#real intimacy

[venuskind]

Life’s strangest paradox may be this: love arrives precisely when you no longer bend or break in your quest to find it. It comes not as you plead or strain but in the quiet radiance of self-reclamation. You no longer barter tenderness for loyalty nor compromise your integrity for fleeting passion or devotion. You cease bargaining with your soul and stop paying the toll of self-sacrifice to stay close to another's warmth. Instead, you build a sanctuary within, where self-respect becomes the cornerstone and independence your unwavering fire.

And then, like a sudden spring rain, love appears—not a love born of need, but of a shared strength that no longer seeks to devour or control. In your stillness, your partner is drawn closer, no longer resisting the pull of desperation but softening, opening, and sensing the freedom in your wholeness. It’s not by chance. When we release the chorus of “Stay, or I will fall apart,” we liberate ourselves and our lovers from the grip of emotional debt. True reciprocity, real love, only flowers in the soil of freedom, where no one is bound to another by chains of expectation.

In reclaiming your self-worth, you offer one last invitation to real intimacy. Either love begins to breathe again, flourishing in mutual respect, or the relationship based on clinging and fear must quietly fade. The highest form of love, paradoxically, can only come when you no longer cling to love—when you release it, even as it returns to you like the sweetest echo of all you once dreamed.

~ Katie Kamara

[msexplorer]

[dumblr]

Everybody so full of lust, bring back real lovers.

[p-assionateheart]

[mayabishopgold]

Maya & Carina | Station 19 - 7x09 "How Am I Supposed to Live Without You?"

Okay, now, where were we?

[alwaysshipping1]

Great piece!

There are so many nuggets that need to be addressed! The NOTEBOOK, Syd’s TATTOOS, the PAUPIETTE OF HAMACHI, the SCRUNCHIE, and countless others.

I truly hope these threads aren’t left dangling!

Her notebook

These musings/ predictions came to mind a long time ago while I was plotting a fic and was gonna use this resource but then I decided against it and went in a different direction instead.

My theory about this mysterious notebook that disappeared, which is in the Storer universe NOT an accident, obviously, is that it's gonna make a comeback when he confesses what her really feels for her to her, to her face, and deals with the consequences of this confession that are gonna alter their dynamic completely and for good.

Let me explain:

Carmy found out (officially) he had feelings for Syd right after she quit because at that point he realized he didn't want to do this without her (which he told her a few months later, he let that brew inside for a long while first) BUT since he is convinced that everything he loves, he breaks or gets ruined somehow (thanks Donna, thanks Michael) he quickly 86ed that realization and tried to move on till Syd came back.

But once she did, he backtracked and embraced his feelings for her, although he decided to put them in the freezer to later, little by little, open up to her and see if she'd take him after he won her over by sharing his dream with her.

GIF by @volvaaslaug

Notice that at this point the star was not in the equation, he was just giving her all he got and trusting her fully, that was his way of showing her what she meant to him. He was not trying to give her what SHE WANTED, but what he had to share. At that point, he only had a dream, the dream he had once shared with Mikey, so that's what he gave her, his most valuable emotional and tangible asset.

Why did he hold on to it as if it was something precious?

In the meantime, he held on to her notebook (AKA: her handwriting), especially when he didn't even know she was ever going to come back to him because that notebook represents HER. IT'S TANGIBLE/ PHYSICAL REPRESENTATION OF THE MOMENT WHEN HE STARTED HAVING FEELINGS FOR HER. MISSING HER EVEN, BECAUSE HE THOUHT AT THAT POINT HE HAD LOST HER. Her notebook was a memento of the girl he fell for, and then turned into a secret totem of the woman he loves, that he keeps to this day, in an undisclosed place.

Just like he keeps his feelings for her, under lock & key, in secret.

But then came the detour and he forgot about it for a while. The easy way out.

That decision he made of "saving his confession for later" in the freezer, ended up backfiring on him when the C person came along though, because he started transferring and sublimating his undealt with feelings for Syd onto this ER resident. The easy way out.

HOWEVER:

His love language is still PHYSICAL → GIFTS, TANGIBLE DISPLAYS OF AFFECTION.

So, that's why he holds on to her notebook. It's tangible proof of the Syd he fell in love with and never dared to persue.

And when that changes, next season, HER NOTEBOOK WILL MAGICALLY REAPPEAR.

Bonus track: If this had never happened, her notebook would be all he had left of her.

[syrupbitee]

free my boy from his own show he did nothing wrong

[booasaur]

Special Ops: Lioness - First and last kisses

[alwaysshipping1]

This scene… the intimacy of it all… they better not be gaslighting us… you absolutely cannot tell me this is platonic.

Body Language and words- Sydney, during the table scene- everything he said hit her-I wouldn't even want to do it without you. She slows down, looks up, and pauses. I'm sorry, this is more than work; his words caught her attention...

I don't even think what he was saying to a business partner was hitting Carmy on what it could mean; he was just being honest and speaking from the heart.

"I won't let you." More words from Carmy catch Sydney by surprise, and she realizes she can feel his gaze this time. Did she always notice Carmy staring at her throughout the show, or is this a new? His stare was intense—he wanted her to meet his eyes in that moment. More eye contact- more left unsaid where Sydney holds his gaze and where he needs to look away. That staring into each other's eyes- they were catching up to the vibes and had to break eye contact.

This is a favorite when his breathing slows down at Sydney's expression - like she's taking his breath away, and he's almost frozen. Does she look taken aback? But after that, she's touched by his words - that she's not alone and promises him the same thing.

Fx is right- it was love, intimacy, and devotion spoken between them.

Note: Carmy, you shouldn’t say all those sweet nothings: You make me better at this; I wouldn’t even want to do it without you. You’re not alone, Syd. All of those words were spoken by Carmy, who, just 12 to 16 hours ago, confirmed with Richie that he had a girlfriend. He later told Fak that he liked her, but not that he loved her.

So it's confirmed for us that Carmy isnt in love with Claire- only likes her.

And the next scene as Sydney and Carmy fix the table, was intentionally written to leaves us questioning whether there is love between Sydney and Carmy (not like).

[lavendermin]

hostess club au with hostess reader and jing yuan who is a regular that always asks for you because you naturally carry a pleasant conversation with him. Both steadily becoming too attached to the other, borderline crossing the cordial hostess-patron boundaries.

You’re practically sitting on his lap, yet it’s not inherently sexual. It’s comfortable and quite tame as you both have some light banter and casual conversations that flow and continue without end. As if you’d been friends for centuries.

Being a favorite for Feixiao too… squished between both of them in the quaint little booth as you chat and sip on bubbly drinks for hours on end

[elvisqueso]

Character Parallels: this very specific way of being in each others' space.

Pocahontas (1995) [+ Extended Edition]

[elsecrytt]

masochist gojo. gojo who's in love with pain, so much that it feels like pleasure, he can barely distinguish between the two anymore.

gojo who's so starved for touch. who's had an infinite space between himself and the whole world for so long, for so many years, every day in and day out.

gojo who's survived off glancing presses when a barista hands him a coffee, the rare hug from his students (who are mostly orphans) that he can't bring himself to decline.

gojo who craves more but can't bring himself to accept it except in fleeting moments with strangers or students.

his hands that long to be held. he wants it so bad that he teases a cursed spirit, laces his fingers with its own, right before he utterly crushes the being in battle, untouchable all over again.

gojo whose skin is hungry for someone else's. he hasn't felt the warmth of a hand in his own in so long. not since - since his youth.

gojo who sometimes wishes he could get hit. who sees the impact of curse techniques on his infinity and feels a wild, strange desire for them to go straight through and strike him.

he imagines it, vividly, being impaled by a long spear (inverted spear) that goes straight through him. how it would lance his flesh so cleanly.

being struck so hard, across the face, in the stomach, enough to knock the wind out of him.

enough to feel it with his whole body.

gojo who wants to be touched so bad he doesn't even care if it hurts anymore. infinity couldn't protect him from geto's betrayal.

gojo who keeps infinity up not because he doesn't want to get hit, but because he's terrified of what he might do when it happens.

gojo who got hard whenever geto sparred with him. he still doesn't know if it was because of geto, or because he had no infinity back then, no way to block the strikes.

he dreams of his youth. bruises littering his pale, pretty form like kisses, proof that he was human, there, that there was someone who could reach him.

dark purple things that turned pretty colors as they healed. he remembers pressing into them, relishing the hurt, feeling like he was getting hit (touched, reached, connected) all over again.

nothing ever touches him again. not like that. not like anything.

he never feels it. he never feels anything.

satoru gojo who wants, so very very badly, to feel something.

pain is a choice for him, always a choice. he alone has the privilege of deciding whether or not anything can touch him.

he could try to let more strangers touch him. one night stands, discreet arrangements. he had a pretty face and a body to match. there was no shortage of willing partners.

he lets them touch him, lets them hurt him. lets them drool over his body and use it at their leisure. they tell him he's beautiful, and he believes them.

white hair, blue eyes, sprawled out with a lean, unmarred body full of bare flesh for them to bite and scratch and bruise. he finds people who will do it, do it hard, fuck him up until he's lost entirely in the feeling of being touched, having someone against him, with him, above him.

it makes him feel like a piece of meat. it makes him feel good.

or he thinks it does, anyways.

sometimes, when he's gone particularly long without sleep, when his partner has gone particularly hard, he gets a real rush.

heart racing out of his chest. a cold sweat that overwhelms him. breaths coming in labored gasps. he can heal himself, he's physically fine, so this must all be in his head.

he acknowledges that information, distantly, like it's not happening to him. it doesn't help.

it feels like part of his body has been ripped away from him, something vital and important, and it's about to get up and run away.

always, always, it happens when his partner is no longer touching him. when he lays alone in the sheets, by his own volition, because of course these partners are not meant to be attachments.

love is not a privilege, though, not for the strongest sorcerer. it's a curse.

it's the only curse which infinity cannot protect him from.

so gojo stays untouchable. distant.

but the hunger doesn't go away. never.

he likes to imagine that suguru swallowed this one last curse before he died. something sweet and bitter, like losses at the arcade, sunny days at the beach, walking together with shoko, nanami, haibara.

but even suguru couldn't have absorbed this curse. it's in his bones, deep, longing and wanting even after he's dead and gone.

gojo is hungry. he is so, so hungry. and he has nothing to eat that will not leave him just as empty as before.

touch-starved. love-starved. pain-craving.

if someone could hurt him then it wouldn't matter that he was terrified of attachment. they could latch onto him, into his heart, under his skin. bury themselves in his chest like they belonged.

they could kill a hundred and twelve people and it wouldn't matter, because he wouldn't be able to kill them.

gojo is hungry, so hungry.

please feed him.

[ingravinoveritas]

Some absolutely stunning new pictures of David in Macbeth.

[casualavocados]

Are you really Chen Yi? I'm not dreaming, am I? You can try and prove it.

KISEKI: DEAR TO ME Ep. 12

[bloggingboutburgers]

It feels like you're being kind of self infantilizing when you draw yourself all small and cute and then talk about how you don't kiss your partner with tongue. I don't know. It just feels weird and almosy creepy. We're not children. Why do we have to act like such children when it comes to intimacy and how we represent ourselves?

Well, that definitely isn't the goal. I always draw all of my characters on the small side, and it's kinda accidental but I ended up drawing myself short because my partner is on the short side, and it just turned out to be a body type that I associate with nice things, so it just... Happened when I was looking for a character to draw myself as. Didn't even hit me it was out of me liking how my partner looks and that I basically "stole" their looks til like... Months later somehow. I'm lucky it doesn't upset them 🙈

Also uh... Sorry I don't wanna stick my tongue in someone's mouth and that it took me a while to be comfortable with kissing on the mouth at all? ...Nah, wait, actually I'm not sorry, that's just who I am and that's my experience, just like other aces are down to tongue-kiss. Everyone has different experiences and everyone's deserves to be seen and heard for what it is, not what it should represent. And each of them are valid, needless to say.

Lastly, I'm pretty freaking open when it comes to me being over 30. I have "very old" in my bio because it feels like that's how that age range is perceived online, and I've drawn several comics about how I don't like to be infantilized, and how it's important that I'm open about my age because it shows orientation isn't a "phase". So... Yeah. Obviously. We're not children. But I of all people don't need to be told that, thanks.

[thoughtfulchaos773]

We didn't get many soft stares from Carmy this season, except for this particular scene. Sydney could definitely feel his eyes on her, and we were focused on his face for a long time. He was stoic, but his eyes were saying so many things.

Sadness. Desperation. Love. Fear. Guilt. Being trapped. Oh, and tiny, tiny movement where he looks away! I'm left wondering all that he wanted to say, and I hope the payoff is worth it.