#i mean i already am doing that actually (i just wish i could be doing it right now)

[salemlunaa]

stop putting your happiness off for the void ༄

you’re waiting for the void to give yourself your desires when you could have it now!!

My account is mainly about inducing the void, so no this is not an anti void post discouraging using it. And no i’m not going to go on some rant about how the void is toxic because a simple state of consciousness can never be toxic unless you make it.

HOWEVER,

a lot of you put your desires off until you shift or reach the void, you hate your body and your face your life, your family, your school life your social life. But you refuse to live in the end, and why? because you’re “going to the void anyway” (🙄anyway….)

But it makes no sense, because with loa and manifestation, the whole prompt is that whatever you desire has already happened. And your desire is to induce pure consciousness, so using loa logic, you have already induced pure consciousness, so your desires are already here. Give them to yourself, a lot of you complain in my asks and dms about how much you hate your life and how much you need the void, but you’ve already been, you have your desires, give them to yourself now.

And it’s this mindset that provokes a toxic atmosphere, and it’s this mindset that stops you from inducing the void. And why? well because you denying the fact that you already live your dream life means one thing: you believe that the void is the one providing you your desires, you believe that you don’t have them “yet” and that you’ll get them when you induce pure consciousness, meaning you believe the void has the power and not you. Because if you did acknowledge the fact that you have the power and your desires aren’t riding on whether you induce pure consciousness, then you would’ve given your dream life to yourself already.

The void is powerless, it’s just a state of consciousness where YOUR subconscious takes full control and you are in your 4d and your 4d alone, meaning any intention YOU set comes to life. It’s you has the power, the void is a lifeless state of mind, it’s you who brings the power. So if you can acknowledge that, why are you waiting to induce the void for you to be happy with your desires. YOU CAN HAVE THEM NOW

“I hate my life but atleast when I induce pure consciousness, i’ll have all my desires” why can’t you have them now? are you gonna let the void dictate whether you have your desires or not?

Stop looking at the void as your ticket out of your shitty life, with a flip of a switch you can be out of your shitty life if you just decide that to be true. Why does it depend on whether you induce the void or not? You need to recognise that you can life in the end now, and when you realise that and stop putting the void on a pedestal, you’ll put yourself under less pressure to induce and you will actually succeed.

The reason a lot of you fail is because

you think the void grants your wishes ➯ you refuse to live in the end and decide to suffer until you reach the void ➯ you form a belief that your dream life is riding on the void ➯ you put the void on this pedestal because it’s the “only way you’ll make it out” ➯ you hype the void up to be this extravagant experience, meaning you don’t properly understand ➯ you put more and more pressure on yourself to induce, making it a bigger deal than it has to be ➯ you’ll never get to understand how simple and casual pure consciousness is ➯ you “fail” to get in and start to doubt

This is a mindset a lot of you don’t know you’re in and it will cost you alot. So just live in the end, why does your school life have to be shitty until you induce the void, why can’t it be amazing like you always desired? Why do you have to hate your face until you induce the void, why can’t you have your desired face now?

You don’t have to struggle until you induce the void, you can be happy and live in the end now. The void/“I Am” state is as simple as breathing, you can do it, but putting all this pressure on yourself to induce due to lack will make things harder for you.

🌞🪼 stop waiting for the void to have your desires, you can be fulfilled now!!

[brightlight-dazzlingeyes]

what am i to you | pablo gavi [part ii]

🌧️ synopsis: In an attempt to get over Pablo, you go on a date, only to end up in the hospital with a sprained ankle. When Pablo shows up uninvited, trying to take care of you, the moment turns into a full-blown fight. tags: angst, unrequited love, emotional tension. (written in 2nd person but no mention of yn) (around 2.5k words)

you can read the first part here.

After the confession, you both said you'd stay in each other's lives, like nothing had changed. You promised. But promises, you realize, are easier said than kept.

The calls become even rarer, and when they do come, they’re awkward, halting. He used to be the first person you’d call when you were bored, the one you’d go to when you needed to vent or laugh, and now? Now you just… don’t.

That’s when you meet him – this other guy. He’s nice, funny enough, interested. And he’s not Pablo. You don’t have butterflies, but there’s a kind of safety in that, a relief in the way he looks at you with no expectations, no memories weighing you down. So when he asks you out, you say yes, not because you’re excited, but because you’re desperate to move forward, to stop feeling like you’re stuck in that moment when Pablo said, “I’m sorry. I can’t give you what you want.”

The night of the date, you’re almost ready when your phone rings. It’s Pablo, and your heart jumps, he hasn’t called in weeks, and it’s like he knew, like he somehow sensed that you were trying to step away from him for good.

You answer, trying to sound normal. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he says, his voice distant, like he’s not sure if he’s intruding. “It’s been a while.”

“Yeah,” you say, trying to keep it casual. You’re trying to decide between two different shoes for the date, and it feels wrong. “I guess we’ve both been… busy.”

It’s a lie, and you both know it. But you’re not about to get into that now. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, all dressed up, ready to leave.

“Actually,” you interrupt, “I’m kind of in a hurry. I have… plans.”

There’s a beat of silence, and you can almost picture the look on his face – confused, caught off guard. “Plans?” he asks, and you can hear an edge in his voice now, one he’s trying to hide. “Like… a date?”

“Yeah,” you say, forcing yourself to sound like it’s not a big deal. “I’m going out with someone.”

“With who?”

“Just… someone I met,” you say, trying to brush it off, “We’ve only talked a couple of times.”

There’s silence, and you’re about to check if he’s still on the line when he says, “So that’s what you’re doing now? Just going out with random guys?”

You get defensive. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know,” he snaps, his anger leaking into his words. “It’s just… you’re already –” He stumbles over the words, his voice tight. “Is that what you want now?”

“It’s not like that,” you insist, feeling the heat rise in your face. “You’re the one who –” You stop yourself because you promised you wouldn’t do this. You wouldn't blame him. But he doesn’t make it easy.

He lets out a bitter laugh, and it cuts deeper than you’d like to admit. “No, go ahead. Say it.”

You swallow hard, fighting the urge to lash back. “I miss you,” you say.

“It doesn’t look like you do,” he says quietly, and there’s a hurt there you didn’t expect. 

Your chest tightens, and you can feel the tears burning at the back of your eyes. “Pablo, you stopped calling,” you say, your voice breaking. “You left me here alone, what was I supposed to do?”

He doesn’t respond right away, and you wish you could see his face, wish you could understand what’s going through his mind. “I just… I thought we’d be okay,” he says finally, his voice sounding defeated. “That we’d get through this. Together.”

You take a shaky breath. “I thought so too,” you admit. There’s a silence that stretches on, heavy and suffocating.

“Yeah, well,” he mutters, “have fun on your date.” And then he hangs up before you can say another word, leaving you staring at your reflection, feeling like you’ve lost him all over again.

part 2

The date wasn’t going great, you didn’t have much in common with the guy, and things got even worse. One minute you’re walking across the street after dinner, pretending to laugh at some lame joke he made, and the next, your ankle twists under you, the pain shooting up your leg like a lightning bolt. You try to catch yourself, but you land hard, knees buckling beneath you.

The guy freaks out, asking if you're okay, but all you can focus on is the pulsing pain in your ankle. You're pretty sure it's sprained, but you're too embarrassed to admit it right away. He helps you up, practically carrying you to the nearest bench, and that's when you finally let yourself wince in pain.

A trip to the hospital later and you’re sitting in one of those sterile, white rooms, cradling your swollen ankle in your lap. Nothing too serious, just a sprain, but it’s enough to make you feel like an idiot. The guy’s hovering by the door, looking uncomfortable, like he wants to leave but doesn't know how. You can’t blame him. The awkwardness between you is palpable, and this was supposed to be a fun night.

You’re ready to get out of there, but you don't want to be alone for the discharge process. The guy’s already looking at his phone like he’s counting the minutes. So, you make a decision.

You pull out your phone, thinking of someone nearby, someone who won’t make things more awkward. Aurora. You don’t really want to call her, but she lives in the neighborhood, and you can’t stand the idea of sitting here with the date guy. It's nothing against him – well, maybe it is, but you really just need a friend right now.

You hit call, and it rings a few times before she picks up, her voice bright and concerned.

“Hey, what’s up? You good?”

“I’m at the hospital,” you say quickly, the words sounding so much worse than they feel. “I sprained my ankle on the date, can you come? Please?”

Aurora doesn’t even hesitate. “Of course, I’m on my way.” You end the call, grateful she’s coming, and feeling a lot better knowing someone familiar will be here soon.

A few minutes later, the door swings open. You expect it to be Aurora, but when you look up, you freeze.

Pablo stands there, his eyes wide with concern, his posture stiff. And right next to him, Aurora is visibly cringing, her face flushed red. She’s holding her hands up in an apologetic gesture. “I didn’t mean to –” she starts, but Pablo cuts her off.

“Are you okay?” His voice is frantic, as if you’re on the brink of death instead of sitting there with a sprained ankle.

You blink, taken aback by how he’s acting.

“I’m fine,” you say, a little too forcefully, but the last thing you need right now is to be treated like a patient. “Just a sprain. Nothing serious.”

Pablo doesn’t look convinced. He steps into the room, eyes scanning your ankle. He’s clearly overreacting, but it’s hard to argue with him when he’s looking at you like that.

Aurora stands off to the side, a sheepish look on her face. “I’m sorry, I called him,” she whispers. “I thought you’d want him to know.”

“Really?” you ask, a little irritated now, because it’s clear Pablo doesn’t know how to handle this. You’re still pissed at him for the phone call earlier, but now? Now it feels like he’s intruding, even though you’re happy to see him, just not like this.

Pablo, still standing too close, suddenly shifts his weight, looking uncomfortable. “I don’t know, I just… I thought I should be here,” he says, his voice a little quieter, like he’s realizing how ridiculous he’s being.

“I’m fine,” you repeat, trying to lighten the mood. “Seriously. I’m just waiting to be discharged.”

Before you can say anything else, the date guy clears his throat. You turn to see him stepping forward.

"Um, should I leave?" His voice is a little too high-pitched, trying to be polite but also clearly uncomfortable now that Pablo’s here. Pablo, who’s still looking at you like he’s trying to figure out if you’re dying, shifts his eyes to the guy standing by the door.

“Who even are you?” Pablo’s tone is confused, but there's also a sharpness to it now, something territorial. It doesn’t make sense, but you can feel the weirdness between them.

You open your mouth, about to explain, but Pablo cuts you off.

“Is that the guy you just had a date with?” His eyes rake over him. "Yeah, you can leave now. I got it." He waves him off, voice firm and final, like he’s the one in charge here.

“Pablo, what the hell?” you snap. Your blood’s boiling, you look over at the date guy, who’s still standing there like he’s waiting for a command. “Yeah, you can go now,” you say, softer, sweeter than Pablo, but the sentiment’s the same. “Thanks for bringing me here.”

Pablo scoffs, and it’s the kind of sound that tells you he’s annoyed, but it’s also kind of funny, considering he’s the one who’s ruining the moment. You’re not sure if he’s jealous or if he’s just being an idiot, but it pisses you off all the same.

Once the date guy leaves, the silence between you and Pablo is loud. You cross your arms, staring at him like you’re daring him to keep pushing.

“Well, now you can leave!” you say, voice cool, as you face him. 

Pablo doesn't budge, though. "And how are you going home?" He sounds offended, like you’ve done something wrong by even suggesting that he should leave.

You roll your eyes. “Aurora can take me,” you mutter, already tired of the back-and-forth.

Pablo’s face twitches like he’s winning the argument. “I drove Aurora here,” he says, smug. Like the fact that he’s the one with the car makes him the one in control now.

Your eyes narrow, but deep down, you know you’ve got no choice. “Fine,” you grumble, defeated.

part 3

Pablo’s arms are strong, but his touch is gentle as he picks you up, carrying you bridal style like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His hands are steady as he lifts you, his face close to yours, it makes you feel like you're back in that place where everything between you two was simple. But that’s not the reality anymore, is it?

He doesn’t say a word as he carries you to the couch, setting you down so gently it’s almost too much. You want to tell him to back off, to let you handle it, but you catch something in his eyes that stops you – he’s looking at you like you’re the most important thing in the world, and you can’t deal with that, not right now.

“It’s just a sprain,” you say, but your voice cracks halfway through, and you hate yourself for it. You hate how kind he’s being, how his touch makes everything hurt even more.

Pablo shakes his head. “I miss you too,” he says, his voice low, almost broken. It’s a call back to the phone call, to what you said earlier, and it’s like he’s holding onto those words for dear life.

Your heart feels like it’s about to shatter. “Then let me go,” you whisper, tears streaming down your face. “We can’t be friends if I’m in love with you, you idiot.”

He’s closer now, wiping the tears from your cheek, his hand lingering longer than it should. He’s too close, and you’re drowning in it. But you let him stay because, in some twisted way, it’s all you have left of him.

“Don’t go on dates with idiots,” he says, his voice is exasperated. “You don’t need them. You just need to be with me, and we can make it work. We can go back to how it was. I promise.”

You shake your head, trying to stop the tears that just won’t quit. “Just because you don’t want me doesn’t mean no one else will,” you say, the words bitter on your tongue. “Don’t act like I can’t find someone who can make me happy.”

Pablo’s face hardens, his eyes narrowing. “You’re just doing this to get back at me, and you know it.”

You almost laugh, shaking your head. “I’m not trying to get back at you, I’m trying to move on. I can’t keep pretending we’re okay.”

“You don’t need someone else,” he says through gritted teeth, his hand clenched into a fist. “You never needed anyone else. You’ve always had me.”

“Not anymore,” you snap, your anger flaring. “I don’t have you anymore! You’ve shut me out like nothing happened!”

His eyes flash, he steps closer, his hand reaching out for you, but you flinch back, afraid of how close he is, afraid of what it means. “I never wanted to hurt you,” he says, his voice so small. “I just... I didn’t know what to do.”

“You didn’t have to do anything,” you say, your whole body trembling. “You just had to stay.”

His face falls, and for a second, you almost reach out to him. But you stop yourself. “I want my best friend back,” he says, his voice cracking.

“You don’t get that,” you shout, the words rushing out. “You can’t pretend I’m the same person I was before any of this happened. I’m not!”

“I don’t care!” His voice rises, raw and desperate. “I don’t care if it’s different, I just want you in my life. I don’t know what to do without you.”

You pull away. “You can’t keep saying that.”

He looks at you, devastated. He’s leaning closer now, his hand on your knee, his thumb rubbing circles against your skin. It’s like he’s pretending nothing’s changed, pretending this is how things always were.

“Pablo –"

You push against his chest, the tears running down your face now, uncontrollable. “Please, just leave,” you say, your voice shaking, but you mean it.

You’ve had enough. You’re done.

But Pablo just looks at you, he doesn’t move, doesn’t leave, and for a moment, you’re sure he’s not going to listen.

“Please,” you beg, your voice breaking. "Just go."

Pablo’s hand brushes his own cheek, wiping away a tear he hadn’t realized fell. He speaks like he's trying to convince himself more than you. “I’ll come back,” he says. “To check on your injury, make sure you’re better.”

He looks away quickly. “I’ll take care of you... like you took care of me.” His words hang in the air, painfully.

You watch him go, every step tearing at you. As the door closes, you stare at it for a second, your body tensing as if it’s about to snap in two. And then you can’t take it anymore. You reach for the nearest pillow, throwing it at the door with every ounce of anger you’ve been holding inside.

“Idiot!” you scream, everything hurts – your heart, your head, your stupid, stupid tears.

You sit there, staring at the door, feeling the ache spread through your chest. It hits you like a punch – you haven’t touched him, haven’t held him in over a month. It feels like the end of everything, and it’s crushing you.

You curl up on the couch, hugging yourself, wishing things could go back to how they were before everything went wrong. But they can’t. All you have is the emptiness he left behind, and it’s swallowing you whole.

[grinsgrimmy]

Hi! This is my first time ever requesting anything so sorry if this is bad. 😣😣

Can you do a Izek van omertà from how to win my husband over? (I love him so much 😭) Like we’re Ruby’s younger sister, we go to visit her, and while we’re there we get to know Izek. Can this also be platonic? Please and thank you! I love your work as well! ☺️

Ｌ Ｉ Ｔ Ｔ Ｌ Ｅ Ｓ Ｉ Ｓ Ｔ Ｅ Ｒ .

ㅤᯓᡣ𐭩 𝖨𝖲𝖪𝖤 𝖵𝖠𝖭 𝖮𝖬𝖤𝖱𝖳𝖠 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖠𝖥𝖠𝖡!𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

HOW TO GET MY HUSBAND ON MY SIDE

๋࣭⭑ֶֶֶָָָ֢֢֢𖹭 drabble . (1013 words)

sum. ruby's little sister decided to visit her one day, only to judge iske platonic

note : thank you for the request and nice words, anonie!! my first platonic fic, so idk if i did well but i tried! i also tried my best to write beyond just meeting iske so im REALLY REALLY sorry for changing the prompt. i wish i can write more but this is suppose to be a drabble, so i had to shorten the ending...

drabble request slots

ㅤ⪩⪨ m.list

“ruby, i don't like him.”

you muttered under your breath almost immediately after stepping out of your carriage, greeted by your sister and her imposing husband.

it had not been a minute, but you were absolutely certain that you did not like duke iske van omerta.

ruby's eyes widened, a mix of embarrassment and amusement flashing across her face as she glanced at iske, who stood baffled by your blunt words, but his expression remained unreadable (much to your annoyance).

ruby let out a nervous laugh, pulling you to her to give a quick hug. “you little—! you just got here,” she whispered sharply, her wobbly, embarrassed smile betraying her amusement. “you haven't even talked to him, and you already decided that he's the bad guy.”

“he looks mean.” you glanced up at the towering man with an icy glare of your own as you furrowed your brows, “and kind of ugly.” you could hear the screech of disbelief from ruby when those words left your mouth.

you yelped as ruby pulled you to her, as she covered your mouth with her hand. ruby gave a nervous and apologetic grin to iske, “she doesn't mean it! she's just tired from the journey—”

you struggled, attempting to protest against ruby's words, “no i'm not he's— mmph!” ruby's grip on your mouth tightened, keeping her stilling grin.

“she doesn't mean it!”

iske's eyes narrowed slightly, his bewilderment shifting to something more unreadable. iske did not know whether to be offended or stunned by the audacity of ruby's sister. 

he could not exactly be angry since, well, you are ruby's sister.

iske was quite confident about himself as a duke and commander, who often instilled fear and rumors— however, being called mean and ugly by his wife's teenage sister was certainly a humbling experience.

though he did not show it, he was genuinely bothered by it.

iske raised a brow, folding his arms across his chest. “does she always introduce herself like this?” ruby let out another nervous laugh, still holding your mouth shut, “oh, she's usually much, much worse.”

“am not!” you managed to squeak out as you wriggled free from her grasps. as you stumbled on your steps, you quickly jabbed a finger to iske, “i'm being honest! you look scary! why does ruby always sing praises about yo— ow! ruby!”

despite iske's stoic demeanour while watching the exchange between ruby and her sister, something about your words seemed to pierce through iske's unshakeable confidence. his stature had stiffened since you called him ugly, and so did his sharp gaze.

when hearing that you were visiting ruby, iske actually put in a whole lot of effort to look neat, tidy, and sophisticated to have your approval after ruby said that you were a cranky teen that did not really like people.

ruby managed to calm you down from your crankiness of disliking iske, she turned her head back to iske—

only to find him leaning against a pillar of the manor, as if sulking. well, ruby assumed he was sulking, judging by his faltered shoulders and contemplating expression. 

if anything, he looked troubled. 

ruby could barely hear the mumbles coming from him

ruby paled to see iske having an existential crisis. she shot you a warning glare before walking to iske, trying to comfort him, “iske, don't let my sister's words get into your head! you're fine the way you are!”  

iske is a duke, a commander, a man accustomed to respect and feared by many.

yet here he was, troubled by the blunt opinion of a teenager.

his wife's little sister.

it made him extra bothered when you really liked iske's sister, but not him.

during the duration of your stay, iske tried to appeal to you. somehow, that was. he always struck up conversations with you whenever you were around, which you found completely awkward and weird of him, unfortunately.

then he tried to appeal to your taste palette. he made sure that every meal from breakfast to dinner had meals that you were fond of, which ruby thankfully told him what you did like. that still did not make you like him at all.

iske had also attempted to give you tiny gifts. this was a strategy that ruby herself had told iske to try since you were quite fond of gifts. 

he had started to look like a kicked puppy due to not having ruby's little sister's approval.

“this isn't actually bad.” you admitted to ruby as you raised the toy plush of an animal you were fond of, gazing at it with satisfaction. “see, he's not that bad, right?” ruby mused with a strange sympathy for her husband, who's been in turmoil for two days due to you.

you gave her a look before sighing, “i'm surprised he's doing all of this. the attempts to talk to me, the food, and now the gifts. he's a real weirdo.” you huffed out.

you returned your eyes back to the plush. after a long while of thinking, you pouted, “ugh, fine... he's not that bad. i guess he's better than the rest of the other choices father had for you.” you grumbled out, embarrassed to admit that iske is actually a good man for your sister.

as you prepared to leave, you decided to apologise to iske about your behaviour. despite your irritation and resistance (and probably protectiveness over your sister), you could not ignore that iske had genuinely tried. 

you also had seen the way he looked at ruby. genuine love and care.

he was unlike those disgusting men.

you only gave a curt apology to iske. there was no need for grand gestures or for it to be lengthy before hopping into your carriage.

when you glanced out at the window, you noticed that iske's eyes brightened, like a dog. he looked at ruby with disbelief and pride. iske finally got your approval after three days of trying.

you could not help but feel a quiet sense of happiness, knowing that your sister will be fine with that weirdo.

・❥ want a hc / oneshot? please consider commissioning in ko-fi !

[schalotte]

i am so weird around other people i'm getting on my own nerves. Be Normal Girl

[acourtofquestions]

Chapter 89

I just finished Chapter 89

[selfinflictedgunshotwound]

sorry for only saying this type of shit lately but i kinda wanna drive a car straight into a brick wall at the highest speed possible

[scattered-winter]

every day i kick a rock and bash my head into the wall because i'll never get to go on a big space adventure and become tightly close-knit with my new found family up there <//3

[icewindandboringhorror]

Everytime I face a new character limit on a website that didn't have them before/used to have really long ones... AUGHHhhh the modern social media world was not made for people like me (lovers of details, rambling, elaboration, thorough explanation, and nuance)

[dandyshucks]

blinks tiredly. i decide "hm maybe i should try to expand my circle and step outside of it a little, lets go look at the main community tags" and im just greeted with a bunch of edgelords who think saying "fiction doesn't affect reality, don't like don't read" is peak activism and "fighting censorship". head in my hands. this is partially why i do not ever go into the community tags, my nervous system cannot handle blocking fifty weirdos every single day just so i can have a normal experience in the community tags hfdsjkl

[srldesigns6277]

.

[cavity-collector]

i genuinely need to be put down like a dog i cant do this anymore man holy shit

[kweenkatsuki-main]

Dude it’s fucking nuts that the world just keeps on going and people just keep on dying.

[talkorsomething]

want to cut my hair again like you wouldn't believe. What are the possible consequences of going bald

[clenastia]

i dont know why the running joke of this chapter is kakashi fearing for his kidneys. where did that come from. WHY did that come from.

i should probably cut that in editing it's a little ridiculous.

except it makes me giggle every time so maybe i should leave it there.

[loumauve]

the thing (well, one thing anyway) about chronic pain is how you'll have a day or half a day or even just a few hours that'll get you so close to just fucking wanting to end it all right then and there because you're just so tired of being in pain and it feeling like it'll never end and never get better, and your brain feels like it's on fire and you can't remember the last time you felt even just okay, much less fine or good.

and logically you know it'll probably be alright again in time, but the effort it takes to just make it through that moment is so exhausting that it just leaves you drained.

and it's not like you want to die, you just want the pain and misery to stop, and sometimes it feels like it never will. like you're just stuck on that endlessly-looping train track through hell with no stops to get off, and nothing will help you feel even minutely better at all.

[painted--constellations]

it’s funny because my mom has this shitty mentality where she thinks because she has been through so much and has chronic pain and health problems that everyone should just be nice to her and do everything she requests. but like. the lady is fine. like absolutely she has been through so much and does indeed struggle with her health and deserves patience and kindness, but like. in reference to me? when i get too stressed my body literally tries to end it all. i will throw up so violently and for so long i can tear my stomach open. but no, i’m the one who should be dancing around her, obviously.