#listening to spirity

[blackoutthewhiteout]

Shadow Work

@mantralotus Shadow Work and my personal gift that I didn’t know I needed it. #shadowwork #healingjourney #pasttrauma #motivation #grief #twins #universalgifts #fyp #spiritualtiktok #inspiration #overcomingtrauma #ancestral #blackgirlfollowtrain #childhood ♬ Emotional – Bang Nono

[ninten-draw]

hi rainworld tumblr i had a weird rainworld related dream last night and now im gonna share it 

Basically there was this new sort of campaign, but it involved ALL the slugcats. It was sort of like pantheon of hollownest , each slugcat had its own challenge and like expeditions you would lose and start over i you died on karma 0 Its order was weird but it was like monk -> hunter -> spearmaster -> gourmand -> artificer -> rivulet -> saint -> survivor , but instead of their normal campaigns they were more like.. what if scenarios, and it involved exploring and trying to find a way out of a structure/area until you find the “exit” which would look like a working subway that would take you to the next campaign I don’t remember all the campaigns, but I know in gourmands the “what if” scenario was what if the ancients never mass ascended? His was the easiest, as it mostly involved a lot of platforming and viewing the rainworld in its hay day, listening to the stories of the ancients, while also taking care of two slugpups with you. Artificers what it scenario is “what if she never managed to drive off the scavnegrs and scav king?” In this scenario we explore the ruins of five pebbles, as the mix of scavengers ripping apart his metropolis floor and the rot got to him, the Scavs have infiltrated five pebbles’ inner workings, and artificers goal is to escape the structure, starting from inside of the scav kings chambers, and escaping out into shoreline or industrial complex Rivulets was a lot more surreal? In it the iterator puppets don’t exist, meaning you don’t have an easy way of comprehending the iterators themselves, also the iterator computers are wayyy bigger. In it rivulet is exploring the inner workings of five pebbles and lttm, and with the computers having no easy way of directly communicating, end up trying to assist rivulet using their own coding, neuron flies, inspectors, and overseers it was also much darker in the computers, with very little light only coming from neuron flies and some code lighting up Saints was the second to last, and a very strange campaign, in it saint is in rubicon, except it’s completely dark, the only light being yellow void puddles and those weird yellow spirity sea creatures. There were also no rubicon creatures either. Instead of saint trying to travel up to get out of rubicon, this time saint is trying to go down, the campaigns challenges being a lot of parkour and trying to avoid the void puddles without your flight ability. Once you reach the ‘bottom’ you’ll encounter a small room similar to the one you’d find five pebbles and moon in, but this time it’s someone else, sliver of straw. She says nothing at first, but if you stick around for long enough she’ll say “I’m sorry” and that’s how saints thing would end The last one is survivor, in it it’s played out pretty normally for rainworld stuff, you start In subterranean and can’t go anywhere else, it’s dark, you’re at max karma, and you’re trying to go ascend. Subterranean itself becomes way bigger of an area to not make it a quick and easy trip Anyway you get down to the depths, ascend, but instead of the usual ending cutscene; we instead have a beginning cutscene, survivors intro cutscene, except survivor isn’t there, the family of slugcats move on, monk doesn’t go down into the sewers because there’s no one to go after, they just move on, and that’s how it ends, it just fades to black

[mahayanapilgrim]

SEVEN CORRUPTIONS

"Master Padma said: When practicing the Dharma there are seven types of corruption.

The lady asked: What are they?

1 The master said: if your faith is small while your intelligence is great, you become corrupted by considering yourself a teacher.

yot you come corry lie by considering your-set a spiritial,

friend.

3 If you assume superior qualities while not having taken the Dharma to heart, you become corrupted by considering yourself a leader.

4 If you give oral instructions while not practicing them yourself, you become corrupted by being an insensitive

"Dharma expert."

5 If you are fond of senseless babble while lacking the Dharma in your heart, you become corrupted by being a craving charlatan yogi.

6 If you have little learning while lacking the oral instructions, you become corrupted by being a commoner though your faith may be great.

7 A genuine practitioner who acts in accordance with the true teachings should liberate his being with intelligence, tame his mind with faith, cut misconceptions with listening to teachings, cast away social concerns, mingle his mind with the Dharma, perfect his knowledge with learning and reflecting, resolve his mind with the oral instructions, and gain final certainty through the view and meditation. That, however, is difficult."

~ Padmasambhava

[shadowlinktheshadow]

listen

i know im (probably) not the first to say that bullet time is botw link's champion ability

but what if we mixed the popular headcanon that botw link thinks hes not the same person as link from 100 years ago into it

what im saying is i dunno when or where (maybe after completing the trial of the sword) past link comes to current link in full "ur gonna get a champion ability" format and is all spirity and dead

and gives current link the bullet time ability (named like, idk "champion's timeflow" or something like that)

just been thinking about bullet time recently

[lunamagicablu]

Le anime sensibili hanno bisogno di riposo, pause, silenzio. Di ascoltarsi, di incontrarsi, di non sentirsi sole nella loro diversità. Hanno bisogno di bellezza, di armonia, di scambi autentici e profondi, di essenze pure, per ricaricarsi e poter così continuare a dare luce al mondo. Hanno bisogno di musica vera, di fiori, di alberi da abbracciare, di vivere con gli animali, di cantare, di ridere, di leggerezza. Hanno bisogno di fare ciò che amano, perchè è ciò per cui sono venute. Hanno bisogno di libri scritti con l'anima, di esprimere la loro voce nell'arte, come nell'azione, nella vita di ogni giorno. Hanno bisogno di fare ciò in cui credono, ciò che per loro ha davvero un senso, di fare dei loro pensieri le loro azioni, di coerenza fra ciò che sentono e ciò che mettono in pratica ogni giorno. Hanno bisogno di comunicare con tutte la creature, in modo libero e personale, di imparare a distinguere le voci delle loro Guide, degli antenati, degli spiriti liberi della Terra. Hanno bisogno di imparare a fidarsi, a leggere i segni, a distinguere le energie sottili della natura, degli elementi e di tutti gli esseri. Hanno bisogno di lottare e difendersi, quando è necessario, senza sensi di colpa, di imparare a schermarsi, a proteggersi, a dire no. Hanno bisogno di immedesimarsi nel vento, di farsi abbracciare dall'acqua, di scoprire i sentimenti dei cristalli, di scaldarsi ad ogni fuoco che incontrano, per riuscire ad equilibrare la loro emotività. Ma soprattutto, hanno bisogno di capire che la loro sensibilità è il loro vero, ancestrale, scintillante e indomabile potere. [Alessandra Pallanca] art by Urticaee ********************* Sensitive souls need rest, pauses, silence. To listen, to meet, not to feel alone in their diversity. They need beauty, harmony, of authentic and profound exchanges, of pure essences, to recharge and thus be able to continue to give light to the world. They need real music of flowers, of trees to embrace, to live with animals, to sing, to laugh, to be lighthearted. They need to do what they love, because that's what they came for. They need books written with the soul, to express their voice in art, as in action, in everyday life. They need to do what they believe in, what really makes sense to them, to make their thoughts their actions, of coherence between what they feel and what they practice every day. They need to communicate with all creatures, freely and personally, to learn to distinguish the voices of their Guides, of the ancestors, of the free spirits of the Earth. They need to learn to trust, to read the signs, to distinguish the subtle energies of nature, of the elements and of all beings. They need to fight and defend themselves, when it is necessary, without guilt, to learn to shield oneself, to protect oneself, to say no. They need to empathize with the wind, to be embraced by the water, to discover the feelings of crystals, to warm up at every fire they meet, to be able to balance their emotions. But most of all, they need to understand that their sensitivity it is their true, ancestral, sparkling and indomitable power. [Alessandra Pallanca] art by Urticaee

[bilbobagginsomebabez]

hate this stupid mirage designed to undermine fellow members of the queer community. fundamental fallacy in play here. individual men are not your oppressors--patriarchy is.

so the core of the terf belief system is that there is a bioessentialist Quality Of Men that makes them fundamentally an Oppressor who can never face marginalization, right? we disagree with that because we love trans people--both women and men. if men are Fundamentally Oppressors, you can't Change Genders. here's the thing. under the premise of "transmasculine oppression does not occur at any axis so they can't have this word", you have removed the bioessentialist aspect but still accepted that there is a Quality Of Men that innately makes them an Oppressor that can never face marginalization.

now the next logical step that we've taken from "men can never be oppressed or have a -phobia term" is that because the "base model" or cis men aren't oppressed and don't face what would hypothetically be "androphobia," trans men cannot create the term "transandrophobia" to describe their real experiences of pain and oppression. despite this weird semantic caveat, we both fully and entirely agree that trans men/mascs do face real oppression specifically due to being Trans Men/Mascs that is different in nature from the cruelty and oppression that Trans Women/Femmes face. so we fully agree that the phenomenon is real, but you and many others are for some reason saying they cannot have a word to describe it. they can't have a word to describe their real experiences because the "base model" doesn't face oppression and we hate the base model so much they specifically do not and can never have a -phobia word.

what is the point of this? who does this help?

it helps terfs keep trans mascs isolated is who it helps. i just. i think the toxicity of the idea is really represented in action right now. because we are talking about a group of men/masculine people who are actively specifically marginalized. they are telling us they are being targeted for detransition and conversion therapy. they are trying to tell us something and we aren't listening because we're playing semantic games over what words they're allowed to use. because they aren't oppressed enough to "be at an axis." in practice right now, it seems like "be at an axis" has turned into "have a real voice in the community." there needs to be room here, conversations where "trans masc" isn't a performative placeholder for "passing trans men," more fluid boundaries between "Man" and "Woman" and how people identified within those categories face marginalization, less hatred for Men and more love for queer life and liberation. not just to be inclusive of nonbinary people who also exist and face weird mixes of both of these real things--transandrophobia and transmisogyny-- but because right now we are denying solidarity to members of our community and limiting our own discussion and understanding in favor of forcing a Very Harassed Group Of Us to endlessly workshop the term over petty semantic grievances.

and I'm sorry but i really. just need us to collectively take a moment and reflect that the grievance is "this word could be broken down into another word we wouldn't like." and i don't really know what to do with that. there are a lot of good reasons to use the term "transandrophobia" not the least of which is because it's immediately descriptive under the language rules we all know (the marginalization/hate that trans men face) but because it fits in with all of the other queer terms--biphobia, homophobia, lesbophobia, aphobia, queerphobia--we generally went hard in terms of "phobia" terms. trans-andro-phobia seems perfectly reasonable to me to describe the hatred of trans men. i am really really sad that "'andro' can't be in a 'phobia' word because men can never be oppressed" became the dominant discourse on this because it really is just. mean. it's just mean-spiritied. 'misandry' already exists. if whatever you were scared of was gonna happen, it already would have. i really cannot comprehend the preferencing of some nebulous possible harm of "androphobia" over and above our ability to describe real problems facing members of our community.

again i ask you, who does this help? trans mascs are our community and they are being attacked brutally and quietly and we aren't talking about it because?? men can't be oppressed because they're not on an axis? they are asking us for solidarity. and they need it.

trans men are asking us to see that terfs weaponize murderous language against trans women but they are no less genocidal in their aims of targeting trans men and mascs for de-transition, conversion therapy, and corrective rape. "lost lesbians" and "lost daughters" and "irreversible damage" are rallying cries and money makers among the far right--they say "keep your daughters daughters, keep them in the ontological category of victim before they become a predator."

the hostility to the term transandrophobia because "men can't be oppressed" is the internalization of the terf belief that men are fundamentally and innately predators and oppressors instead of people reacting to their position under the system of patriarchy. it's a belief that never allows for the destruction of the patriarchy. it says you can never be a gender-traitor unless you're the right gender--a feminine gender (woman) fighting against the innately violent masculine onslaught (men). there are straight cis men who fight against toxic male gender norms and face violence for it, too. this model cannot articulate that violence beyond "homophobia" and it cannot articulate the violence against our trans brothers beyond "transphobia" and that is a failure. that is not ideological purity-- that is an active failure to real and living members of your community. we need to articulate it.

we have real members of our own community here asking us for help.

The nature of this site is that every few years there's some kind of "misandry is totally real guys" discourse that pops up from men (both cis and trans) who are either just misogynists or they have forgotten what the world outside of tumblr is like.

Every time people keep having to explain that no, actually misandry isn't a thing (and neither is androphobia which is just misandry but rebranded to sound more progressive) but this time apparently when you explain that misandry isn't real people will call you terfy even if you're transfem.

Like I get that this shit is mostly started by weird dickheads online but I've seen like actually otherwise cool people fall for it and like have you guys never been outside? Do you genuinely think that a few people in progressive spaces not liking men means men are oppressed or whatever? Do you not see how you're parroting right wing talking points? In real life men are still opressing women and the patriarchy is very much still a thing

[sentheiments]

Hi,

I’m once again back to drop my current sentiment. Its 12 in the midnight of Feb 7, 2023.

Is it just me or am I being a toxic friend/ disciple for wanting to distance myself from people who once was a good friend to me because I no longer find peace and at ease around them when it comes to matters in connection to spiritual journey. I know, long before these things built inside me, there are things from their perception, attitude, and character that I dont agree. However, in the long run, I find myself burning out in the process. Being so shallow about some things. I struggled about understanding grace and fresh encounter from the Lord. I feel like my spirit doesnt belong with these peopleI I no longer feel at ease to still listen and just accept things that goes against my beliefs and culture. I know I must honor the leader or any authority in this sense, but how can I do it when my own spirituality is also at stake? Not to mention mental health? I dont know anymore 😔 I love them but I need to fix myself with Jesus, First!

Gaslighting, indirectly manipulating people using God’s word to guilt trip — I dont know if others from my group can sense that or it is just me being overly sensitive. I know in my spirit that something is wrong about that leadership yet I stayed quite because I dont want to offend. I feel bad for wanting to be out of that group, I no longer find myself passionate in studying God’s word. It’s just all shallow revelation and I personally wanted more of Jesus. I’m not saying what we are doing is bad — it just that my spirit longs for someone who has the same fervency as mine to encounter the Lord. I dont know if this is selfishness, answer me Lord. I love each one of the ladies I am with right now, however my spirit longs for deeper things – things that will give me goosebumps every time we talk about our Lord Jesus. I dont want a just-for-fun-meet-ups. I want spirit-filled encounter as the Lord anoints us to speak life about one another. I miss my former VG where we truly express fresh revelation from the Lord not just another familiar revelation over and over again. I want to experience the gift of eternity, and I am not gonna limit myself in knowing God through infinite ways as long as I live so help me Lord Jesus. Tatay Holy SpiritI really need guidance and wisdom with this. I need anointing oh God. So help me.

[a-curious-studyblr]

Like a year ago on ebay I got my hands on the howls moving castle Japanese DVD cos it has the French dub on it and I watched it last night for listening practice (with english subs for this time, cos the french subs didnt match the spoken french D:), and French suited the movie so well!!! With the european-style town/clothing, howls dramatic crying at his hair changing colour with french sobbing, Sophie calling Marco "mon petit bonhomme" (my little guy), everyone calling sophie "mamie" for grandma😭

[storywestistrash]

ok but consider this: anders x someone but justice loves them more than anders does

[lessthansix]

i have to say, there’s something a bit funny about hitting the commendatore’s entrance just as one is sitting down to breakfast

[knightofpentacles]

been thinking a lot about the fact that i have a stronger belief in spirits and things whereas my bf believes more strongly in aliens

[angelgoddard]

can we talk about the phases of loa? like idk if anyone else went through it like i did but here's my personal ones

- running a sub channel while i was still into witchcraft 😭

- attempting to astral travel/project

- finding out about loa unintentionally (through angel's old main blog)

- researching the within community

- trying to figure out how to use witchcraft and loa together 💀

- trying to use certain aspects of witchcraft and spiritiality with loa, and giving them external power

- avoiding affirmations like "i am god" or "i am the creator"

- sending in desperate asks to blogs

- making my own private loa blog filled with limiting beliefs just in the pinned post

- making self concept affirmations that didn't use god in them

- constantly reacting to the 3d

- keeping altars up and writing in grimoires despite feeling guilty about it

- affirming for things and getting mad the second it didn't happen

- discovering self concept

- going anon on angel's old blogs and talking w her

- taking a week break from tumblr

- creating my own loa blog (this one) and posting affirmations that helped grow my acc

- finally taking things off the pedastal

- actually listening to neville lectures

- making that nikki maxwell post (iykyk)

- making posts more often on my blog

- answering my first ask (i felt so professional and smart)

- answering more asks and posting/reblogging

- investing in self concept

- manifesting things

- trying the void

- posting and answering asks even more, getting close to 1k followers

- realizing anything is possible and indulging in that assumption

- removing subliminals off the pedestal (this took forever 🤬)

- restarting my sub channel and basing it off loa only

- realizing how far i've come <3

[lunamagicablu]

Prima di scrivere, mi ritiro nel mio tempio segreto per meditare: è un bosco di alberi vecchi, abitato da spiriti antichi che ogni tanto escono dai tronchi e dalle pietre. È un luogo dove regna il silenzio, dove lame di luce tagliano l'ombra cupa del sottobosco e creano atmosfere magiche. Ieri, l'Entità selvaggia del tempio mi ha detto che devo fare qualcosa per svelare i segreti dei boschi a chi è disposto ad ascoltare. Mi ha confidato che sono ancora molte le persone che amano e rispettano gli abitanti della Natura.

È venuto il tempo di riscoprire la Natura e i suoi insegnamenti.

Giancarlo Ferron

**********************

Before writing, I retire to my secret temple to meditate: it is a forest of old trees, inhabited by ancient spirits who occasionally come out of the trunks and stones. It is a place where silence reigns, where blades of light cut the dark shadow of the undergrowth and create magical atmospheres. Yesterday, the wild entity of the temple told me that I must do something to reveal the secrets of the woods to those who are willing to listen. She confided to me that there are still many people who love and respect the inhabitants of Nature.

The time has come to rediscover Nature and her teachings.

Giancarlo Ferron

[shortkingzuko]

title: helpful hands and tender words

relationship: bato/hakoda

warnings: mentions of canon injuries/death

summary: 5 times bato and hakoda spoke their own love languages and the 1 time they spoke each other's

for the @bakodafleetweek prompt love languages (a day late lol)

read under the cut or on AO3 for full list of tags/notes

 -5

Bato had always been praised for being a helpful child; always helping his mother chew on leather so that it could be sewn, always carrying rope to and fro his father’s ship when asked, would always offer to help his older sister braid her hair. Once everyone, including himself, realized he was a boy, his helpfulness was taken out to the sea and out to hunt, and he proved that he could assist in knot tying, in packing supplies and their spoils, and in flaying the different animals that they caught. And at the end of the day, he and his brother and father would return home, tired, slick and shivering with sweat and sea spray, and as his father and brother collapsed by the fire, he would go up to his mother and ask if she wanted him to help stir the boiling pot of stew so that she could rest before dinner. Bato would never be accused of being an overly expressive person, and many of his loved ones described him as guarded and private. But every time he offered to help his mother, she would smile, place her wind-chapped hand on his face, before leaning down and whispering, “I know when you offer that you’re saying you love me.”

Bato had always blushed and swatted his mother’s hand away, before grabbing the spoon and dutifully stirring. But sometimes, when he rolled out of bed, hours earlier than necessary, pulling on his boots and coat before sneaking out to meet Hakoda, Bato wondered if his mother was right. Maybe he was trying to say something when he stayed up late repairing fishing nets, before going out on a canoe with both of them trying to tamper down their excitement as they hunted an octopus in the light of the early morning. Perhaps when he stood behind an igloo, trying to make his voice as scary as possible, he was trying to say something besides vague, spirity threats, in the hopes of frightening Kanna.

Maybe he was trying to say something every time he helped Hakoda play a prank on his family, every time he agreed to go out fishing with Hakoda instead of focusing on his own chores, every time that he stayed up late to help Hakoda study the ‘Chief Lessons’ that his dad had given him.

Bato heard his mother and father saying that they loved each other all his life, he heard his sister and her girlfriend whisper it to one another with pink cheeks, and his brother say it to more than a few girls and boys than their village really allowed. Bato could probably count on one hand how many times he had said those words himself, the words getting stuck in his throat in embarrassing ways. It seemed that Hakoda had no expressing it to others, always throwing affection around so casually, always so flippant with the words that seemed to choke Bato.

Never towards him, of course, but what else did he expect? Bato could never say the words that he was certain he felt, but he could still show Hakoda, he thought. He could get up early to go fishing, and he could help him on hunts, and he could lie to their parents so that Hakoda wouldn’t get in as much trouble as he really ought to have. Bato would lighten the load that pressed down on Hakoda’s shoulders. And maybe one day, Hakoda would understand what it meant.

 -4

Hakoda could never keep his hands to himself. He was forever reaching out to touch weapons, jewelry, animals and furs that everyone had to swat his hands away from. Every week he would come home, hands red and chapped, because he took off his mittens outside to handle something and got too distracted to put them back on. His mother would tut, before smoothing balm onto his tender, dry skin, berating him for being so childish  when he was almost a man!  and for never learning to keep his gloves on and his hands to himself.

It never seemed to stop him though. Every time Hakoda saw something pretty or saw something that made his heart quicken, he yearned to hold it, to pet it, to gently cradle it in his hands. It was such second nature to him, that he barely realized when he was slipping his mittens off to brush a loose strand of hair out of Bato’s face, as they were leaning over an ice fishing hole.

Bato startled at the sudden touch but his expression returned to one of pleasant neutrality when Hakoda tucked the loose hair behind his ear, making sure not to jostle the newly implanted bone piercing that poked through the skin.

“Thanks, Koda,” Bato said, before looking back at their unmoving fishing poles. Hakoda nodded and though he looked back at their poles as well, his eyes kept flickering back to Bato’s face, the sharp lines of his cheekbones, the curve of his nose, and the plumpness of his lips. Hakoda left his hand out of his glove, and though the cold bit at his skin, he just held it in his lap, as he waited for the strands to fall out of their tucked hiding place again.

As they sat there for the next few hours, catching just enough fish to consider the trip successful, Bato’s hair fell out of place a few more times, just infrequent enough that he couldn't be bothered to retie it. Each time Hakoda waited a few minutes, before casually reaching up to smooth it back. Bato’s hair was thick with just a slight wave to it. Hakoda couldn't tell whether the roughness he felt was from his own hand or from his friend’s salt-dry hair, but it felt comforting, grounding, and had a familiar coarseness that Hakoda found ever so pleasing - so similar, and yet so different than Kya’s smooth curls.

It’s only when he gets home and his mom is berating him for removing his gloves again - without even a thank you for the fish! - that Hakoda realized that he was perfectly capable of touching Bato's hair back without removing his mittens, and questions why he didn’t just leave his gloves on.

He thinks he knows the answer, but he doesn’t much feel like dwelling on it.

 -3

Sokka and Katara were a handful; a joyous, beautiful, and well-loved handful, but a handful none-the-less. Sokka’s was at the age where it seemed like he’s always awake, always trying to put things in his mouth, and is always full of energy (until he was tired, at which point he would simply flop to the ground, taking naps in the most inconvenient of places). Katara, on the other hand, had only just started her feeble attempts at crawling, to the absolute excitement of Sokka, and to the pride and fear of Kya and Hakoda. Often, though, after a few minutes of scrabbling around on the floor, unable to make any headway to her desired destination, she would pout and cry, pointing at where she wanted to be until someone helped her there. Kya and Hakoda often left their igloo with bags under their eyes and smiles on their faces, with Kya holding one of their children in the back of her amauti, and Hakoda hiding the other in the front of his parka, their tiny face barely visible through the neck hole.

Bato had never felt so much happiness as he did when he saw his friends lovingly hold their children, and when Hakoda and Kya first passed their swaddled up babies to him to hold, whispering in their children’s ears, “This is Bato, sweetheart, this is Bato, he’s going to take care of you.” Bato wasn't afraid to admit he did shed a tear.

Surprisingly, the time he was able to spend with Hakoda barely decreased, as Bato started to offer his assistance in taking care of the kids and helping Kya and Kanna around the house. Some of the other men in the village looked at him with strange yet knowing glances, eyebrows raised, as Bato threw himself into helping another couple’s children instead of focusing on getting a husband and having children of his own. Bato knew that if he made himself available, if he stopped deflecting any conversation that led to the question of ‘ Would you allow someone to court you’, if he stopped spending all the time that he didn’t have at Hakoda’s, then he probably would be able to find someone that wanted to date him, love him, who would want to try and have kids with him, biological or not.

Bato knew this and still choose to tell Hakoda and Kya that he was able to watch Sokka and Katara for the night, so that they could get some rest, instead of going and drinking around a bonfire with men who looked at him with desperate eyes.

He bathed and fed and rocked Katara - and then Sokka because he felt left out, even though he was getting a little too old for it - to sleep, tucking them underneath his warmest furs, before making sure that their clothes were clean for tomorrows wear. Both of them woke up multiple times in the night, and each time demanded Bato’s full attention until they drifted off to sleep. (Bato allowed himself to have a moment of selfishness, as he imagined a future where his own children could be sleeping next to Sokka and Katara, a child with his nose and height, with hair slightly lighter than his own and a sense of humour that-

Bato cut the thought off before it could go too far. It wasn't worth it to dwell on impossibilities like that, and while many men in the village could relate to Bato's angst of being the last of his family line - now that his older brother had passed in one of the recent raids - he knew that that wasn't the drive of these fantasies.)

    The next day Bato emerged from his igloo with tired eyes and a soft smile as he passed Katara and Sokka back to a well-rested Hakoda and Kya. They laughed as Bato told him about his evening, and Kya gave him a side-hug in thanks. Hakoda reached up to place a mitten covered hand on Bato’s arm, gave it a squeeze, as he proceeded to tell Bato about their plans and duties for the day. Bato nodded along, waved vaguely at Kya as she led her children away, listening intently to Hakoda, until he finished speaking, at which point he removed his hand. Bato didn’t care if his feelings for Hakoda were never returned, or even noticed by the man. Seeing Hakoda smile without it turning into a yawn for the first time in weeks was reason enough to push past any feelings of sadness and help him, seeing Kya’s delighted reunion with her children - even if they were only separated for a few hours - was enough to solidify his feelings of friendship and respect for her.

Bato knew that his reasons for his servitude for Hakoda were selfish; they were driven by his own hopes that by helping him cook just one more meal, helping him tie one more knot, helping him catch just one more fish would commune what he felt for him, with no illusions of reciprocity. It never did, but at some point, Bato stopped being disappointed and just started looking for the next opportunity, without any expectations.

 -2

Hakoda always found a reason to touch Bato, now that they were off at war. Whether it was on the ship, with him placing an unnecessary hand on his back to steady him, or at a campfire, where he would squeeze next to Bato on a log that was much too short and bump knees with him, or when they shared a tent and Hakoda would pile all their belongings up to one side so that when he moved in the night, his hand would eventually find Bato’s chest, feel it rise and fall in steady motions. Sometimes when Hakoda would wake up before Bato, he would leave his hand there for a few more minutes, basking in the warmth of his friend’s body on the palm of his hand, the muscle underneath strong but relaxed, as he watched the slightly rounded outline of Bato’s chest move, shallower and faster until he was almost awake, before removing his hand. Hakoda knew it was irrational to be scared of Bato dying in the night, something much less likely than Bato dying in battle, or falling overboard or any other number of horrible ends that could befall on him. But seeing his companion sleeping, seeing the worry lines of his face smooth out, his hair flopping over his eyes, and body in such an open and calm position, made Hakoda smile, but also stressed him out. Sleep was when they were their most vulnerable, even with the multiple warriors keeping watch at all times, he couldn’t shake the worry. He knew that if the Fire Nation attacked during the night, if they managed to take out the guards, and if they managed to set the camp ablaze, there was little he could do, just waking up from sleep. But if something were to happen to Bato in the night - whether it was an ailment or nightmare - Hakoda would be able to feel it, would feel the shutter in his chest, or the rapid beating of his heart and he could do  something to ease Bato back into a pleasant slumber.

Hakoda knew that Bato must have been aware of his tendency to reach for him during the night, as Bato often arose before Hakoda, but he never brought it up. Hakoda didn’t know whether to be relieved that he was saved from the embarrassment or disappointed at being robbed of the chance to speak about his reasoning.

Hakoda was almost sure of what his reasoning was, after so many years of pondering. But Bato never asked, never pushed, never reached over to join hands with Hakoda, and though he always smiled and was pleasant in the face of Hakoda’s affection, he never initiated or returned it with such gusto.

Hakoda allowed himself to have the few minutes of the morning, with his hand on Bato’s chest, his evenings pressed against his sides, and his days with steadying hands on his back.

 -1

The scars on Bato’s arm and torso limited his mobility. Though he could get the joints and skin to loosen up with the help of copious amounts of salve and massaging, they would soon tighten, leaving him slightly off-balanced as he tried to learn his new limits, and how to push them.

It left him with objects being continuously being taken out of his hands, with people always trying to ferry him away from the hard manual labour needed to rebuild their village, and with people much shorter than him constantly stretching up to reach things for him that  he placed on the tallest shelf for a reason. It left him angry and huffy, annoyed at how his fellow tribe members saw him after his return from prison and war. It reminded him of being a child, before his growth spurt, before the village, outside of his family and Hakoda, took him seriously as a man, always smiling in a condensing way before plucking weapons out of his hand.

“I want to help,” Bato said to Hakoda, frustration clear in his voice. “There’s plenty I can do, even if my arm seizes up.”

“I know, Bato-”

“If you know, then you’ll let me do something.”

Hakoda met his glare with a raised eyebrow. After a few seconds, Bato huffed and rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest, ignoring the slight pulling sensation it caused. Hakoda grinned as if he won something.

“I know you want to help, Bato, and I’m not trying to stop you from helping, but it’s clear that you’re trying to bite off more than you can chew.”

“How?”

“You tried to go seal-bass fishing yesterday, by yourself.”

“So?”

“Supposing you caught a fish, would you have been able to carry a hundred-pound fish, plus your gear, back?” Hakoda levelled his gaze. Bato huffed again, letting his arms drop from their crossed position.

“I just hate not being able to do anything.” Bato looked at his friend. “I hate not being able to help you.”

And that was as close to an outright confession as Bato could bring himself, with him and Hakoda growing, not necessarily closer, but more intimate. Despite Bato’s igloo being rebuilt, he still spent many nights at Hakoda’s, ate dinner around his table, and still found himself close to his side any chance he got. The freedom of being home had resulted in Bato growing more attached to Hakoda, instead of relishing in the distance that ships and tents and camps did not allow.

Hakoda looked at him, and his smug look dropped slightly and was replaced with one of affectionate worry.

“There are ways to help me besides hurting yourself,” Hakoda chided, playfully. “You are not the only hunter in the village, Bato, others can catch fish for both of us. You can help me by taking care of yourself.”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Bato replied. Hakoda sighed and beckoned Bato to come closer. He complied, lowering himself to where Hakoda sat at his kotatsu. Hakoda pulled him so that his face was pressed against Hakoda’s strong shoulders. Bato sighed into the warm skin of Hakoda's neck.

“Fine, if you want to do something besides take some time off - which some people would kill for, by the way - you can help me read over all these trade proposals.”

Bato pulled himself away from Hakoda, looked at him for a moment, searching for any condensation or pity, before nodding and situating himself at the table, adjacent to Hakoda. He felt Hakoda bump his knee with his own.

“Get a load of this proposal,” Hakoda said after a few minutes of silence, shoving a scroll under Bato’s nose. “Aren’t all these taxes  tariff- ful!” Hakoda barked at a laugh at his own joke. Bato groaned. “You know it would help me if you laughed at my jokes.”

“Maybe I don’t want to help you that much after all.”

 +1

In the months since Bato and Hakoda began their official 'courtship', more tentative and slow than anyone expected of them, considering their long friendship and history, they found that while they were often on the same page about nearly everything, they had a more difficult time in expressing their newly actualized romantic feelings for each other.

While Hakoda was prepared to hold Bato in public, wrap his arms around Bato’s slim waist, to pull him down for kisses and caresses, Bato was more reserved in public, happy and most comfortable when they limited their affection to simple handholding and the occasional cheek kisses. Even bunny kisses reduced the taller man to a blushing mess, often shoving Hakoda away forcefully in his flustering.

They never seemed to need long conversations about most aspects of their lives - be it work, dinner, whose house they were going to move into (Bato had pretty much already moved in with Hakoda and his children) - yet they both still found themselves stuttering over the words that they both knew they felt for each other. Privately, Hakoda felt that he had a decent excuse - he hadn’t had a relationship or had said those words in a romantic setting since Kya.

Privately, Bato thought his excuse was better since he hadn’t said the words in a romantic sense at all, since he was always saving them for Hakoda.

So, they fumbled their way out of conversations were those words would crop up, though they tried desperately to make the other understand anyways.

It was a summer morning, the sun had already been out for days, when Hakoda found Bato sitting cross-legged, fumbling in front of a mirror on the floor, his right hand tangled in his hair and making noises of frustration.

“What’s up?” He asked, watching at Bato turned slightly, his hair not yet tied up and slightly knotted from his fight with it. Bato held up a thin leather cord.

“I can’t tie my hair up,” He said simply, not bothering to mention why. Hakoda already knew that his arm had been stiff lately, the slight increase in sun exposure making the skin tender and making him avoid massaging his joints.

“Want some help?”

“It’s fine, Koda, I’ll figure it-”

“Let me help.” Hakoda interrupted, already walking towards him. Bato fell silent as he looked up at his partner, turning to face the mirror and watch him through that when Hakoda sank to his knees behind him. “I want to help you.”

“Okay.” Bato’s voice came out soft and gentle, as he held up the hair tie. Hakoda took it and placed it on the floor, reaching over to grab a comb instead.

Hakoda raked it through Bato’s thick hair, revelling in the feeling of the strands passing under his fingers as he smoothed over them after each stroke. He worked carefully, undoing the knots that Bato’s previous attempts caused, and admiring the streaks of grey that were scattered throughout the otherwise dark mass.

He looked in the mirror and saw that Bato had closed his eyes and that his cheeks had taken on a slight flush. As he ceased his movements to admire his partner, Bato opened his eyes again and made contact with Hakoda’s through the glass. They stared at each other for a few moments, and slowly Bato reached towards Hakoda’s free hand and held it. He gave it a tentative squeeze and Hakoda smiled.

Bato smiled back, letting go and closing his eyes again. Hakoda resumed combing until Bato’s hair was a silky curtain. Instead of just tying it back, as Bato often did as of late, he began to braid a few strands together, holding the finished pieces between his pinky and ring finger, before gathering the rest of the hair needed to complete Bato’s wolf tail. When he was done, he ran his hands over his work, making sure everything laid flat and that it wasn’t too tight, and to relish in the feeling of intimacy that the two had garnered.

Bato reached to grab Hakoda’s wrist, pulling him down so that Hakoda was giving the man a loose back hug. Hakoda buried his face in the crook of Bato’s neck, feeling him lace his fingers with Hakoda's, lifting one hand up to place a soft kiss on the rough knuckles.

He looked up into the mirror again, smiling when he caught Bato’s eye, and both of them knew what the other was trying to say.

[azu1as]

So i juts a dream about an ATLA AU that may or may not exists, but sleepy me called it the “sensible Aang AU and all I have about it is this highly specific scene and a bit of background. So apparently Aang gets captured by Zuko somewhere in the earth kingdom, but it’s on suspicions of being the avatar rather then Aang actually being the avatar (I’ll explain later) and Zuko starts interrogating him, but apparently sang prepared for this because he’s got a HUGE long ass Story that (1/4)

It’s exactly lies, but it’s not the whole truth. See Aang has been going around doing spirity stuff to help the world in small ways before going after Ozai, and he tells Zuko about all that, which can be written off as someone having a lot of bad luck with spirits. The story is long and boring and Aang expects Zuko to get board or impatient and release him but he just *doesn’t* because Zuko is a very determined bby. So a few hours of straight interrogation later, Iroh comes in like (2/4)

(3/4) is missing kskzks i think tumblr ate it up

“Nephew why don’t you have some tea with me before bed?” Which is Iroh subtly telling Zuko interrogation time is over and he listens to him for some reason and leaves Aang alone but doesn’t free him. I have no idea what happens next but I do have a ton of background. So Aang apparently got freed early and never met Sokka and Katara. He’s around Zuko’s age and has spent the last 4 years causing Trouble for the formation. He’s also apparently already mastered fire and water, and I Mean Like (4/4)

Mastered mastered, not “mastered” like in the show. He’s still getting the hang of the avatar state, and has been busy doing spirit shenanigans all over the earth kingdom and more or less flying under the radar. Zuko is the first time he’s been caught. This older, slightly Jaded Aang decides after the second day of him basically telling Zuko stories, that he’s gonna be Zuko’s friend. That’s all and it’s based off of a dream I had and i needed to tell someone sorry for blowing up your inbox (5/4)

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I love how your dream ended up as a whole ass au. You should hammer out some of the details and write something for this!! I'd read it ¯\ _(ツ)_/¯

Also blow up in my inbox anytime you want HAHAHA

[magixwitch]

Who would the server date in the specialists

@solariasbitch with Nabu, because she has problems expressing her emotions but she appreciate warm people, and Nabu is warm, also he is very smart so they could easily have some more philosophical and intellectual conversations she would love!

@bitchatcloudtower with Riven, they would probably have a terrible influence on the other but I couldn’t see bitch dating anybody else lmao, also bitch is actually quite chill and i think she could handle Riven with sarcasm and passive-agressiveness

@fireburningdeepinside with Sky because she would help him getting his shit together and do something useful (forgive me burning, you can do better anyway)

@everythingpuddle with Brandon because i think he’s very caring and would make sure she doesn’t overload herself with work and she would make her feel valued and special, and he’s also so fun and Puddle loves people who make her laugh (that’s why she loves me!!)

@itsalifefullofstuff with Helia because she would understand Helia’s poetic spirity, she would be supportive and encourage him to open up more, also i feel Life is a person who needs to kinda let feelings out and Helia is a good listener.

I’m gay. But i would date Nex when i want to have some fun with someone who’s just as an asshole as i am and Timmy when i need someone to stop me from making terrible life decisions