” 

“Alright, alright,” you step between them. You’re not a fan of conflict. Sam knows that and that’s why he brought him here. “No need to argue. You got a couch,” you look at Bucky then turn to the other man, “and you have a long ride home.” 

“Wait, you’re kicking me out?” Sam says. 

“If you stay any longer, I won’t stop him. I said he could stay, I said nothing about mediating whatever this is,” you wiggle your finger between them. 

Bucky snorts. He’s just as bad as Sam. They seem to only know how to goad the other.  

“Fair. I mean, you don’t want this guy getting any grumpier. He’s already such a treat,” Sam smirks. 

“Enough, I just told you,” you wag your index at him. “Well, nice to meet ya,” you turn and offer your hand to Bucky, “welcome to Canada.” 

“Thanks,” he says, though you can sense him staring down the other man. 

“Sam, have a safe trip. You need water or anything for the road?” You offer over your shoulder. 

“Nah, I think I’m good. A nice ride home alone. With good music. Think I’m set.” He cackles. 

“You wouldn’t know good music if it shot you in the face,” Bucky growls. 

“Dude, go get your bag out of my car,” Sam snips. “Good riddance, is what I say.” 

“Drive safe,” you shake your head as you walk toward the house. “I was in the middle of something.” 

You climb the porch steps and leave the inner door open as the screen door snaps shut behind you. Out of sight, you stop to shake off the adrenaline. You only realise then how the unexpected rival stirred you up. You weren’t ready for Sam but especially not a houseguest. Still, the only reason you have this place is because of that man. You can do this. 

You take a breath and go back to the kitchen. If Sam trusts Bucky, you can too. You’re not one to welcome in strangers, especially men, but this is different. And even if he asked, it wasn’t much of a choice. 

You wash your hands and dry them before pushing your sleeves back up. The striped button-up isn’t exactly your Sunday best. You add breadcrumbs to the bowl of raw beef as you hear footsteps on the porch. The door opens slowly and gently hits the frame. You listen to your guest as he sighs in the entryway. 

The house is small. One-floor, a single bedroom, a bathroom, a living room and a kitchen with a small dining table that doubles as your workspace. It isn’t much, but it’s yours. And it’s history. Your family’s. 

You sense him hovering just outside the doorway. You glance behind yourself and hang your hands over the brim of the bowl. You still need to chop the veggies but that can wait. It isn’t his fault Sam decided this would be the balance in the scales. 

“Let me show you around.” You cross the kitchen as he peers through.  

His beard is dark, his hair overgrown and pushed back behind his ears, and tugs at the bottom of his denim jacket. He looks skittish as you approach. He has a duffel bag in his hand. 

“Look, sorry if I came off short. You know how Sam can be,” you say. 

“I do. He assumes a lot,” he mutters. 

“Sure does. So, like I said, it’s not a big house. Kitchen here,” you point over your shoulder, “living room behind you, bathroom down the hall and the bedroom. There’s a back door. Yard’s bigger than the house.” 

“Got it.” 

“So, you’ll have to camp out on the couch but good news, it’s from 1987 so it folds out,” you squeeze by him and lead the way into the front room. 

“Beats a full barracks,” he comments. 

You nod and peek over at him. “Guess that makes sense.” 

He sniffs, “thanks. Really.” 

“Again, not too much,” you gesture to the room. “I gotta finish the meatloaf.” 

“Think I can handle it,” he affirms. 

[bubblebbg]

can i ask for a jealous mizu from blue eye samurai feeling a little overprotective and jealous when taigen spars with reader bc they are a swordmaster as well? Mizu doesn’t like it how taigen always gets you to laugh or how he injures you when sparring

why yes, anon. you may. Only warning is violence, but like, not really? Not proofread. Also, Mizu's pronouns change per perspective. I may as well shamelessly plug my other Mizu fic right here ;))

❝𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝❞

Mizu has no one to blame but herself when she's forced to bite back her envy and watch you with Taigen. If you two spar one more time, she might throw up in her mouth. It's about time she takes matters into her own hands.

The clinking of metal on metal, the air sliced through with a swish; all sounds Mizu has become accustomed to. Nonetheless, her eyebrow twitches in irritation, eyes following the movements in front of her. She thinks to herself that she never wanted to be this accustomed to those sounds, especially not when accompanied with Taigen's stupid remarks.

She watches you double back after having knocked him down yet again in the midst of your spars. She hates the way the both of you giggle.

"Please," Mizu rolls her eyes, "It can't be that funny the eighth time."

Taigen collects his sword and stands, sheathing it before dusting himself off. "Like you could do any better. Sure, you're good, but you're no master." He looks to you as he says this, smiling as if the praise was at all inconspicuous. She scoffs a bit when you smile back, crossing her arms and looking to the side.

The irony of her jealousy is that it's of her own making. You've asked Mizu to train with you before, and every time it's been a no. Because she cares about you, she at least does you the decency of making up excuses. "I'm tired, maybe tomorrow" or "I'm busy" - poor excuses, she knows, but she's trying here - and you've learned to stop asking. The truth is, she doesn't trust herself to not give away what she tries to keep hidden. Her heart already beats hard enough around you. The consequence? Watching you spar with a man who's clearly inferior to you, all while he makes pathetic advances and jokes. She's not sure if she hates him or herself more right now.

"But that's right," Taigen remarks, a snarky look on his face, "You're too scared, aren't you?"

The look in your eyes is cautionary as you nudge him. "Stop it," you mutter. And Mizu knows she shouldn't be so childish as to take the bait, but this isn't about you; it's a direct challenge from Taigen on her (sort of) manlihood.

"I am not scared."

"Then prove it. Duel. Right now."

"That's enough, Taigen," you reply, always the mediator, "If Mizu doesn't want to spar, then he -"

"I'll do it," she stands, approaching you both and stopping in front of Taigen with a searing look, "And you'll see that you're not even half the swordsman I am."

𓆩… . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . …𓆪

Inhale. Exhale. You stand face to face, a few meters apart, each a hand on their sword. The cold bites, snow falling between the two of you. When you look into her eyes, you see blazing fire, a spirit like tempered steel. When she looks into yours, there's something more unnerving; calm, like the surface of water undisturbed. Her heart pounds.

Inhale, she wills herself. Exhale. She draws and lunges, and you're quick to block it. Another swing, and another, and another, all quick and strong. Sharp eyes, she thinks. Each attack of hers is stopped as soon as it begins. Your eyes, watching as if not only to prevent, but to predict.

Inhale. She steps back, assessing. You're like a fortress - impenetrable defense. Your lips curl in the slightest smile and there goes her damn heart's pounding again.

Exhale. She drops to a crouch and swipes snow at you in an attempt to blind you, to throw off your analysis. She lunges through the spray with a decisive blow, a duel-ending strike.

Nothing. Her blade hits nothing.

Instead there's a blade at her throat, with you behind her. "How the hell did you -"

She reddens at the feeling of your warm chuckle at her ear. "You're breathing gives you away," you whisper, "Every time, without fail." You sheath your blade and Mizu whips around to look at you. She can't help but share the smile you give her. "Dirty bastard," she replies, and your laughter fills the air, the only sound she'll never tire of.

"Hah! I knew it, you're no match either, Mizu!"

Mizu's about to reply when you beat her to it.

"Whatever Taigen, he lasted longer than you ever will."

And it's Mizu's turn to laugh.

[shorthaltsjester]

last ep really reignited (not that it was ever really unignited) my love for fjorester man. a girl who grows up learning only to mediate her life through tropes from romance novels and a boy who grows up literally chiseling off the parts of himself that he thinks stain him and hiding the parts he can’t literally shed himself of. and like. the way that jester becoming aquatinted with reality doesn’t completely undo her Romance Goggles™ but instead inverts it and has her take on the handsome hero role to fjord’s damsel in distress. like. in practice they switch who’s the damsel and who’s the hero but in terms of overall arc. jester is the handsome roguish figure on the run from the law who runs into the uncertain and floundering figure trying to figure out who he actually is. (and obviously they’re both these things in different ways. what makes fjorester so delicious is that their arcs have such similar shapes but with different focuses) but like. jester who starts out flirting trying to play at being like her mother and like the characters from the romances she’s read only to end up romancing fjord in the moments when she subverts that. when she’s crying in front of jellyfish and carefully asking him about a past only she’s been privy to and confiding to him that she’ll give up her life if it stops the evil that’s coming. meanwhile fjord is courting danger and dying in front of her and blushing when her advances are mort overt and like. the way they both romance each other in ways that suit each other. jester checking in with him in quiet moments (always thinking about jester’s hesitant ‘how are you?’ in ep 117 that makes fjord break out into the sweetest surprised and endeared smile) and fjord doing big romantic gestures in response. the way that’s encapsulated in the ways they tell each other they love each other for the first time, jester quietly snuggled up against him in the middle of the night and fjord after conjuring rain that they can kiss in. jester giving ashton romance advice that assumes ashton’s role as the masculine pursuer and then doing exactly what she recommended he do to fearne to fjord. her little addendum after the silliness of “and then you just tell her how you feel” (i can’t recall the exact line). and just. fjord and jester as these people with so much bravado and masks that they have both because they find enjoyment in putting them on but also because of burdens they’ve taken on but both of them also having a person they can unbuckle in front of without sacrificing the like. playfulness a mask grants, they’re just also allowed the safety of being seen. do you get it? do you get it? they make me lose my mind.