#and it IS difficult. but you know what resonates more with me than ignoring it. acknowledgement and accommodation.

[blueish-bird]

a character that can’t directly touch others without hurting them can be something so personal

[luckykiwiii101]

HOW TO ENTER THE VOID STATE WITHOUT VOID CONCEPT!!! (Guaranteed) ❦❦❦❦❦❦❦

(Warning!!!Long post ahead)

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🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

I know some people will heavily disagree with me about this. But I really believe there is a way to enter the void without having to have a good void concept.

All you need is to believe in the void state. That’s it.

The technique:

- Get into a comfortable position.🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

- Clear your mind with a meditation or something. Maybe by breathing etc, whatever works for you. I really recommend DMT waves to calm your mind. Know that it is important to feel calm physically and mentally. Although it is not completely necessary if you are experienced.🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

- Once you feel relaxed and have a clear mind, start to affirm your affs for the void state. E.g. “I am pure consciousness” “I am void” “I am in the void state” (You don’t need to affirm, just do anything that distracts you from the 3D, like focusing on your breath, or focusing on the darkness behind your eyes. Anything is alright as long as it doesn’t lead to you falling asleep or paying attention to the 3D).🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

- Acknowledge that you do not need to completely block out the 3D. What i mean by “block out” is that you may still be able to hear and feel the 3D. Just don’t focus your attention onto it. Your attention should be on your affirmations or whatever else you chose to focus on (doesn’t have to be affirmations). Also if you get an itch, ignore it, but if it’s too unbearable and it’s completely ruining your focus, there’s no harm in scratching it. You may ask “but why can i scratch it? I have to stay still or i won’t enter the void.” The thing is, this technique does not require you to turn off your left brain as you will normally start to feel symptoms within 2-5 minutes within doing so, and it takes 15-20 minutes to turn off your left brain. Of course you can turn off your left brain by relaxing whilst staying still for 15-20 minutes if that is what you resonate with better. Know that scratching an itch, or shuffling around does not stop you from entering the void. It does not “ruin your progress” either. That is impossible. The void is within you, you cannot run from yourself. YOU ARE THE VOID!🖤🖤🖤

- Know that you do not have to feel symptoms like floating. This is a big misconception. Ofcourse symptoms are very common, but not everyone experiences them. People feel like they can’t enter the void because the symptoms aren’t there to “tell them” that they are “doing it right”. As long as you are not focused on the 3D, you ARE doing it right. Stop stressing. You are supposed to feel relaxed. Stressing is the opposite of relaxation.🖤🖤🖤🖤

- This process will probably take you around 5 minutes. Ofcourse it depends on you as a person. Like how long it takes you to clear your mind. Or how long it takes you to feel comfortable. This should not take more than 1-10 minutes. Most likely will take 2-5 minutes. But don’t worry if it takes longer than that. Erase the stress and anxiety from your mind because you know for a fact that you are going to enter the void. I promise that this cannot fail you. It is literally impossible. It is not based on assumption. It doesn’t matter whether you believe it’s difficult to enter the void state. Just know that you are going to enter the void very quickly because there is no other outcome after doing this. There is no “failure”. 🖤🖤🖤🖤

- You will most likely start to feel floating symptoms etc. Spinning, falling (If you are someone who doesn’t usually feel symptoms, that is fine). When things get more intense the floating feeling might make you feel like you are “panicking”. But don’t worry, just focus and relax. 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

- THIS IS A VERY CRUCIAL PART!!! Do not focus on your symptoms. Of course you can feel them, but do not pay attention to them. Do not focus on them. There you go. You are in the void.🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

See how easy it is. Try it for yourself and watch how failure doesn’t exist. I don’t care what your void concept is like. I don’t care whether you think you can’t do it. You have no choice when doing this method. This has been used for years and years. It is literally just detachment from the 3D. It is not difficult.🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

BIG MISTAKES PEOPLE MAKE:

Some people make some really silly mistakes and then complain about “not being able to enter the void.”🖤🖤🖤

MISTAKE NUMBER 1:

- Anticipating entering the void. Your goal should be to relax. Of course to eventually enter the void, but if you are anticipating by thinking “When am i going to enter the void?!” “When am i going to start feeling symptoms?” then you are just going to stress yourself out. Do not do this! When you are clearing your mind, set the intention of entering the void and just relax and know that you are going to enter.🖤🖤🖤

MISTAKE NUMBER 2:

- Thinking that movement is not allowed. You ARE allowed to move around and adjust your position. It doesn’t “slow you down” or “ruin your progress”. It doesn’t stop you from entering. So stop stressing. Moving around only matters when you are turning your left brain off, but this method does not require that. I’ve moved around plenty of times and i’ve seen many success stories of people who have moved around whilst literally having a terrible void concept on top of that.🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

MISTAKE NUMBER 3:

- When people start to feel the symptoms, they drift their attention to the 3D and how their physical body feels. DO NOT DO THIS!! Just keep focusing on what you were focusing on before, then you will enter the void in a few seconds. Literally. I always used to do this and just yesterday i stopped letting the symptoms get the best of me and get distracted by them, i kept persisting in my affirmations whilst affirming to enter the void and i felt myself entering but since i didn’t want to enter (because i am a dumbass), i woke myself up. But it’s TOO easy. Okay. Ignoring symptoms are ridiculously easy.

WHAT TO DO IF I FIND IT DIFFICULT TO IGNORE SYMPTOMS?

There are many ways you can ignore symptoms:

For mild focus (when you don’t feel symptoms yet):

- Focus on breathing and breathing only.

- Focus on affirming and affirming only.

- Focus on the darkness behind eyes only

For when you start to feel symptoms but they aren’t that intense:

- Focus on breathing and affirming only.

- Focus on breathing and darkness only.

- Focus on affirming and darkness only.

For when symptoms start to get really intense and you can feel yourself entering the void:

- Focus on all three simultaneously.

If you still find it easy to focus on ONE thing when things get intense (which they might not) then that’s fine. You don’t have to focus on more than one thing. That’s just a solution for people who can’t. Also i just have examples of what to focus on. Ofc you can focus on random thoughts or anything detached from the 3D. Whatever makes you feel most comfortable.🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

See how easy it is. Go enter the void rn and have fun whether you just wanted peace or to manifest something!!!🖤🖤🖤

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🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Sincerely, - Gossip Girl 💋💋💋

[brujamala-aka-gigi]

still fucked up? here's a pick a pile reading.

pile 1. pile 2. pile 3.

a pick a pile reading inspired on sundays being the longest and most tedious day of the week. i never know what to do on a sunday other than overthinking and feeling sort of gloomy.

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· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ – • · Pile 1 · • – ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Honestly, I really dig this combination of cards. I feel like this Page of Wands is asking you to take a different approach when thinking of success. It's clear that you value material and spiritual achievements equally, but you see them as something that's too far away from your reality. I think that it is very important to recognize that you are guarded by energies that match your ambitions, and you are doing things right to become the person you wish to be. 

Other than that, it is also relevant to think of the dissonances and miscommunications that can cause you trouble when trying to face any obstacles in your journey. The Emperor and The High Priestess are both equally strong in their own ways. Both of these energies are present in your life, and they happen to be complete polar opposites, the peak of male energy and the peak of female energy. Balancing both with every step you take is difficult, therefore it's understandable if you choose to focus on one or another depending on the moment. Ideally, these two should be able to communicate with one another, so you don't betray the nature of one taking actions more suitable to the other. 

In order to do this, I'd say that it's a great moment to look at the world with child-like eyes; allow yourself to be amused and ruled by curiosity, enrich your life with first time experiences and find joy in spaces where your creativity is nurtured. Don't assume that your learning years are over. 

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ – • · Pile 2 · • – ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Okay, this is a tough one. Stay strong bestie. So… Clearly that Ten of Swords is about something in your head that has caused major negative impacts on your life. I wouldn't say it's mostly about emotional distress by itself, but instead I think it's more about the prevalence of dysfunctional thought processing patterns that are being ignored or mishandled in the social and emotional parts of your life. It seems that a deep understanding of your own sensitivity hasn't been enough to cope with this. 

But, it's not all bad, as the presence of both Kings, Wands and Cups, show me that the maturity and strength is there, what's lacking tho, is a more solid sense of trust on the logic presented by sources outside your own head. Feeling trapped and buried by your own thoughts, it's common enough that you can share them with trusted ones surrounding you in order to appease feelings of doubt and desperation. 

This combination of cards shows me that you have the capacity to move from this thought provoked stagnation, to move from a mental eco chamber of negativity. To accomplish this you should aim to build more solid relations based on nurturing each other's potential and emotional strength. Don't be doubtful when taking the first steps towards what you already know you can do for bettering yourself and others. Stop being confident in negative thoughts and begin being confident in positive ones, even if you need help beginning to do so. 

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ – • · Pile 3 · • – ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Well, one is not bad but it’s not that good either. I think the main topic of this spread is to remain cautious when material success is achieved, in order to not cause yourself emotional and spiritual harm. Sometimes our material achievements can be directly related to spiritual growth, yet, we can not deny that the energy we spend on creating success for ourselves is just as valuable as the energy we spend on our spiritual journeys. In this case, the Seven of Pentacles shows me that your sense of purpose, in resonance with patience and determination, will bring great satisfaction as long as you take time to reflect and rest from the hard work. 

Nonetheless, be careful with who you choose to be generous with. There’s nothing wrong with providing a helping hand, but make sure that those who receive it understand the value of your hard work and are not there to deceit you by playing victims. Keep an eye on anything that is causing you doubts on your enterprises, and do not fool yourself with ideas and proposals that come from unrealistic perspectives. This is a great moment to reflect on the ways your energy is being received by others. The main priority should be your well being and your stability first. You can’t give to others if you can’t provide for yourself.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ – • · FIN · • – ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

hey there, im gigi i did this tarot thing, hii. hope this was at least fun to read i guess? im just chilling with the cards and writing. thinking about making a introduction post but then idk... like i love this blog and i love tumblr so im like ayyy i get to practice my english and get back into tarot? slay. like i swear

im kinda rusty with tarot's rn but hopefully eventually I'll get back on it like i used to so i guess that if someone wants to follow me in case i open my questions inbox to answer questions with the cards and stuff that could be nice.

ugh and im also putting together a nicer space for the readings, my desk is full of paint stains (my normal job is art related lol) and there's always a university thing peaking from the side of my desk, it's like my notes are watching me while i kinda ignore them...

anyways i got like 40 notes on my first post, soooo thaaaanks omg i was so like nervous about it i hate that im this kinda shy to post tarot content anynomously like wtf how can i be like that when im posting nasty thirst traps on my personal instagram with no context?? the duality of women i guess. okay this is too much venting

bye thanks for reading, stay bad, stay focused, might post a card of the week PAC reading later seee yaaaa love yaaa

｡ ﾟ ꒰ঌ ✦MASTERPOST & PAID SERVICES ໒꒱ ༘*.ﾟ

[pascaloverx]

BORN TO DIE

Summary: In a tense political setting, a Targaryen bastard working as a prostitute is summoned by Prince Aemond to the Red Keep. Aemond wants her to approach his dragon, Vhagar, as a test of her worth. Although he plans for her to claim another dragon in the future, her immediate challenge is to survive Prince Aemond demands while trying to stay alive.

Author’s Note: This work is set in the world created by George R.R. Martin, as depicted in his book Fire & Blood, and none of the characters belong to me. The story will follow some events from the series House of the Dragon (2022), but with changes to fit the fanfiction narrative. Therefore, it will not adhere strictly to the series' storyline. This fanfiction is a work of fiction and may contain inappropriate language, adult content, and violence. Readers be warned. I hope you enjoy the story and interact with it. I apologize if there are any errors in the High Valyrian sections; I used a translator and am unsure of its accuracy. Thank you and happy reading.

ONE THREE (+18)

TWO

Your wrists ache as you struggle to undo the knot Prince Aemond used to bind you to him. The damned knot is expertly tied, making it a challenge to free yourself without drawing his attention. The prince remains intensely focused on the path ahead. If only you could reach the likely Valyrian dagger at his waist, you might be able to use it to cut yourself free.

“If that naive little mind of yours is considering anything more creative than the foolishness you've been trying the entire way to free yourself from the rope binding your wrists, having your hands tied to me will be the least of your worries." The Prince’s voice, resonating close to your ear as he leans down slightly toward you, sends a shiver through your body.

"Tying me up won’t gain you any advantage. Do you plan to keep me bound to you when you’re forcing me to mount a dragon and fight by your side, all to secure your brother’s claim to the throne?" Your frustration over the pain in your wrists spills out before you can restrain yourself, the words slipping from your lips as if you weren’t speaking to a prince who could dispose of you as easily as he mounts a dragon.

"Understand this, gundjabo, you clearly have no idea what my plans are. The fact remains, I do not trust you. And I suggest that when you address me, you do so properly. I am the Prince of the Seven Kingdoms, not your client." Prince Aemond's tone is formal, yet there's a clear undercurrent of irritation. He continues guiding the horse while your hands grasp tightly onto the rope, as holding onto his waist is not a viable option.

"I apologize for my impertinence, Ñuha Dārilaros. I will cease to trouble Your Highness with my ignorance," you reply, your tone dripping with cynicism. Prince Aemond lets out a low hum, as if murmuring "hm…" in response to your insincere apology. However, he appears to ignore your sarcasm, redirecting his attention to the path ahead. As you travel along the rarely used path, the journey is proving difficult. Your discomfort grows as the hours pass, and you’re painfully aware that your strength is waning. The thought of wrapping your arms around Prince Aemond for support crosses your mind, but you hesitate, knowing that he might push you off the horse or, worse, take pleasure in dragging you along the ground. The tension between you and Aemond remains palpable, adding to the strain of the journey.

"A servant who does not make her company pleasant must definitely be a useless servant. I wondered why I had never seen you in the brothel before, but now I have my answer." Prince Aemond says after a while, as if wanting to provoke you. You sigh, looking at the landscape, thinking about how to respond to his provocation.

"In reality, Ñuha DāRilaros, a good servant ensures that the finest clients desire her exclusively. If you never crossed paths with me at the brothel, it's because until I was taken by your guards, I was quite useful to someone." Your tone carries a hint of mystery, suggesting that someone more important than Prince Aemond Targaryen once valued your service.

"Vaogenka ābra. I could tear out your tongue for what you just said. But since you seem to enjoy deluding yourself with lies, do tell me—who could possibly stand above Prince Aemond Targaryen?" Despite the clear irritation in his voice, you can’t resist the urge to smile. Normally, you'd tread carefully to avoid bruising the ego of a one-eyed, arrogant prince, but considering he likely wouldn't kill you before feeding you to some random dragon, you allow yourself a small victory. Prince Aemond turns slowly, fixing his one-eyed gaze on you. You hesitate to speak further, realizing you may have gone too far. Instead, you direct your attention to the horizon, where you spot three men dressed in ragged clothes, their smiles malevolent.

"Unbind me, Your Grace," you say as the men draw closer. It's clear they intend to exploit the situation, and if Prince Aemond reacts poorly, it could mean the end for both of you.

"Pāsagon nyke, gundjabo."Prince Aemond murmurs forcefully as he dismounts from the horse. His confidence is unsettling, filling you with concern. If these men realize that Prince Aemond is heading towards Dragonstone while a war looms, it could spell disaster. You cannot let that happen.

"Who are you?" the men speak almost in unison, two of them eyeing you with a disturbing eagerness, likely lusting for a quick conquest. The third man, however, has his gaze locked on Aemond, suspicion growing in his eyes as he begins to piece together who stands before him. The rope binding your wrists bites painfully into your skin, worsening as it is pulled tighter while Aemond remains beside the horse. The tension in the air thickens, and you realize that it won't be long before they recognize his Highness.

"This good man is taking me to Queen Rhaenyra," you quickly interject, cutting off any chance for Prince Aemond to speak. "She’s been seeking bastards to try and claim dragons." You can tell that Aemond is deliberately keeping his hood low, trying to avoid recognition. You keep your hands as still as possible, careful not to reveal the rope that binds you to him. The tension between you and the prince is palpable, but you know that you need to maintain the ruse for both your sakes.

"Do you let a whore speak for you? Not man enough to explain yourself?" the most observant of the men sneers as he steps closer to Prince Aemond, his tone laced with contempt. The other two men begin to circle you and the horse, their intentions clear in their predatory gazes. You feel the tension in the air thickening, the situation teetering on a dangerous edge.

"I'll show you what kind of man I am," Prince Aemond declares, his voice cold and commanding. With a swift motion, he removes his hood, revealing his striking features and the unmistakable silver hair which falls perfectly into place despite the hood. The sight alone causes the men to falter, recognizing the power and danger they now face. Aemond then draws a beautiful, ornately crafted dagger from the sleeve of his cloak, its blade gleaming menacingly in the dim light. Aemond attacks the man in front of him, plunging the dagger into the man's eye. Prince Aemond pulls his dagger from the man's eye. The man screams in pain, as blood from his eye gushes onto the ground. Then the man falls in front of Aemond who wastes no time, leans over the man and he thrusts the dagger back into the man on the ground, stabbing him in the brain. Prince Aemond is swiftly kicked by one of the men standing near you. It happens so quickly that you only realize it when the rope pulls you down. The third man tries to grab you from the ground, but you swing your bound hands toward his face. A light laugh escapes you as you see blood starting to drip from his face.

You try to get up, but the rope holds you back, fueling your hatred for the One-Eyed Prince who tied you to him. The man, enraged, storms toward you, shouting slurs and threats like "Whore" and "You'll pay for this." Desperately, you crawl as quickly as you can toward Aemond, who appears to be gaining the upper hand against the second man, though the horse obstructs your view.

"Open your eyes, gundjabo. You do not have my permission to die. Ao issi ñuhon, and everything that belongs to me must not be touched by others," Prince Aemond murmurs as he approaches you. The body of the third man lies on the ground, Aemond's dagger embedded in his face. You remain stunned, standing near the horse, as Aemond's single eye fixes on you. It's as if you lack the strength to respond.

"He… he…" you murmur with a trembling voice, weak and looking down. Your hands ache, and your gaze is lowered. Then you feel Aemond’s cold hands touch your face, lifting it up to meet his gaze. His eyes lock onto yours as if he’s trying to analyze your soul, and you look back at him, perhaps in your most vulnerable state.

"He met the end he deserved for attempting to harm what belongs to me. I consider myself merciful in this regard. You are permitted to die only by my hand or by dragonfire. Remember that." Prince Aemond says, wiping a bit of the blood from the man’s face away from yours. The proximity between you is such that you can feel his warm breath against your face. He smells of blood and wine. There is something so primal in his gaze that makes you almost want to taste his lips. Yet, all you do is nod in understanding of what the one-eyed prince has just conveyed.

"I understand, Your Highness. I will only die by your hand or by dragonfire," you say, meeting Aemond's gaze. He gives a half-smile, then crouches to retrieve the bloodied dagger from the body of the third man. Rising, he firmly holds your hands and cuts the rope, freeing you.

[kimvante2013]

『𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐬』 변우석

summary: The feelings between you and your best friend are far from over.

Genre: best friends to lovers,little bit of angst,Byeon Woo Seok x fem!reader,drabble

author notes: After months I came back, today I bring you a drabble about the love of my life, also because I saw "Lovely runner" and I liked it a lot so I got a little inspiration from there, well I hope you enjoy this and later I will bring more about Sun Jae and Woo seok since I don't see many people writing about them, take care and good night :)

Word count: 1089k

The soft ping of my phone broke the quiet hum of my apartment. A message from Woo-seok.

“Hey y/n, do you want to come to my house later? I need to write some lines for my new drama, “Lovely Runner”. You know, the usual, being my personal script coach and all that stuff.”

I smiled, imagining Woo-seok's signature goofy smile. It was almost endearing how he never seemed to take his acting career seriously, even though he was on the verge of becoming a major star. He was still the same goofy, clumsy boy he'd known in high school, the one who always made me laugh.

“Sure, I'll be there in an hour. "What time are you free?" I replied and let the tea sit while he prepared it for me.

An hour later, I found myself outside Woo-seok's elegant apartment building, the imposing structure a stark contrast to the cozy, modest apartment we used to share as roommates in college.

He greeted me with a wide, welcoming smile and a playful push, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the hallway. "You're late," he teased, pushing me inside.

"Traffic," I lied, my cheeks heating up under his gaze. Despite knowing him for years, my heart still pounded when he looked at me like that. He always had this way of making me feel seen, like I was the only person in the room.

His apartment was a testament to his success, modern and elegant, with a wide view of the city skyline. But I still felt at home, filled with the familiar warmth of his presence.

"Let's go to my room," he said, leading me to a well-lit space filled with scripts, props, and a comfortable chair.

"Okay, so this scene is where I first meet my love interest, played by the beautiful, talented, and incredibly charming Ryu Sun-jae," Woo-seok began, his voice dropping to a playful whisper.

I couldn't help but laugh. He was very dramatic, even when he talked about his own work. But his enthusiasm was infectious and I found myself immersed in the story. He ran through the lines, his voice shifting seamlessly between playful banter and sincere emotion.

He was good, really good. He poured his heart and soul into every word, into every gesture, making me forget that he was just watching a friend rehearse.

And this is where I'm supposed to make a grand entrance, you know, like a knight in shining armor. "But I think he's too exaggerated," he muttered, pulling a crumpled script from the table.

"No, I think he's perfect," I said, surprised by my own conviction. "He is your character, it is what makes him unique."

Woo-seok looked at me with a flash of surprise in his eyes. 'Actually? So you think?

"Yes," I nodded, trying to ignore the way his gaze lingered on me. There was an unspoken connection between us, a bond forged over years of shared laughter, dreams, and late-night chats.

'What do you think he should do here?' He asked, pointing to a particularly difficult line.

'Hmm, maybe try it with a little more vulnerability?' I suggested, my voice softening as I realized how closely I was studying his face.

He nodded, frowning in concentration. He walked the line again, this time with a raw emotion that resonated deeply within me.

"Wow," I sighed, genuinely impressed. 'That's perfect. You captured the uncertainty, the fear, the longing for acceptance. It is brilliant.'

Woo-seok's smile was brighter than the city lights outside. 'You're the best, Y/n. You always know how to make me feel better about my work.

We continued rehearsing until the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the room. As we worked, it felt like we were falling back into the comfortable rhythm of our old college days, time blurring into a cozy, shared memory.

"I think I'm a little hungry," Woo-seok said, breaking the silence. 'How about we order some food?'

"Sounds good to me," I agreed, feeling a warmth spread through me.

While we waited for our food, we sat on the floor and flipped through old photo albums. Laughter filled the room as we recalled silly moments from our past, each image a window into our shared history.

The delivery boy arrived, bringing with him the aroma of spicy noodles and sizzling dumplings. We ate in comfortable silence, enjoying the food and the company.

Later, while we were cleaning, Woo-seok turned to me and his eyes met mine. 'You know, Y/n, I'm so lucky to have you in my life. You have always been there for me, through thick and thin.

I smiled, my heart swelled with warmth. 'Me too, Woo-seok. You are my best friend and I will always be there for you.

He reached out and took my hand, his touch sending a shiver down my spine. "I know," he said, his voice low and sincere. "And I'm grateful for that."

For a moment, we stood there, hands clasped and the silence filled with unexpressed emotions. The city outside glowed like a distant dream, but all he could see was Woo-seok, his eyes containing a depth that he knew he couldn't ignore forever.

“I should probably head home,” I finally said, my voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded and his gaze stopped on my face. "Yeah, I guess you should."

I pulled away, my heart aching with a mix of longing and apprehension.

"I'll see you around, Woo-seok," I said, forcing a smile.

"Yes, definitely," he replied, his voice laced with a hint of disappointment.

When I left his apartment, I couldn't shake the feeling that something had changed between us. The line between friendship and something more had blurred, and I wasn't sure I was ready to cross it.

I had always valued our friendship and the thought of risking it for something uncertain made me sick to my stomach. But the warmth of his touch, the intensity of his gaze, and the way he made me feel so seen had awakened a longing inside me that I couldn't ignore.

The lights of the city blur as I walked, my mind replaying the events of the night. I knew I needed time to process everything, to discover my feelings. But one thing was certain: the bond between Woo-seok and I was deeper than simple friendship, and I knew, with a certainty that made my heart ache, that our story was far from over.

[helslastangel]

Moon Conjunct Venus + Moon Trine Ascendant Synastry Based on My Personal Experiences 🔞

This may not resonate for everyone, so if it doesn't hit, please let it miss. There are 18+ topics included this so minors, do not interact. 🔞

Their Moon conjunct your Venus

This aspect is wonderful if you're both feeling each other. They can and will read you like a book without even needing to turn the first page. If you've ever seen or been in one of those couples where the one person knew exactly what the other one wanted or needed, without ever discussing it, even once? Yeah, those are the vibes here. You will be loved exactly the way you want to be loved and if things don't work out, there is a good chance the breakup could leave you feeling destroyed for quite some time, even if you were never in a relationship.

This aspect can make it very difficult to be "just friends" with if either person wants more from the connection, but even platonic friends with this synastry aspect will be the kind of friend that you give the spare keys to, can call at 4 in the morning whether for an emergency or just to sob about something stupid, and who you allow to come over without calling first-in fact you welcome it and aren't surprised to come home and find them asleep on the couch or something like that. Like this is the friend that you're more like family with, if you're not in a romantic connection.

If you ever get in a mood and start talking about "everyone this" and "people always/never that," they aren't offended because it doesn't even cross their mind to think they're included in that pile. There is no guarantee that things will always be perfect or work out with this placement, obviously it depends on factors in the whole chart and other things like time, place, circumstance, and so on. And of course, anyone who can read you accurately has the ability to use that to manipulate and harm rather than help and support you, but that's a risk of life in general. All I'm saying is: with this aspect, when it's good, it's DAMN GOOD.

To give you an example, I had this synastry with a Scorpio moon several years ago (I'm a Scorpio Venus). We met at an event and hit it off so well that we were talking outside the venue for nearly 4 hours, annoying his friends and mine. Ended up bringing him home with me and I fully expected him to disappear into a cloud of dust the next day, but he didn't. We didn't end up working out beyond friends with benefits, but he's NEVER been rude or unkind to me once. Extremely patient, always calm no matter what and very sweet to me whenever we run into each other somewhere in the city every couple of years.

The way he handled me emotionally was just beautiful, I can't think of another way to put it. Most of my friends at the time would ignore anything I did creatively - not him, he found one of my books and posted it on his story with a cute caption saying how much he loved intelligence and that he was proud of me. The type to show up in the rain and keep me company when I was sick (back when I lived alone), even though he had class, work and practice all that day. The first time we hooked up, I was getting my laundry together and wondering why he hadn't left yet. He picked up the bags talking about, "Nah I got 'em, lead the way to the laundromat, why would I leave you to do this by yourself."

TMI / TW (mentions of sexual activities, body fluids, menstruation/periods) so again, minors, get out of here and the rest of you proceed with caution or skip to the next paragraph.

He was very much empathetic and also body positive-absolutely nothing seemed to gross him out. I have so many examples, but let's go with something both extreme and spicy. I was bundled up, laying on his shoulder and trying to deal with menstrual cramps while we were watching a show and him going, "Oh you know I read somewhere that orgasms can ease those, may I?" I'm there like, may you what? sure?? I'm curious?? Next thing I know, he's got a towel down, yeets the tampon and dives in head first talking about "a period ain't stop nothing but a sentence." And, well? All I'll say is.. at least ONE man knows where the clit is! ibuprofen, who? where? 😂😈

Obviously that's a bit much if you're a vanilla type (but a Scorpio moon + Scorpio venus? baby we was freaks, what can I say? lmfao) but this is just an example I mention because the important part is not once did he bring up getting off himself. No hinting for a quickie or a BJ like you might expect. I even offered because I was used to guys doing seemingly selfless gestures only to be guilt-tripped shortly after, and he was just like, "Sorry, what? No, you're not feeling well, I wanted you to feel better, plus I don't need to get off all the time, I read it's healthy to ignore the urges sometimes." (Idk if you could tell, but he REALLY likes to read, loll).

That's what I'm talking about with the Moon-Venus conjunction. This kind of synastry will vary in the specific ways it's expressed of course, but all other things being equal, someone with their moon conjunct your venus will intuitively know what you want and need to feel loved, and it works because it blends very well with their own emotional needs. If the moon person tells you they enjoy doing something for you or with you without expecting anything in return, believe it. It sounds like a lie because of the types of people who would lie about that, but with this aspect, chances are they meant that shit.

Not only that, but you'll feel like you've known them for a long time. That's because you'll also understand their emotional expression on an intuitive level. This isn't as one-way as it could sound. Oh, no, not at all. You will feel like you've met before and find yourself making time and space, and finding energy for them even out of thin air. You could live in a tiny studio that you'd never share with anyone and then find yourself cleaning out your closet on a Sunday afternoon to "make a little space" for their extra work uniform or even as tiny as keeping an extra toothbrush, clearing a hook in the bathroom, keeping their favorite snacks in the fridge, stuff like that. You'll generally feel at home with each other and trust can build VERY quickly. Others could even wonder if you're okay, especially if you're normally a paranoid person.

With Scorpio moon guy, he accidentally left his wallet the first time he left my place and I called him when I found it. His response was "Oh I left it at yours? Oh good, that's okay then, I'll come get it at some point this week, let me know what days you'll be home". He knew me for less than 24 hours at the time, lol. 3 months later he had the door code to my place and there were two toothbrushes and two towels instead of one LOL, trust was never an issue and it certainly wasn't the reason we didn't work out either! We basically just couldn't really keep pace with each other because... we had a 6 year age gap. Completely different life stages. I have a feeling if we both were a lot older, it would have worked out. Literally nothing else was wrong with us.

Now, that was with me being the Venus (and Ascendant-see below) person. I'll be honest, as a Capricorn moon, I'm curious about how it would be if I meet a Capricorn venus romantically. I wonder how that would play out all the time, and I think I'll let that remain a mystery until it happens, then I'll hopefully still be blogging then and come back and tell yall about that too. THAT BEING SAID... I do have this aspect (as the moon person this time) with a platonic Capricorn venus friend I had for nearly 13 years. We would literally be in each other's houses (and hair and business lol) all the time. We had yearly festivals we always went to together, talked almost everyday, knew how each other was feeling before the other one would even say anything. Mopped each other up off the floor when going through shit. She punched a guy I was dating who cheated on me, and I introduced her to a mutual friend who I thought she might like to date, and then cussed the hell out of him when he didn't pull his weight like I thought he would. Things like that.

The friendship ended nearly 7 years ago but I miss her every day. I remember what happened, but in hindsight, it seems so foolish now and I miss her every single day. We would have been friends for 20 years by now and I don't have a lot of regrets in life, but that is one of them. She hurt me but I handled it so poorly both before and after she reached out to talk that it just destroyed the entire foundation of our friendship. I haven't even tried to get over it because I don't want to. To me, that would be just disrespectful, I feel like it's something I need to carry with me as a reminder to do better next time. I'm sure you see by now that this is a quite an intense and dynamic placement!

Bonus Observation:

Moon Trine Ascendant Synastry

If someone with their moon conjunct your venus ALSO has their moon trine your ascendant, WHEW that is hot. Not only will the emotional connection be strong, but they will find everything about you on the outside just as enticing as the inside.

They genuinely enjoy the way you express yourself and can have a lot of patience for any shenanigans you might get up to. These people will watch you from across a crowded room all evening and suddenly appear by your side just before you leave to tell you they think you're attractive and want to get to know the rest of you beneath the surface. And it's rarely ever creepy. They'll know just how to approach you. I've had this synastry aspect a few times and it's always been like that. Genuinely charming. Perfect rizz.

This kind of synastry, as I said earlier, will leave you in absolute shambles if things don't work out, especially if you don't encounter this synastry often in your connections. Personally, I'd consider this one of those aspects where one or both of you can feel like the other was a soulmate, or "the one that got away," and end up being celibate or single (if romantic), or becoming asocial (if platonic) for a long time after splitting up. That or cycling through a series of awful relationship and friendship rebounds in an attempt to find them in another person.

Not too much on me for this, but there's a country song by Colt Fold that I'd loved for half a decade now called 4 Lane Gone. I'm sure there are other songs out there that would capture this better, but this is the one that stuck with me.

Something about the way this artist captures the feeling. Wistful, you can tell dude is acting strong, but knows damn well a good thing just got royally fucked up. Maybe I'm just melodramatic (I'm water dominant after all), but have a listen and see if you get what I'm talking about.

Idk. From my experiences with these aspects (been lucky enough to experience it with more than one person), I'd say it gives a pretty good idea of how either side could feel when it ends. Probably more so the Moon person, though, as they're likely to react like this to either a) being the one to end the relationship prematurely and regret it, or b) being blindsided by the Venus/Ascendant person up and leaving, and taking so long to process and recover from the shock, that by the time they chase after them...they're...well...four lanes gone. Lol.

Lyrics

[Verse 1]

Been raining for three days

On the fast track to the highway

Trying to save a little time

Lord I never should have tried

Taking this back road shortcut

Now I’m way stuck, so sunk

I’ll never catch her now

So I just put the tailgate down

She’s probably somewhere doing 95

I got nothing but this cooler and time

[Chorus]

I cracked one waiting on a ride

Two or three just to pass the time

While she’s headed to a new town

And I’m too lost to be found

She probably thinks that I don’t care

Stuck in the rut in the middle of nowhere

And just my luck I’ll be here all night long

Man, I’m bummed out back road buzzed

And she’s four lane gone

Yeah she’s four lane gone

[Verse 2]

Every empty beer can makes me

Miss her like hell, man I can kick myself

For the place and the shape I’m in holding me back

Yeah my wheels keep on spinning

And she’s ticked off blacktop fast

[Chorus] x 1

[Bridge]

While I’m stuck here all alone

With a midnight natty light

One more chance I’ve blown

[Chorus] x 1

[Outro]

I’m out here all alone

Yeah she’s four lane gone

She’s four lane, four lane gone

Yeah she’s four lane gone

She’s four lane gone

[scificrows]

i like to make fun of murderbot for being all "i hate everyone, i don't care about anything or anyone, fuck off" while simultaneously caring very much about the people around it and the situations it finds itself in. i love how it "accidentally" ends up caring quite a lot about the friends it makes along the way. but i think something that i tend to forget is that murderbot actively decides to care - at least at some point in its story.

idk, as a person that struggles with depression, this paragraph from artificial condition really resonates with me. prior to all systems red, murderbot had contracts. it had routine and it had protocols. it knew what it had to do to just get by, how to perform so no one would notice it had disabled its governor module. it was deeply depressed, yes, but it was functioning (for lack of a better word). in artificial condition, murderbot's routine is gone. it cannot go on in that state of numbly going-from-contract-to-contract, putting in as little effort as possible, consuming media to cope. that option is gone because it escaped (and note that escaping the company was not an active choice, it kinda happened to it). murderbot has two options now: it can either gather all its energy; actively do something new and difficult and distressing; change something in its life and try. or it can let the numbness and the emptiness take over and stop trying. if murderbot wants to survive as a rogue secunit, it has to try. no matter how difficult that is. the wording in that paragraph really hits home for me. the way the non-caring sees an opportunity to slip in and to take over. does murderbot even care? does anything really matter? is anything really worth the hassle? wouldn't it be so much easier to just let your mind slip away a little, to go numb, to be passive, to watch media and wait for things to happen to you? wouldn't it be nice to stop thinking and struggling and feeling complicated things? to stop making an effort? you've been dealing with a lot lately and maybe it's time to just shut down. maybe you'll just take a little break. just slip deeper into this chair and start the show. time flies when you're not paying attention. trying is exhausting. who cares if you don't do the things you wanted to do, you were supposed to do. it'll be fine. let's just ignore those things for now. just let the non-caring take over. just stop thinking. you can deal with the aftermath later. just watch your shows. who cares. but murderbot cares. it decides to care. it decides to fight with all it has and i think that is so brave. and i think in the later books caring is less of an active decision for murderbot. once you start caring, it's easier to keep going than to stop; and murderbot, for all its "i'm a grumpy rogue secunit, leave me alone" behavior, knows just how important caring is. so it's not that it doesn't know what's happening; rather, it lets itself care. tl;dr: caring is not the default for murderbot, it's just the more difficult of two options. and it decides not to take the soft option. it decides to struggle. it decides to care. and so it does.

[simplymarr]

Chapter three.

warnings: none. just some angst at the end.

Since that very first day, everything just flowed naturally.

I saw Vincent two days a week for weekly classes; tuesdays and thursdays. Two-hour classes in which it felt like a convesation between the two of us. He seemed excited about my enthusiasm and i was astonished about his intelligence. The way he carried himself, the ideas and visions he had just resonated with me.

Then after class and almost religiously, he waited for me inside his car with a cigarette on his mouth and drove me to the bus stop. We never spoke explicitly about this agreement, nor we questioned it. It just felt natural, like gasping for air or falling in love.

We both knew these rides were just an excuse to keep talking about everything we couldn't inside the classroom. Not only about my thesis and his corrections, but book recommendations, law philosophy, even music and art.

And we laughed. We laughed a lot.

"So, is it really as difficult as it seems?" I asked, gasping for air between laughs and taking more of a serene tone.

He turned his head and looked at me. Both hands on the steering wheel.

"What do you mean?"

"You know, being a lawyer. How do you know you're doing the right thing? That you're not fucking it all up?"

The question lingered in the air for a moment. Perhaps it wasn't just about being a lawyer.

He took a breath before answering.

"Well, that's the thing, non? you never know." He said. His gaze meeting the pavement in front of him as he drove. "Like all aspects of life, sometimes you need to guess". This last line pronounced as he looked at me softly, like someone who's hiding a secret.

Silence between the both of us until he broke it again.

"Well, of course it gets easier once your fucking thesis is done" He joked to lighten up the mood and we laughed once again.

The bus stop made it's presence again, and each time we arrived i still felt like it wasn't supposed to be there that quickly.

I looked at him with a strange nostalgia; like something else was supposed to happen, like i wanted him to give me an answer to a question i hadn't yet made.

I smiled at him weakly and he reciprocated, but his smile was filled with kindness, with mercy. His blue eyes pierced into mine for what i thought it was an eternity, but it didn't felt awkward at all. It seemed like he, also, didn't want me to leave the car.

Suddenly a loud horn from the street broke the tension and he quickly lowered his gaze. I stepped out of the car and waved at him as he looked at me through the window.

"Goodbye, y/n".

"Au revoir, Vincent".

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

From there, that one final interaction, the river that made our chemistry started to get motionless. My innocent question became something darker, premonitory.

As the next week arrived and found me, once again, in the classroom i noticed something strange in Vincent. Although i was standing quite far away from him it was the first time he didn't look at me, not even once. Maybe an occasional glance that he amended by looking away almost instantly, like he was just trying to make sure i was still there.

His hands moved with more fervor than usual, his tone quite hessitant. He asked a question and, as usually, i raised my hand, trying to ignore the now awkward tension between us. He looked at me quickly but then pointed at someone else to answer.

Strange, i thought to myself. I mean, it was okay. After all there was a room full of people, i wasn't the only one, wasn't i? Besides, we could discuss everything we wanted later in the car. I didn't have to worry about anything.

The class ended a couple of minutes earlier. I waited until everyone left so i could reach to him. I wanted to ask him a couple of questions about the remarks he emailed me last week, and maybe we could talk. To be honest, perhaps i just wanted to talk to him about anything.

"Vincent, hi. I hope you don't mind me asking about the remarks but-"

He stopped me mid sentence.

"We can discuss about it on Thursday, during class schedule". He said, with a firm voice, almost trying to sound convincing.

"Oh, i'm sorry, i thought there was no problem".

"If you're concerned about something you can email it to me and i will answer you whenever i can". He barely looked at me and tucked a strand of hair behind his ear as he turned away to reach his books.

I hessitated and left in silence. My face pale and a total confusion on my mind.

We still had the car. Right?

The world, as it was used to, once again proved me wrong. When i stepped out of the big, cold building no one was there. Well, at least no one waiting for me. I looked at the empty parking lot where the dark-green chevy was missing, and even if he never agreed explicitly to wait for me, i found myself feeling betrayed.

"Oh, for fucks sake, he's just your professor. Nothing else." I thought to myself, trying to make sense.

The walk home, for the first time in weeks, felt incredibly lonely. I looked at the bus stop from far away and i felt like it was laughing at me.

Head resting in the dirty window and my earphones on, i wondered:

"Was it something i said?"

"Did i just fucked it all up?"

next chapter soon

[thefoxtherapist]

Hello! I hope you are doing well <3

This is a different experience for me as I don’t really request much.. let me know if this is disrespectful or not! but I was hoping to request Jiyan x male/gn reader (i have no preference) angst?

Jiyan has so much angst potential, especially in his story/companion quest! My idea was centered around the reader death (long before this plot) with Jiyan who is still coping about their death. During the retroact rain tacet discords are mimicking their s/o calling out to him like they are still alive. They poke and prod at his vulnerability, with Jiyan having this inner turmoil of how to overcome this.

Thank you for your time! Whether that be indulging in my thoughts or for just reading this request, I appreciate it <3 Take care!

Hi thank you! I'm okay ^^ I hope you are well.

This isn't disrespectful at all don't worry! You did great for a new requester :)

This was quite a sad concept poor Jiyan, giving him hugs.

I hope you still like this even though it doesn't 100% follow the request! Sorry about that, sometimes writing has its own mind without my input..

Jiyan’s grip tightened on his lance after Geshu Lin’s phantom disappeared from sight. No longer haunted by his previous General, he took a deep breath. He turned inwards to the building, he had things to prepare for the coming battle. He had an army to lead and a city to protect. He couldn’t hesitate now.

And yet that was exactly what he did.

Golden eyes moved to the left as he heard a familiar voice. His breath caught in his throat and his heart twisted in an uncomfortable manner. No. He couldn’t listen, he couldn’t falter. Jiyan looked forward, head held high. 

He walked forward, ignoring the voice he sorely missed. 

Every action he took, accompanied by that familiar voice, that missed pitch, the yearning frequency. It was all a trick. Jiyan knew that, he was aware, he wasn’t stupid. Geshu Lin had been difficult to deal with, but he stuck to his knowledge.

But it was different this time, and the General knew that.

You were dead.

Every breath he took was accompanied by the pained beating of his heart. His head swam. Grief. His mother was always so insistent on his grief. That it was something he needed to face, needed to conquer, cope with. But Jiyan always brushed it off. There was no time was his excuse. But he knew better. He knew better, he just cared too much.

He stepped away, finding a barren spot where he could be alone with his thoughts. Jiyan crossed his arms over his chest as he looked out from the small hill he stood on. Clawed fingers of his gauntlet dug into his opposing arm as your voice once more infiltrated his ears, his mind.

The old General wasn’t the only loss three years prior and it was a guilt that Jiyan struggled with. 

Jinzhou was a battlefield.

The Resonator looked up, watching as the rain fell upwards. His face still wet as the rain caressed his skin as it floated upwards above him. He uncrossed his arms, lifting his hand to follow the path of the rain. 

He’d been a medic back then, but your life was not one he could save.

The General’s hand closed in a tight fist, arm dropping back down to his side. Even with the antidote against the rain, he could still hear you calling out to him after all these years. But he was left with a lingering fear that if he turned around he’d be faced with the tacet discords that similarly used Geshu Lin against him.

Geshu Lin had obtained an infamous reputation for his choice to stand strong, blamed for the loss of their soldiers.

And you.

Jiyan’s eyebrows furrowed as he closed his eyes, unable to take the soft whimpers of his name, you hadn’t even cried for help, you simply told him to push on, to leave you behind. Was that how he knew the phantom behind him was nothing more than a mimic? Perhaps. Or your phantom was influenced by his own regret.

Huanglong did not know of the sacrifice you made to send him forward. 

“You’ll come back for me, Jiyan. You always do.”

He turned his head away, chewing the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood on his tongue. No positive outcomes that day could ever wash away the reality of it all. He’d lost a lover, he’d lost a friend. One forgotten, one cast as a villain. 

“Jiyan.. My love? Is it really that bad? Oh don’t look at me like that!”

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“I’ll be okay, really!”

Jiyan opened his eyes.

All he had done was retreat.

[dufferpuffer]

It's really unfortunate that people look at Lycanthropy in Harry Potter and go "It's super yucky the author said she based it on HIV"... ...and then that's the extent they consider it as disability representation: A failure. An insult. The HIV shoe doesn't fit, so it's bad and should be ignored.

A comment from the Author outside of the books has so thoroughly coloured what is seen inside of the books in the dumbest way. When has a fantasy illness EVER worn the shoe of a real disability and had it fit...? Just because authors can be dumb idiot fucks doesn't mean the depth of experience they write doesn't have any merit, consciously or subconsciously - for better or for worse.

It's our job to be smart enough to pick the bones from the blorbo's we are fed - and to be delusional enough to treat them as if they are analogous to real experience, to chew out as much as we can from his narrative. That's the point of fiction. B^)

+ Remus has an invisible disability. (That alone is rare to see) + For multiple days a month he gets visibly unwell - Pale, peaky, weary... he feels off-colour. It heralds his worst symptoms. + Every month he experiences excruciating pain, the humiliation of losing control of his body, the terror of losing grip on his thoughts. Sometimes he self harms in this state. + For multiple days after - he is fatigued. All day laying down. Can't even sit at the table for Christmas lunch or do things he enjoys. + He struggles to keep weight on because of it. Any weight be puts on through the month is lost, leaving him thin and ragged again. ~~~ + The only treatment for his symptoms doesn't help much - and is deeply unpleasant (and a bit degrading) to take. + It's also expensive and difficult to get - he has to see very particular practitioners and jump through hoops to even have a chance for it, in a society that is hostile to his disability. + Even when treated - his condition prevents him from working to a schedule. He needs special facilities and support just to manage. + His poor health may lead him to run late on his work tasks, even when treated and supported adequately. + His disability makes him unemployable. He will not be hired BECAUSE of stigma against his specific condition. + His illness is contagious, which complicates how he lives his life and how he see's himself - as well as how others treat him. + There is rampant misinformation on his condition, probably equal or more than accurate education. Everyone has wrong assumptions and will cling to them tooth and nail.

Like this is is GOOD!!! These symptoms and situations aren't representative of any one disability but I bet most disabled people have at least SOMETHING they will strongly resonate with.

That's not even getting into the fact his mental health is bad BECAUSE of having to live with a disability without support - in rich ways that are allowed to be messy and complicated, that aren't trying to pander to able-bodied people so they don't feel uncomfortable... that don't smooth over the horrors of being unwell and knowing you will never get better and nobody will understand you.

Disability in media most of the time is just "This person lost an arm and the memories make him sad :^( don't worry though his robot arm is better than a normal one :^)" and "I use a wheelchair, and sometimes it can be hard - but all my friends don't mind :^) It rarely ever gets in the way, and when it does, everyone comes together to help me! btw I play a sport" And that's it. Oh sorry I forgot "Blind person but they have super senses"

Those tropes can be done well. But to get anything outside of them is so, SO fucking rare... so it is weird that when Remus has existed for over two decades as a disabled character with depth and nuance... He isn't discussed as he is a poor representation of a single diagnosis.

[totally-not-here-for-the-smut]

Can't stop thinking that after what some of the M6 went through, trauma must have taken his toll on their intimacy. I have some headcanons about how the M6 handle their trauma in smut-fluff situations. Idk, it seems "wrong" to just ignore the fact? We didn't often get the chance to read some trauma-handling that isn't "oooh I couldn't stand the idea of sex but ☆magic love☆ healed me in just one thrust!"

Please note: Not meant to be realistic, let alone feticize it, it's just something that resonates with my idea of them. I'm no professional and didn't experience first hand most of this but if you did and doesn't rub you right please let me know and I'll try to do better.

So here's my headcanons about ~

Handling Trauma

Muriel ♧

Muriel doesn't mind nudity per se. Being shame about it something tied to social modesty, and him being a mountain hermit, it feels kinda natural to him.

But seeing entwined bodies? That's awful for him. The touch, the musle tension, the groping and the expressions, the sight of skin and flesh bending under his hands and a body pressed under him... no.

That's too much, too similar to wrestling for your life. He can't stand it.

... which is very difficult, given that he'd want to hold you tight, drawn his loneliness into your scent and be one with you.

So, you started slowly. Lights off (easy thing in his hut), you touching gently his chest, tracing his features with the lighest strokes.

He touched you as if you were a bubble ready to burst. His caresses were like leaves falling on your naked body, barely heavier than his warm breath on you.

Way later, the two of you discovered that he enjoyed using his lips way more than his hands - that didn't brought anything horrible back to his memory. Your -and his- bodies became maps to be traced with kisses and lingering sighs of desire.

He wanted to see you come, for he needed to see that those body of his was capable of giving pleasure and not just pain. You had to lie still on the furs of his bed, tights spread open to not make him feel chocked between them, your hands in his hair like a breeze.

Coming under his tongue left you shaking, grasping at the furs for comfort. You hurled in a ball, with a racing heart and short breaths that made you look so beautiful in your fragility that he couldn't help to - finally- lay beside you, taking you between his arms.

It's not like that night solved everything, but now the darkness of his hut is heavy with your moans. He still can't bear the sight of your body writhe against his, but now his hands knows all the mountains and valleys of your body, tracing the paths he came to know by heart. Now your curves melts into his, as the patience you took to know each other carved them as water on stone.

Does it work? Idk, I'll keep adding to it if I feel like it does

[sabo-has-my-heart]

I Found You Again

3. Spoiler alert! Chapter 1044/Episode 1071 Spoilers!!!!!!

"Nika!Luffy and fem!reader where reader is the moon goddess. In the legends, the moon goddess and the sun god Nika were lovers that seperated to help humanity. Before Luffy is awakened, he feels a strange bond toward reader and so does she. Reader always loves being by his side, even in battle, which leads to her joing the crew. After the battle with Kaidou, Luffy was seriously injured. However, Luffy's awakening also trigger reader's awakening. Reader turns into goddess form that helps healing Luffy. Seeing reader in that form, Luffy laughs and pulls her in for a kiss, saying that he now knows why he is attracted to her, she was his, all this time. Reader, crying as now finally reunited with him, returns his kiss."

Warnings: Chapter 1044/Episode 1071 Spoilers!!!!

Word Count: 1180

     Nika gave his beloved a smile, though his eyes were brimming with tears. He really didn’t want to separate, much less like this.

     “I love you Nika and I know we’ll find each other again. One as untamable and restless as you? I have no doubt you’ll look for me. Just be careful. The humans are more fragile than we are.” the goddess said, giving her white haired lover a kiss.

     “I love you too G/n, I promise I’ll find you. You’re the only one who I would be willing to be chained by and the one I trust most not to do so. Don’t worry, I’ll be careful. Besides, we’ll be making them strong, then they won’t be as fragile.” Nika gave her his usual sunny smile, followed by his little ‘shishishi’ laugh that always made her smile. She gave him one last kiss, before touching her forehead to his as they disappeared, heading to the earth below.

     He’d always felt close to you, from the moment he saw you, he felt something for you. Granted, he didn’t know what he felt for you, only that it was something. Almost immediately, he’d asked you to join his crew. No reason given, just ‘join my crew!’. The others hadn’t been sure what to make of it. Most of them had joined for a reason, but you weren’t a navigator, a sniper, a first mate, a cook, or a musician. You weren’t an archaeologist, a shipwright, or a doctor. You were a devil fruit user on an island they stopped by. Okay, sure, you wanted to go out to sea, you said you were searching for… something. You’d told them it was a meaning, a purpose to your life, but you still weren’t like the others. Sure, you were strong, and yeah, you could fight, but Luffy hadn’t even known that in the beginning. Just, ‘join my crew’. Of course Luffy loved being around you constantly once you’d joined. Whether it was playing games on the deck, talking about beetles or something one of you found interesting, sitting next to you during meals, or even just laying on the grass together in silence. Where one was, the other could be found. Fights were much the same unless Luffy was fighting a particularly difficult opponent, you were by his side and had each other’s backs. That being said, he always made sure your safety was a priority. Meaning if he thought the fight would be too much for you, he got you out of harm's way.

     Looking up at the top of the skull that made up Onigashima, you couldn’t help the horror that filled you. Luffy… you couldn’t hear him anymore. Couldn’t hear his heart. Tears ran down your cheeks, your beloved was gone. You didn’t even notice the sudden pounding that resonated throughout your body. He couldn’t be gone, yet there was nothing coming from the rooftop. Another pulse ran through your body as your eyes changed color. Even in your pain induced trance, you noticed the strange pulsing that resonated throughout your body. Not that you cared, not until the sound of drums reached your ears. Your hair began to float slightly as it lengthened, turning a silvery white like the moon. The drums seemed to pick up in beat and volume as you smiled. Somehow, he wasn’t dead, ignoring Kaido, you shot up to the roof, your new found powers sending you flying through the air as you smiled, landing beside a rather different Luffy. His hair and clothes were white and though he was still wounded, he smiled at you. Placing a hand on his cheek, you smiled. Your touch was cool but pleasant as his wounds stitched themselves closed, his smile widening. As soon as he was healed enough to move, he was tackling you and pulling you into a kiss.

     “Shishishi, I found you, G/n! Told you I would!” Luffy said with a wide grin, though he wasn’t entirely certain as to what he was saying. Your name was Y/n, not G/n and he’d never promised to find you to the best of his knowledge, but the words left his mouth before he could think about them, not that he would have anyway.

     “I suppose you did. Now if only I could convince you to be careful for once!” you teased, taking his face in your hands. Luffy could only give you his signature little laugh as he smiled at you.

     “I was careful, promise! Besides, you’re here so now I’ll always be okay! You always make me feel better!” he said, pulling you into an embrace. His eyes suddenly widened as he pulled away, remembering what was happening below, “Oh! I forgot about Kaido! Hang on! I need to finish my fight!” he said excitedly, making you laugh.

     “You are absolutely not doing this without me this time!” you said as Luffy reached down to grab Kaido. Though Luffy’s sudden transformation seemed to surprise the others, you found yourself oddly unphased by his new look and abilities as you stayed on the roof with him. You wouldn’t jump in unless he needed it, Nika had never needed your aid before. Your brow furrowed as you shook your head. Luffy, Luffy had never needed your help in a fight before. Where had Nika come from? The ‘fight’ didn’t take long, Luffy easily defeating Kaido before stretching his arms and pulling you close again, giving you that same sunny smile he always gave you.

     The both of you seemed to return to ‘normal’ as you stood atop Onigashima together, though it was clear Luffy was feeling rather drained.

     “Rest, my sunlight. You’d been through a lot tonight. Just as the moon watches over those who slumber away, I’ll watch over you as you sleep.” you said softly, gently lowering him to the ground and lightly forcing his head into your lap. It wasn’t even 5 seconds later that his snores filled the air, letting you watch over and protect him as he rested. Though you’d healed some of his injuries, he would still need a great deal of rest. Picking him up and putting him on your back, you carried him back down to the others, smiling when they gave you odd looks.

     “There’s no way to explain anything without sounding insane, just trust me that Luffy and I are alright and there’s no need for concern. He’ll need a few days of rest though. Awakening a devil fruit like his is… a strain on his body.” you said, as you all headed off of the ‘island’ that now sat not far from the flower capital. Turning your head, you smiled at your sleeping love. You were finally reunited, truly reunited. Though you still didn’t understand why your mind kept calling him Nika or why you felt like you’d just reunited when you’d been fighting your way up to the top together, you could figure it out later, all that mattered right now was that you were together and he was alive.

[preciouslandmermaid]

quiet fury in your head [xi]

Dream of the Endless x AFAB!Reader!Goddess / Sandman Fanfiction

Note: This one took me so long to write and i don't love it LMAO but next chapter is gonna be like pure smut-no-plot so...that'll be fun. The fic only has TWO MORE CHAPTERS until it's complete that's crazy lmao tagging @sapphireonline cuz they asked so nicely to be tagged :). Also, my fics on ao3 are for registered users only due to AI scraping.

No use of Y/N. See part 1 for all the tags tbh.

Warnings: none

Rating: 18+

(Read on AO3)    ||   (masterpost for other chapters)  

While standing on the shining, white salt flats, The Gates of Horn and Ivory open for you and the Dreaming cautiously welcomes you.

It’s emptier than you recalled (or perhaps the Dreaming creatures are hiding from you). You allow yourself the pleasure of viewing the Dreaming for the first time without anxiety and without fear. You glide your fingertips across a cobblestone bridge, and the clear, inviting bubbling brook beneath reflects an uneasy, shifting portrait of heartbreak and exhaustion. It takes a moment to realize the reflection is your own. You push away from the bridge, dusting residue from your palms, and trek deeper into the Dreaming.

A swarm of blue, shimmering butterflies fly past – their wings glow beneath rays of sunlight and faint glimmers of light trail in their wake. You lift your hands in greeting, hopeful that one might land upon your palm, but they merely dance through your fingertips with glittery wings before vanishing into the air. These creations radiated with such gentleness and care.

Morpheus’ absence is a thorn beneath your nail. You wrestle your difficult emotions into subservient silence. Your desire for him will achieve nothing and accomplish nothing. The prideful King has made his choice. He chose a glass orb prison in an amateur’s basement rather than to be with you and fulfill a centuries-old promise to reunite.

The landscape deepens to rich burgundy, dusky tan, and blooms beneath effervescent golden sunlight. The dry, warm air fills your nostrils and lungs. You stand on a plateau of flat, crimson rock. The sun remains in a perpetual state of dusk, painting the sky periwinkle, and pink, and streaking claws of orange. You crouch and lift fine, rusted sand and gravel into your palm. You hold it for a moment, sensing its warmth, feeling the essence of Dream’s magic before releasing it, and watching it swirl and twist on the wind.

A creature approaches you, timidly, and is burdened by a shell on its back—its face is weathered and gray. The skin around its neck is saggy and loose. A lantern swings on the tall, oak-sculpted stick it carries. It stands a few feet shorter than you, squat and bipedal, and watches you with beady and cautious eyes.

It bows its bald, speckled head. “I remember you,” it says in low, resonate timbre. “The Dreaming whispers your name, Lady Morrigan.” It speaks slowly with small ‘hmms’ between each word.

You think of the Corinthian. Do all the creatures assume you abandoned them? Is this creature yours? Did you create him? You hold no memories of creating anything inside the Dreaming. You only manipulated what already existed. Yet, you cannot ignore the fact that you may have forgotten something. Anything is possible in the life of a reborn God.

“Do they know I died?” You ask, “that I was unmade in the minds of Men? That I was forgotten? Erased?” You can’t help but spit that final word with contemptuous venom. The graciousness of forgiveness is a difficult lesson to learn.

The lantern swings when it starts to walk again. “The minds of Men may have forgotten. We did not.”

“Do you expect my gratitude?” you ask dryly.

Are you supposed to give this tortoise-creature a boon? That is what your devotees of old wanted. They had chanted, and sacrificed, and called you into their battlefields or into their beds. They begged for your blessing on all fours and you were fickle; You would kiss the brows of beloved warriors, or bite their hearts with a freezing, cold grip.

But you are no longer Nemain of the Sisters Three. You are simply The Morrigan, Queen of Nightmares, a forgotten monarch in the realm of Dreams. Your purpose slowly manifests before you. You promised Dream that you would return. If only he wasn’t so unreasonably stubborn, then he would’ve been next to you, with Roderick’s bones ground to dust beneath your heel. You desire for vengeance seizes like a vice around your throat. Roderick ought to be dead. The roots of his family tree torn asunder and fed to his funeral pyre.

The creature finally deigned to respond, “I expect nothing, my lady.”

Its black tongue licks its’ wrinkled, dry beak. You sense its’ desire to leave. The Dreaming flutters with this knowledge and cajoles you into trying to get it to stay. You fold your arms across your chest. It moves at a glacial pace, its’ lantern swinging, its’ clawed feet kicking up small plumes of reddish dust.

You say, “It will take you decades to reach where you’re going.”

“It is not about where I will be,” It says, “it is about the going.”

You shrug and allow the creature be.

*

You cannot effect anything within the Dreaming. Those powers remain locked inside a small ring that Dream used to wear on his pinkie finger. Aimless, you walk through the Dreaming, and you talk to Her inhabitants and in the words of a strange tortoise—you focus on ‘the going’, rather than the destination.

The castle doors groan when they open. From the outside, it seems as if nothing had changed, but the interior plumes with dusty motes and freckles of ancient, unraveling magic. Your fingertips trail against the dusty banister as you move through the arched hallways with new eyes and a wounded heart.

You don’t know this castle well. You never traversed it when you were confined to the Dreaming. Except for one place, of course. A place where an old friend might be found.

The scent of paper and leather fills your nostrils and Lucienne steps from the aisle of books as if she was expecting you.

“Lady,” she bows her head as she says it.

“Lucienne.” Her name is a feathery sigh from your throat. The sudden warmth that spreads through your chest is unexpected, but not unwelcome. Lucienne’s face hasn’t changed. Her inquisitive eyes peer at you from behind her rounded spectacles. Her full cheeks round when she smiles.

“I cannot express how good it is to see you,” she says, a book clutched to her chest. “The shelves knew of your return before I did.” She looks up, her expression icing into fraught sadness streaked with regret. The spine of a book trembles, like a frightened creature, before drops from the shelve and falls open to reveal its blank pages. Are all the stories gone?

“They are not all empty,” Lucienne says, as if reading your mind, and offers the book she’s holding to you. You read the etched, golden title. The Adventures Of...it reads before fading away onto the stiff leather. You flip through and discover an irregular layout of full chapters combined with blank sheets.

You ask, “What else remains?”

“Your room,” she says, returning the book to her hands and wearing it like a shield before her heart. “I did not go within, of course,” she adds quickly, “but I know it’s there.”

You knew it too. You lick your lips and silently leave the room without farewell. Lucienne doesn’t call after you, nor does she ask the questions you can see written across her face. There will be a time for questions later. Right now, you need to explore and confirm this reality – this land of broken Dreaming. A palace without a monarch. A graveyard without a keeper. A home without a hearth. The doorknob turns beneath your palm, welcoming you, as so many small pieces of the Dreaming tend to do.

A room you never slept in—except for when you were poisoned. A closet with clothes you never wore—except for your single black cloak. You step into the closet and quietly admire the craftsmanship of Dream’s meticulous touch. Your fingertips glide through gauzy starlight, twinkling in your palm. You lift your nose to floral fabrics and your stomach swoops at the scent of full spring dancing through your nostrils—lush, bright meadows, humming bumblebees, and the tickle of pollen at the back of your throat. The burning cold of frost, the viscous-ember of magma, the angry swell of a blue-gray sea; all of it is contained within your wardrobe.

Your jaw clenches. How can someone capable of such careful beauty be so stubborn and illogical? Why can’t he see that his realm need him? That his selfishness is causing harm? You clench your hand around fabric that is storm-cloud and heat-lightning.

A name drops into your mind. A name you had accidentally forgotten. You sweep yourself into the dress in swirls of gray-and-white color before you vanish from the Dreaming in a thunderclap.

*

Your toes sink into the damp, cold sand and the rainwater prickles onto your skin. The air hums with the brewing storm. Something in your veins – something powerful – ricochets down your spine.

“Dima!” you shout into the roiling, dark clouds above the ocean. “Morrigan, Goddess of Nightmares, calls upon you.”

The lightning flashes and strikes, erupting a piece of earth beside you, and sending hardened diamonds into the air as the budding rain commits to a roaring deluge. Dima is crouched in a three-point landing, her head bowed, kneeling and reverent at your feet. Your heart burns with joy.

“Rise,” you say while opening your palm to her. “I would meet your eyes as a friend.”

Her hand slides into yours and you meet her white-eyes with a smile aching your cheeks.

“You changed your name,” she says. You cannot tell if the water down her face is from the rain or her tears. In the end, it does not matter. You are happy to see her. She came when you called. She remembered you. That is all that matters.

“You remember me.”

“I am not as fickle as mortals.” Dima sniffs. “The sky, the stones, the water, and trees…” She gestures with both arms to the world. “We don’t forget.”

You say, “Neither do Endless.” It wasn’t only Dream’s devotion that re-made you and brought you back into the world as a Goddess. Dima, too, played her part in your revival. An Endless and the personification of Storms believe in a Goddess. What an odd following you have claimed. Dima looks away when you mention Morpheus.

“He lifted your banishment,” you whisper, and your words are clear despite the storm. “Didn’t he tell you?”

Dima folds her fist over her heart. “I could not go back without you.”

“Then come back with me now.” You offer her your hand once more.

Her smile is bright. “Is this a choice or an order, my Lady?”

You chuckle softly, shaking your head at the gall – the bravery – of her. You are the Queen of Nightmares and yet Dima does not flinch. Perhaps that’s because she knew you before your death. You don’t frighten her and you don’t want to. She was your first friend, after all.

“A choice, Dima.”

The rainfall starts to lessen. “Then I choose to accept.”

*

50 years later…

(1972)

This is your third time visiting Fawney Rig. The second had been a rushed visit after you felt Jessamy’s death. It had been like an arrow through your lungs. You brought yourself to the cellar and demanded Morpheus allow revenge—if not for him then for Jessamy.

You were bound to Corinthian’s promise to not harm Roderick. But, you could harm others. You could make them all suffer for their foolishness. You could make Roderick miserable. But, you wouldn’t do it without Morpheus’ blessing. He needed to balance the scales. He needed to owe you his life, or something close to it, so that you could truly be equals.

Yet, Morpheus did not speak to you.

That had been about fifty years ago—give or take. It was time to see if the Dream Lord’s stubbornness had finally eroded. The snowfall is light, though thick piles rest on the pine like bruises. You choose to feel the cold. You let it push through the weaves of your wool coat and prickle against your cheeks and nose.

You reach for the doorknob and your fingers freeze in mid-air, straining against an invisible force, before omniscience wraps itself around you. They’ve warded Fawney Rig from me, you think with a furrowed brow. It was Corinthian, of this you have no doubt.

“Cowardly little nightmare,” you mutter to yourself, though you are a little impressed. It’s been decades since you’ve seen Dream, yet Corinthian is afraid of you, and worried that you’ll find a way around the promise that was made. “Smart,” you concede, blinking snowflakes from your eyelashes, “but cowardly.”

You reach out to Dream through the ambiguous, void-space of one mind talking to another.

“I do not expect a reply, Lord of Dreams, but I’d like you to know that they’ve warded the mansion against me.” You pause walking the perimeter. “So, even if you wished for my help, I could not give it.”

The magic surrounding Fawney Rig is well-crafted, tailored, and not even your various shape-shifted forms can penetrate it. You circle towards the entrance.

“It’s snowing. The moon is full.” You don’t know if Dream can hear you, but it feels nice to try. He rejects all of your ritual daggers, but perhaps he will take this instead – insignificant details of the world that he loves from the Goddess he revived.

“I’ve always had a fondness for nights like these. The world is gray and white. The moon is like a silver coin in the sky.”

You crumple powdery snow between your fingers. “You know, the mountains were my favorite place in the Dreaming. They still are, if we’re being forthcoming about it. I’ve yet to visit them again. They remind me of...solitude and serenity, the clarity that comes from being a distance.”

You pull a novel from the inner lining of your coat. There are hours before the next shift change and you want to see if the guards perform any rituals during the transition. You are curious to discover if you can break these bonds.

The hours whittle away as you speak to Dream, mind-to-mind.

“I heard about Roderick’s death. It could’ve been crueler. Should have been.”

“I would’ve driven him mad, if it had been me. I would have plagued him with visions of his dead son until he freed you with broken, bloody hands.”

“I ran into your sibling, Desire. About…” You count the years in your head. “Thirteen years ago? I asked if they knew I’d die if I returned to the Heart Tree and they said they had their suspicions.” You scoff. “Which I believe means yes. You likely know them better than I, so draw your own conclusions.” You idly wave your hand as if brushing the story aside.

You disliked being set up as a pawn in an emotional chess game between ancient, cosmic entities. You had told Desire as much and were seething when you turned your heel and said, “Leave me out of it next time.”

You aren’t a pawn, anymore. You look after the Dreaming. You look after mortals—especially young, scared children, like that little girl with the dog—regardless of whether or not they provide offerings or prayers. You don’t like to get involved in their messy, dramatic, and short mortal lives, but you like to watch them. You like to see how the threads of fate unravel and twist unexpectedly.

In time, you know that ‘The Morrigan’ will eventually reach the collective consciousness, but you just don’t yet know what new stories they will tell.

“I’ll return when I can.” You rise to your feet from where you had been sitting in the snow.

“Why?” His voice scrapes through your mind like gravel. Your knees buckle and you catch yourself on the manor’s brick wall. The cold air bites through your lungs. You want to live inside the roughed caress of his voice. A sweeter sound never made, you think, as you try to calm your heart.

Your heart hums. “Nobody else listens half as well as you do.” You touch your forehead against the wall and the Ward stings your skin.

“Until next we meet, Morpheus.” The promise lingers in the air among the snowflakes.

[oldfashioned-lovergirl]

Fic request! I'd love to read more about Niki and James and their early-days flatshare - maybe something a bit hurt/comfort where Niki is the one who gets the comfort, and James is unexpectedly mature and sensible (for at least a short while!)? But dealer's choice if that doesn't resonate!

☆ MY LOVE MINE ALL MINE (part 2) — niki lauda x james hunt

tags: hurt/comfort, fluff

note: late sorry but here I am. hope you’ll like it!

masterlist

・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・

The practice didn’t go well, so Niki was particularly downhearted those days. He usually could manage well his emotions by telling himself how to improve, even when it wasn’t his fault, but sometimes it wasn’t easy. He travelled a lot and was always busy and that made him feel tired most of the time.

That night he was sitting on the bed contemplating the circuit he had drawn on a notebook.

He was concentrated when he heard the door opening and closing. “I’m home!” James walked in the apartment and knocked on Niki’s room. “Can I?”

“Uhm, yes.” Niki’s eyes did not move from the notebook.

He half opened the door and glanced inside the bedroom. “I had dinner out, hope you don’t mind.”

“Ja, I’m not hungry anyway.”

James probably had noticed his not so joyful expression, because he stepped in the room and glanced at him with arms crossed. Weird, thought Niki. When he was in a bad mood, and it wasn’t rare, James used to ignore him to avoid being treated badly.

“What happened?”

Niki shook his head and put a hand on his forehead. “Nothing, just a bad week.”

“What are you looking at?” James sat next to him on the bed and looked at the notes. “Oh, that looks familiar.” He laughed slightly and then closed his notebook. “I think you should take a break.”

Niki looked towards him in surprise. “What?”

“Some rest. Everything will get clearer then.”

“I don’t need to rest.”

“Your eyes don’t seem to agree.”

Niki sighed. He put the book aside reluctantly.

“There. Now, what’s the deal?” James was unusually kind.

“It’s just that… sometimes it gets difficult, I don’t know if I’m enough for all of this.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, you are more than enough. Everybody acknowledges your talent.”

“That’s bullshit! Nobody believes in me.” Niki was tired of people telling him he wasn’t suited for the sport, he was too strict and he knew one failure could made him loose the job.

“Well, I do.”

Niki looked up at him, not expecting that statement at all.

James put a hand on his shoulder. “And you should too.” He smiled. “Hey, don’t think that because we race against each other I don’t think you’re a great driver.”

“Sure, and you’re a great liar.”

“Stop that. I mean it.”

Niki couldn’t really imagine someone being actually there to support him. He felt so grateful for having James in his life. “Thank you.”

“Don’t. Now just lay down. Trust me, you’ll feel better.”

As he laid down, James’ hand hadn’t left his shoulder. He was already sleepy, so it didn’t take much before he closed his eyes. Falling asleep, he couldn’t quite comprehend what the sudden soft feeling on his cheek was. Probably a kiss. Waking up he would’ve wonder if he had dreamt of it.

[hoziercriespower]

I'm tired of people pretending Taylor Swift is a better song writer than Hozier. Florence should have collabed with him instead.

Usually I'd just ignore things like this but either you've been spamming me with similiar messages or there's a small group of people that seems to think I'm in change of Florence's collaboration process. Believe me, if I were, I'd have been asking for a Hozier / Florence collab for years like so many others, but she's a grown woman capable of making her own choices. If she wants to collab with Taylor, she's fully entitled to. This also doesn't mean she can't ever collaborate with Andrew just because she's made a song with Taylor.

Comparing two artists that are vastly different but equally as driven by the work they do and create doesn't make sense to me. Hozier isn't trying to be Taylor and Taylor isn't trying to be Hozier. They can exist within the same universe without people pitting them against each other. Talent is subjective. What you might be pleasant to your ears could be torture to another. They're both good at what they do and you can't take that from either of them. Just because they're both known for their writing doesn't mean one's ability overides the other. They exist in difference spaces.

Andrew has made it clear (even in very recent interviews) that he isn't making music for radio play. He makes music tackling difficult subject matters, which to some people is a lot to consume. Some people either can't or don't want to connect with it. That's okay. He's made peace with that and has always know that's not his target demographic anyway. He doesn't want people to listen to his songs if it doesn't resonate with them and he isn't going to stop making hard hitting songs because they're not hitting the chats. This doesn't mean people don't regard him as a great song-writer.

Taylor, on the other hand has built her career of relatability. The majority of people that listen to her now are people that grew up listening to her when she was young. They grew up with her and so their milestones often intertwine. Her stories resonate with others and it's easy to swallow because most people expierence the same thing. She's been questioned so many times during her career that she constantly feels like she has to prove herself, so she wants to validation of the charts. She's never hidden that. So maybe she's given more attention to her writing ability, but that's because her music is more widely spread.

Ultimately, Florence is clearly happy with her decision and maybe one day we could get a Florence and Hozier collab we so desperately want. That doesn't mean other artists need to be bashed in order for this to happen. You can not like the collab, you can not like Taylor, but please don't use me as a device to spread negative opinions on another artist. That's not what I'm about. I just want to post Hozier content since I noticed a distinct lack of it showing up on tumblr.

[ram-bam-writes]

Reluctancy pt. 1 [Kyle Garrick x NB Reader]

A/N: An idea I had for an Enemies to Lovers medium-slow-burn fit series with my precious cheeky Sergeant. As always, updates are sporadic, so lemme know if you wanna be tagged. Not a lot of Gaz love out there and I plan to change that. 

Summary: Gaz finds himself in an interesting position when the Captain of a troublesome organization ends up on his front door with surprising injuries and promises of intel he doesn’t trust.

CW: Mentions of injuries (not explicit), some cursing, Gaz being a moody bastard, mentions of blood, etc. [As always, CWs will change with each chapter accordingly]

Word Count: 2466

[Pt.1] [Pt.2]

This whole thing was stupid. It’s bad enough that your team essentially overthrew and exiled you. But what was worse was who you had to confront for help.

You’d been dancing around TF141 for a while now. They aren’t very fond of you and your team’s style, thinking you to be too much at times. But those interrogations needed to be done — you needed the intel. And you got the intel. So what was the problem? You’d studied them for ages, sneaking around them at any given chance. They’d done much worse than you and your team.

But it doesn’t matter anymore. The only thing that matters is you find a certain Sergeant to help you with your current situation. The Captain would never hear you out, and the Skull and Mohawk duo looked all too terrifying to deal with. So the next best thing? The Sergeant they all seemed to trust. If you can gain his, you can gain theirs and fix this stupid ordeal.

You wince as you take a step towards the barracks at the 141’s current base. They were currently stationed with a few other SAS operatives after doing a couple inside jobs with their help. Your head spins a little when you climb the stairs, using your previous intel to figure out the Sergeant’s room.

Knock knock knock…

You’re greeted with the sight of the younger, more spritely member of the 141. For a moment, you catch a glimpse of that soft, lazy smile he offers. But those dark brown eyes can only grow darker, a low growl coming from his lips.

“Got a lot of nerve coming around here, mate,” comes his low tone, and he pulls a small blade from his belt. “Gimme one good reason not t’finish ya where you stand…” A threat and a half if you’ve ever heard one. This will be a bit more difficult…

You grip your side again, a throb of pain rippling through your body. It punches the wind out of you, something you try to ignore. You’re a bloody Captain, for crying out loud! You can take a few kicks to the ribs, and even more knicks from a blade.

“I’ve got intel. You’ve got shelter.” You state cooly, trying to save face by gritting your teeth and offering a scowl. “I think a deal is set.”

Garrick raises his brow and he takes a single step closer. “Come again? I’ve got a criminal here an’ you ‘spect me to help ya?”

A low growl resonates from your own throat this time. 

“Listen. I don’t want this any more than you do, but I’ve got somethin’ you want, and I don’t reckon either of us want the current situation with the Cartel to get any further out of hand, hm?”

He opens his mouth to argue, brows furrowing in the process. But he stops the moment you cough, arms coming up to cover your chapped lips. You both look to find blood on your arm.

“Fuck…” you murmur, eyes fluttering as you collapse forward.

Garrick doesn’t catch you, and you find yourself crumpled on your knees in front of the Sergeant.

“32 point 26 degrees North, 116 point 18 degrees West.” You manage to choke out, just as he begins pushing the door closed.

That gets him to pause.

“Tecate, Mexico.” He doesn’t move, simply staring at you as you speak with blood in your mouth. “There’s a major Cartel system there.”

He exhales through his nose, turning to look both ways outside of his door before grabbing you by the bicep and dragging you inside. You’re plopped onto the floor, the sound of the door clicking shut behind you. Garrick paces, eyes flicking you over.

“Why should I trust those coordinates, mate?” He inquires with disdain in his voice. “I’m not lookin’ to get my team ambushed for the second time.”

“Third” You correct his words before you can stop it, earning a glare from the Sergeant. “… and you can trust me because it’s true. Any drone footage can prove that. Big trucks go in…”

You cough up more blood, eyes shot and body trembling.

“Lots of small cars go out. Shipments.”

The Sergeant stares you down for a good, long while. His gaze flicks from your blood-soaked lips to your injured waist, arm protective around the sensitive area. He analyzes you, figuring every little detail out. He’s always been the observing type.

“So you want a place to shelter in return, then?” He cocks his head to the side. “Or perhaps some medicinal aid.”

You scowl. “I’m fine. I need that Cartel Camp destroyed before they smuggle anything else in or out.” “Or before your team gets to them.”

You suck in a breath. Had you been that obvious? No, he’s trying to show power over you. “No. Before they hurt my team.” He makes a sound of understanding, one that’s laced with sarcasm. “Tell me then, mate. How’d they get captured?”

This man knows how to press all of your buttons, and knows how to interrogate. You know that’s what he’s doing. He’s breaking you down, flooding you with questions that he knows you’ll struggle to answer as time goes on. You can only keep this lie up for so long. 

But you can bite one bullet and save yourself from another.

“I was careless.” That gets him to look at you more directly. “They got my team, and now I’m here. I want them back before they’re smuggled for money.”

He inhales through his nose, looking rather irritated by the situation. No, not quite irritated. More… inconvenienced by it. He raises his foot and pushes you down by the shoulder, eyes narrowed.

“If I fix up these scuffs to find you were lying to me…” he purrs, eyes darkening with every second. “You’ll never get yourself sorted when I’m done with ya…”

You let out a grunt as your back hits the ground. The action causes your torso to stretch, your ribs pressing uncomfortably against the surrounding muscles. 

“I don’t need—“

“You say that one more time and I’m gonna drop you out o’ my window.” His eyes bore into yours. “Take yer gear off. Let me get you right as rain. And then get me the bloody photos from your intel.”

You don’t argue when his foot presses your shoulder more, lips parting to yell out in pain. He releases his foot after a moment, allowing you a chance to breathe. “Fuck…”

Impatiently, he reaches out and grabs your tac vest, tearing at the velcro straps and throwing it elsewhere in his barrack. His hands grip the black tac shirt you have on, unzipping the half-zipper before yanking it over your head. You cry out again from the sudden jerk to your arm but he pays no mind. 

Somewhere deep down, you want to abandon this whole thing. Get away and start all over. But your men spoke of unspeakable means to end the Cartel, and you can’t let them get their hands on that base in Tecate. Not when a list of every Cartel base from here to New York is laid out in plain text. Not while your men have the means to some terrible bio weapons.

The bloody traitors.

“Bloody hell…” Garrick murmurs, taking a look at the bruising along your right-hand side. A good majority of the lower ribs were covered in deep yellow, purple, and red bruising, not to mention the cuts and scars along the rest of your torso and arms. “Right… first things on the list: cold pack, gauze, and anti-bac. Give me a moment.”

You cower a little when he stands at his full height. You weren’t intimidated by him, not necessarily. But the thought of him treating your wounds was a blow to your ego you weren’t interested in taking. Not by a long shot.

“Just get me the supplies and I’ll fix it myself.” You bite back another groan as blood seeps past your teeth. “Then you can take care of the intel.”

“No.”

You glare at the Sergeant’s back as he stretches up to grasp the med-kit on the top of the fridge. 

“No?”

He turns to face you. “There’s sharp things inside this kit. I’m not takin’ my chances, Chav.”

You exhale your frustrations. “Why do I get the feeling that’s an insult…”

“Because it bloody well is.”

His hands grasp your biceps, splaying you out on the floor beneath him as he rips a pack of gauze open. “Don’t move or I might make this hurt on purpose…” 

You hold your breath as Garrick’s hands work the gauze around your waist. After a few wraps, he places a cold pack on your side, wrapping it a few times with gauze. Peeling off the seal with his teeth, he pulls open the pack of anti-bacterial wipes and eases the wet fabric over your wounds. Your body tenses at the burning sensation, eyes squeezing shut as you fight through your own pained sounds to keep some semblance of dignity in this situation. 

A few minutes pass before he hauls you up again, setting you down a bit more gently on the couch in the living space of his barrack. He crouches down in front of you, pulling on his tan gloves.

“I’m going to get photos of that base from you, and if you want to stay unbroken, I suggest you waste no time getting those to me, Chav.”