comfortable decks

Kim Jongdae//Collision Course - Part 1

Originally posted by sooranghaes

Summary: You were the typical girl with big dreams who moved to the city as soon as she had the chance, and somehow ended up in the wrong part of town - but you somehow manage to get swept up in an entirely different situation than you’d planned. (1/ 2/ 3/ 4/ 5)
Scenario: mafia!AU/hacker!AU
Word Count: 7,641

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Ideal witcher nest:

Witchers totally pick places to nest, don’t lie to yourself. They pick a room and just… put their things everywhere. 

  • About 50 blankets
  • one small exit and entrance
  • so much food and snacks hidden away everywhere
  • books
  • weapons hidden everywhere you expect
  • a nice fire or stove where the best blanket and mattress is to enjoy the heat
  • clean clothes
  • so many socks
  • armor and weapon repair and cleaning kits
  • their favorite things (gifts from people they care about, impressive trophies, trinkets or small pieces of things they picked up on the Path that interested them)
  • 50 pillows
  • weapons hidden where you don’t expect them (but still, you are not surprised)
  • a very organized box of herbal teas
  • armor and weapon diagrams stuffed away in a secret container
  • gold also somewhere out of sight
  • blankets you realize that are made from monster hides (griffin fur is actually really soft)
  • Bonus points: your witcher was in the room the entire time and you didn’t even see him
Shuffling Your Tarot Deck

It took me forever to learn to shuffle like this, but now that I have it’s my favorite way to bond with my deck before (and after!) a reading. It’s also easier on the cards than spreading them out on the table, or poker shuffling the smaller decks. All the videos I’ve found for this technique go way too fast, so I’ve gif’d it one bit at a time. 

Hold your deck in your non-dominant hand lengthwise, fingers on the bottom card’s face and thumb on the top card back. 

With your dominant hand, put your thumb and middle finger on the short edges on the deck, with the bottom card’s edge lining up approximately with your first knuckle. 

Grab that knuckle’s worth of cards and separate it from the rest of the deck (now called the main deck). 

Let the main deck lean against your fingers as you bring the other cards over to the thumb side. Let the top card in your dominant hand slide off to land in your nondominant hand, on top of the main deck. 

It’s okay if the cards come off in pairs and groups of five or ten instead of one at a time. Practice will help with that, but it also depends on how new your deck is and whether the cards are matte or glossy. 

Now let the main deck lean against your thumb, and bring the other cards over to the fingers side. Let top card(s) slide off to land on the bottom of the main deck. 

Bring the other cards to the thumb side of the main deck, and repeat. 

When you run out of the smaller stack, grab another bunch of cards like you did in the second gif and do it again!

It looks incredibly flashy and professional when you really get going. You will drop cards and that will lead to reversals, and maybe even some cards landing face up that you might want to keep out as significators in your reading. 

Now, the other side of shuffling is something I’ve seen people ask about pretty frequently: how long do I shuffle? Conventional advice is “until you feel like you’ve shuffled enough” or “when your deck says so,” but what if you don’t feel anything and you’ve been shuffling for ages? What if your deck doesn’t really communicate that way? Good news, friend…

You Can Ritualize That!

When one of my decks wasn’t telling me when to stop shuffling, I made shuffling a part of the spread. If I was doing a three card spread, I shuffled three times. For a Celtic cross spread, I’d shuffle ten times. And so on. I told myself that my deck would push its message to the top in that amount of time, and it did. Every time. It took a lot of the second guessing out of the process and allowed me to concentrate fully on the reading. 

As I’ve gotten more comfortable with my decks I’ve moved away from that somewhat, but I still go back to it if I’m not feeling a pull to stop shuffling in a particular reading. 

Feel free to message me if you have any questions or add commentary to this post! I hope it was helpful!

Settling Down

Jonerys Week 2k17 Day 1: Fluff

It’s mostly fluff. Really. (Also: long time no see?) 

AU where Jon and Dany decide to leave Westeros after the Battle for the Dawn and settle in the house with the red door to raise their children in peace. 

They were all up early that day.

Rhaenyra was up first; she was always an early riser and she liked to sit on the balcony off their rooms that looked out at the harbor and watch the fishermen take their boats out to the sea. But today she was up earlier than normal-and she woke Daeron up and he started fussing and then they were all up.

Today they would be going home.

“Tell me about the house again,” Rhaenyra said as they broke their fast on slow roasted clams and fruit that was just slightly overripe and burst with flavor in their mouths. “Is it big?”

“It’s not as big as the manse in Lys, but…you’ll like it. There’s a view of the canals outside every window.” Dany ran the brush through Rhaea’s unruly mop of blonde hair; it always seemed to tangle when she slept.

“And I’ll get my own bedroom?” They’d all had to share one bedroom for a time when they were in Norvos and Rhaenyra had never recovered.

“Of course.”

Rhaea nodded, satisfied. “How many windows does it have?”

“One in every room. On nice nights we can leave them open and you’ll be able to hear the moonsingers singing from your bedroom.”

She considered that for a moment. “Is there still a lemon tree?”

“No, but we can plant another one.” Rhaenyra nodded, apparently satisfied, and skipped away to the window. She was always drawn to the sea, always wanted to be as close to the water as she could; she loved the feel of her feet buried in the shoreline and the sound of the waves when they broke onto shore. Maybe it was because she had been born on Dragonstone Island and the water had permeated her consciousness since birth-or maybe she’d fallen in love the first time Jon had taken her swimming. Whatever the reason, she always seemed happier the closer they were to the water.

And they’d been a lot of places over the years. They were still in communication with their friends in Westeros, but not nearly as much as they had been; after a few rough years, a ruler had been fairly elected and the realm was stable.

If they met people who knew of them, who had heard of the Battle for the Dawn, they were often asked why they had given it all up. King’s Landing could have been theirs for the taking. No one would ever contest their right to the Iron Throne. But after all the death and destruction…she realized she hadn’t wanted it. The power had never been something she craved and she hadn’t found the belonging she sought until she met Jon, until they became a family. And after coming so close to losing it all she realized that she didn’t want to give it up so easily. She wanted her children to have a better childhood than she had. She wanted their last name to be just that-a name. Not a legacy. Not a weight on their shoulders that they would feel every day of their life.

She didn’t want to be their messiah. She wanted to be selfish for once in her life; she wanted a family.

The wanderlust had hit almost as soon as they left Westeros’s shores behind them and for the last three years they’d been mostly nomadic; they moved as the feeling struck them, around the Free Cities, into the Summer Sea, to Dorne or the Iron Islands to visit friends, to the ruins of Valyria. Rhaenyra, and later Daeron, had grown up around ships. They were more comfortable on sharply sloping decks than they were on dry land.

There was so much to see. There was no way they could see it all by staying at home.

But there had been another reason for their wandering-a house with a red door that she’d dreamt about more and more until she was determined to find it. It had taken years to track it down-to trace it back from servants and masters and repairs and crises. At some points she’d almost given up, when every trail inevitably went cold. And Jon had always been the one to encourage her-there were always places they hadn’t checked. Until then they’d explored-camping in the forest of Qohor under the stars, trying foods from faraway lands in crowded bazaars, and every so often meeting a long lost cousin with Valyrian blood.

It was a good life, but the children were getting older and Dany wanted them to have a home. She wanted them to have a place they thought of as their own, with a roof over their heads and beds they could sleep in at night.

She felt Jon’s hand ruffle her hair and his lips on her cheek, soft as a butterfly’s wings. “Are you ready?”

She nodded, feeling his stubble scratch against her skin. Her eyes dipped shut, taking a moment to revel in the nearness of him. He always gave off an aura of peace and calm, something she’d held onto more than once when the nightmares took her. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

He put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, planting a kiss on the top of her forehead as they watched the children play. Daeron had toddled over to his sister and she’d picked him up easily, setting him on her lap as she pointed out all of the colorful ships on the river and the flags that told her where they’d come from. “It’ll be good for them not to move as soon as the wind changes.”

“Do you think you can ever settle into domestic life? No wars to fight, no enemies to defeat? Just…a little house, children, maybe a cat or two?” She could barely imagine it, even now. At least when she was moving she was doing something-there was something that seemed almost wrong about not having that security of productivity.

“It’ll be an adjustment-but for the children…”

“We’ll do anything.”

And the more she thought about it, the more she realized that she wanted it too.


It took another two hours to pack everything up and hire a cart to take their belongings ahead to the new house. They took the slow route, meandering around the canals and open air marketplaces, stopping here and there to by fresh fish or watch the courtesans pass in their open air boats. Dany told herself it was because Daeron and Rhaenyra wanted to explore the city, though she sometimes wondered if it was her postponing it subconsciously. To make a decision like this…to choose to set down roots somewhere…it felt as if she was turning her back on her home, her lineage, the throne that she could choose to take now if she ever went back to King’s Landing.

But she knew this was what she wanted. She wanted her and Jon to grow old together, to be able to watch their children grow and have families of their own, to live a quiet life filled with love. She was certain of it, more certain than she’d been of anything else in quite some time. So why was she so reluctant?

They stopped to watch a group of street performers. Entertainers juggled fruits and small soft colored balls deftly, adding more and more until the children, including Rhaea and Daeron, ran towards them. Dany felt the sharp fear she always did when they disappeared into the crowd, that maybe she’d lose them among  all the people. But she could still see them-Rhaea’s blonde braids as she clapped her hands excitedly, Daeron’s eyes shining with a boyish wonder.

“Jon.”

“Hmm.” He shifted imperceptibly next to her, brushing her shoulder. To anyone else it would have been a fidget but she knew better, knew him well enough by now to know when he was trying to say that he loved her.

“Do you think we’re letting them all down?”

He didn’t ask who she meant. He didn’t need to. They had the same nightmares, after all. They had the same demons in their pasts. And so he didn’t give her a flippant answer. “Maybe it’s cowardly, to give up so much power…but there’s something brave in it as well, don’t you think? In trusting Tyrion to show the Seven Kingdoms that they can rule themselves?”

“I don’t care about that. I just didn’t want the throne. It would have destroyed us, the way it destroys everyone in one way or another. It would have destroyed them.” Rhaenyra and Daeron still laughed and played in the streets, acting every bit like the young children they were. There would be no outfits dripping with jewels, no crowns to break their spines. “Maybe it’s selfish but…”

“It’s not selfish to desire peace.”

“There will never be peace.”

“Maybe not for us. But our children…they’ll be smarter. They’ll succeed where we failed. Change isn’t the work of only one or two people. We laid the foundation, and now we have to trust them to build upon it.”

“Do you ever think about what would happen if we would have stayed?”

“Every day. But I’m glad that we didn’t.”

Rhaenyra and Daeron had drifted away from the street performers and were investigating a cart full of flowers. As she watched, the cart’s owner pulled out a crown of braided violets and placed it on her daughter’s head. Rhaea’s face lit up when she smiled. “So am I.”


The house was in one of the nicer quarters of the city; it faced the harbor and smelled of the sea. It wasn’t the biggest house on the street but Dany had always liked it the best, even as a young girl. It had square windows that opened out to let in the breeze and the walls were a pale cream color that reminded her of baking dough. And of course the door was a deep red; she was always able to pick it out from the other houses, even at night. There was a turret in the back where she’d had her playroom; it made the house look like a castle.

Even though she remembered what it looked like, even though she could never have forgotten something like that, to see it again after all this time was still a shock. Some things had changed-the house had a new coat of paint, the tower looked significantly more dilapidated, and there was only a stump in the front yard where there had once been a sprawling lemon tree-but it was instantly recognizable. For a moment she felt like she’d never left, like she was still a little girl wanting to be loved.

“It looks like a castle!” Rhaenyra screeched as she jumped off the back of the cart while it was still in motion (something she’d been told again and again not to do) and ran to the front door. The two guards who accompanied them from house to house instantly stepped aside to let her in and she flung the door open, disappearing inside.

“I’ll get her.” Once the carriage stopped Dany climbed down, her boots making a puff of dirt rise into the air. The memories were coming back in a thick flood-she hadn’t been any older than Rhaea when she’d seen the house for the first time and she could remember how she’d run inside, happy to finally have a bed to sleep in after months on the run. She remembered the paintings on the walls, the heavy rugs on the floors, the arched ceiling in the entryway that had seemed impossibly far above her.

Now she opened the door with a bit more trepidation. “Rhaenyra?” There was no answer.

She stepped inside. The walls had faded-they were more white than puce, and there was a new rug in the entryway. A new chandelier hung from the ceiling too, with holders for six candles. At the moment none of them were lit, though she suspected that come the evening they would be.

“Where are the others?” Rhaenyra came running back from farther in the house, her boots echoing on the hard floor. At first Dany didn’t know what she was talking about-and then she realized just how often they’d been staying with others in the past few years-in inns or at boarding houses, or in small gated communities where everyone knew each other better than they knew themselves.

“There’s no one else coming, darling. Just us.”

“This whole house is just for us?”

“Yes-unless you want any more brothers and sisters. Then they’d live here too. But no strangers.”

“But…it’s so big.”

“When I was younger there were more people that lived here-Ser Willam Darry, Viserys, the waitstaff-the cooks, the maids, the guards, the cleaners…but we had to let most of them go.”

“Why?”

They kicked us out. “We just…we had to move on. I didn’t think I’d ever come here again.” She picked Rhaenyra up before she could ask and they stood in the foyer looking at the chandelier, reveling in the silence. That was something she missed, she realized. All the places they stayed at had always been busy and bustling. The silence here was so total, so complete-but it felt cozy and lived in, as if there had been other families after her that had made the home their own.

“Exploring already, are we?” Jon stepped inside, Daeron balanced on his hip and a few bags in his other hand-which all tumbled free as soon as he stepped into the entryway. Daeron was sucking on his thumb as he took the place in, eyes as big as saucers.

Rhaenyra giggled. “It’s so pretty! Are the bedrooms upstairs?”

They spent the rest of the afternoon exploring-there was the kitchen, with its long wooden table where they would take their meals-Dany recognized a scratch in the side where she’d been poking it with a fork when she was bored as a child. The furniture in many of the rooms was unfamiliar, the carpets that had once seemed plush and lovely now were worn through and threadbare in places, the pantry leaked, and a few of the rooms had been painted completely different colors or covered in a pattern of flowers and vines that looked garish and ugly.

But in all the ways that mattered, it was as if she’d never left.

Rhaenyra claimed her own bedroom-a circular room just under the playroom, with light blue walls. She flopped down on the small bed in one corner and closed her eyes, sighing deeply-the sigh of someone who knew that they were somewhere they belonged.

Daeron was getting fussy, tired out from a day of travel, so they left him in the makeshift nursery-the room that had once been Dany’s. The cradle had been assembled before they arrived and he fell asleep almost as soon as his head touched the pillow.

She couldn’t help picking out where the lemon tree had once been, how it had dappled the light that fell through the sheer curtains. There was something melancholy in the way the light pooled harshly on the floor now; it felt as if she’d lost something irreparable.

She felt Jon’s hand squeeze her shoulder and they went to the adjoining bedroom next door. It was the master bedroom and unlike the other rooms it seemed to be in a state of disrepair; the coverlet was dusty and the wardrobe leaned on one foot precariously but it felt good to lie still and let the dust and heat of the journey drift away out the open window.

Jon kissed her gently and she felt herself relax, felt the feeling of uncertainty that had taken over her from the moment they entered the house fall away. Yes, it wasn’t the same house she’d grown up in-and it shouldn’t have been because she wasn’t the same girl. The door that she’d thought was closed forever had been opened again and she felt a world of possibilities opening up to her-a world of simple moments and happiness and everything she thought she’d have to give up forever because they were the last Targaryens. A world where she could lie with him and just…be. Where there were no monsters to fight or nightmares to chase-just children to raise in a house with the windows open and the scent of fresh flowers drifting through the house.

“We’re home,” she whispered. “We’re really home.”

He didn’t answer but she could feel him smile. Gods, she loved him.

I will write something for every day this week no matter what it takes. 

Homesick (Drabble)

Ship: Plance (Lance/Pidge)

Word Count: 599

Rating: Teen (minor descriptive violence)

Lance counted stars to fall asleep.

He had been doing this since he was 6, his mother would tuck him into bed and softly whispered the numbers in his ear, drifting him to slumber. Her soft voice, thick in her accent, was ingrained in Lance’s head. When he counted, he could almost hear her.

Today had been a hard one, Lance thought as he stared out through the glass of the flight deck, seated comfortably in his chair with a fluffy, blue blanket engulfing his body. Missions could always go bad, but usually they were so quick and mindful of their limitations. It was easy to get caught up in the feeling that by being Voltron, you were somehow untouchable. Bulletproof.

Lance could still hear the echo of Allura’s scream, the sound of her leg cracking under the pressure of a large boulder that had collapsed on them during a fight on the ground, the taste of copper as he bit into his cheek to keep from losing his cool. It would just take a night in the pod to heal her, but every time it’s something. A broken bone, a torn ligament, a large gash. And it’s those wounds that heal that make the ache in his chest to grow stronger.

Lance sighed, wrapping the blanket around him tighter, and tried not to think. Just… count the stars.

1…2…3…4…5-

A swish of the door came from behind him, and Lance looked to see who it was.

Pidge stood in the doorway, looking out at the glass where millions of miles of galaxies and universes laid out in front of them. She looked softer than usual, even with her arms crossed tightly. She dressed in the team pajamas, hers a light, pastel green. Without her glasses, even in the dark room, Lance could make out her honey colored eyes and messy, hazelnut hair.

“Pidge?” he asked, she looked startled for a moment before relaxing when she saw him.

“Lance, sorry,” she said quietly, coming up to him, “I just… was feeling…you know…”

“Yeah,” Lance agreed, understanding her. It was becoming harder to put these feelings into words.

“Are you..,” Pidge searched for a moment, leaning against his chair, “doing okay?”

Lance nodded on reflex, chuckling awkwardly, “Yeah, just been doing some thinking, which is dangerous out here, ain’t it?”

Pidge gave him a look, and Lance had to look away, back up at the stars. He closed his eyes and tried to pretend she wasn’t there reading him like an open book.

“Scooch.”

Lance opened his eyes to see Pidge trying to nudge her way underneath the blanket with him, crawling on top of him into a ball. He wrapped his arms around her, expecting it to be awkward but found they synced together perfectly, her nuzzling his shoulder while he got a deep breath of her floral shampoo.

“I miss Earth, too,“ she said straight forward, “But these moments… in between it all… they’re nice.”

Lance smiled at the stars, “Yeah, they are.”

“What are you doing out here anyways?” Pidge asked, her voice low, breath becoming rhythmic, “Aren’t beds comfier?”

“Counting the stars,” Lance said, half expecting her to chirper back something about how it’s impossible to count all the stars or some other science mumbo-jumbo.

Instead, he felt her lips curl against his collarbone, a shiver running down his spine.

“Count them for me,“ She breathed out, already closing her eyes and clutching his shirt.

Lance got to 10 before Pidge passed out, and 19 before he followed closely behind. 

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anythas-thoughts  asked:

Congratulations for you milestone! I wouldn't mind if you wrote something fluffy post season 4. :)

thank you! hope this satisfies that itch. :-) emotionally follows this & this ficlets.
Anniversary Ficlet 7/8.
Rated G. FitzSimmons. Future fic, space!fic, super fluff.

Everyone on the space station was abuzz with the possibility for an Earth-bound mission departing sometime soon, so Jemma wasn’t sure if she was feeding off of that or was imagining things (or not). But for the past two days, Fitz had been behaving atypically squirrelly and seemingly avoiding her, and it hurt her more than she cared to admit. Even if they were sort-of-mostly dating (Still? Again? They hadn’t quite defined it yet), they were not, after all, glued to each others’ sides, and nor should they be. With their steady but tentative patching up of their relationship around Fitz’s healing, though, his strange and unprompted behavior had caught her off-guard.

Because their bunks were minuscule and the space station’s rules on fraternization were opaque, to say the least, they were still spending their nights alone. Whenever they could sneak away or had free time that they could spend together, however, they had been happily easing their way back towards a romantic and physical relationship much more alike the one they’d both been enjoying before the Framework had forcibly turned everything upside down. At the beginning of the week, Fitz had even tugged Jemma into a storage closet for a clandestine snog, which had made her positively giddy.

Then, barely two days later, he had begun acting vague and unduly distracted around her, from when she spoke to him at work and to when he’d scoot off to be on his own. Even though she tried to tell herself he was probably just working on getting the Peak’s camouflage up and running, and that she really should try to avoid being clingy, his behavior was making her antsy. It was a clear sign that she was still recovering from their forced separation, too, Jemma pointed out to herself, and attempted to keep her mind on her work.

One afternoon following a long day in the lab, Fitz sidled up alongside Jemma as she was finishing tidying up her workstation. “Hey,” he said, giving her a small smile that she returned, “what’re you doing tonight?”

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anonymous asked:

For the Creature Feature, how about mermaids? Not like the little mermaid, more like Abe Sapien-- like actually 'Human evolved to live underwater' and isn't just a human with a fish tail? human woman with merman?

I’m not sure if this is what you had in mind, but I had a great time writing it. 

Content warnings: Suicidal ideation, the ocean, alcoholism. ~3300 words.

Undertow


The ocean pulls at him.


Obron walks down to the water, at night. There is nothing there but ocean and black sky. A constant roar of waves and wind. All the grand hotels behind him have shut off the lights and he feels the pull and tug, the massive presence of nature begging him to drown. The fear takes him and he returns home.


Novi Sad was a city of colors and vibrancy. Here on the Oregon coast, where he’s been since he was ten, everything was grey, green and brown. There is a certain beauty in the moss covered trees, but he misses the color of his youth. Father wasn’t so unhappy back home. Here he drinks, every night. Obron walks in the house, sees father lying on the couch, his face slack from the cheap beer he puts away every night. Mother is in bed, as usual. He stares at the snoring beast on the couch and goes to bed, dreaming of the depths.

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fandomwife  asked:

Are you still taking requests and stuff for sleepover weekend? Idk if u did this yet but can you do head canons for jealous Sirius?

  • Gets very grumpy and standoffish.
  • If another guy is getting too close for his comfort, Sirius will 100% deck him without explanation. 
  • Like will genuinely start fights with anybody. 
  • Other times he’ll be childlike and give you the silent treatment. 
  • He’s basically just not very good with sharing or dealing with his emotions. 
  • So it’s a work in progress and you have to teach him to start using his words rather than his fists. 
  •  He gets all sheepish when you confront him about it but you forgive him because he ‘just loves you so much’ and he’s got the best set of puppy dog eyes. 

Sleepover Weekend!

The Gang Buys A Boat
  • Kurt: We got to pop by the department store, pick up the mattress. I want to get a nice one too. You know?
  • Ram: The what? The mattress? What do we need a mattress for? Kurt: What do you mean what do we need a mattress for? Why do you think we just spent all that money on a boat? The whole purpose of buying the boat was to get the ladies nice and tipsy topside so we can take them to a nice comfortable place below deck and, you know, they can't refuse - because of the implication.
  • Ram:
  • Ram: Oh. Uh, okay. You had me going there for the first part. The second half kind of threw me...
  • Kurt: Well, dude, think about it. She's out in the middle of nowhere with some dude she barely knows. She looks around, and what does she see? Nothing but open ocean. "Ah, there's nowhere for me to run. What am I going to do, say no?"
  • Ram: Okay. That, that seems really dark.
  • Kurt: No, it's not dark. You're misunderstanding me, bro.
  • Ram: I think I am.
  • Kurt: Yeah, you are. Because if the girl said no, then the answer obviously is no. The thing is, she's not gonna say no.
  • She would never say no, because of the implication...
  • Ram: Now, you've said that word "implication" a couple of times. Wh-what implication?
  • Kurt: The implication that things might go wrong for her if she refuses to sleep with me. Now, not that things are gonna go wrong for her but she's thinking that they will.
  • Ram: But it sounds like she doesn't want to have sex with you.
  • Kurt: Why aren't you understanding this? She doesn't know whether she wants to have sex with me. That's not the issue.
  • Ram: Are you gonna hurt women?
  • Kurt: I'M NOT GOING TO HURT THESE WOMEN! Why would I ever hurt these women?
  • Ram: I don't know!
  • Kurt: I feel like you're not getting this.
  • Ram: I'm not getting it.
  • Kurt: Goddamn. Don't you look at me like that. You certainly wouldn't be in any danger.
  • Ram: So they are in danger?!
  • Kurt: No one's in any danger! How can I make that any more clear to you? Okay, it's an implication of danger. You know what? Just drop it. Let's drop it.
  • Ram:

Morning Starshines! Here we are, another odd day, meaning it’s time for another challenge! Today, we’ll be tackling my take on the infamous Journey Into the Card meditation. You’ve probably come across a version of this in a LWB or online resource at some point - it’s popular with good reason!

With it being a Full Moon & Eclipse in Aquarius, I thought that The Star - the tarot card associated with Aquarius - would be fitting. But, you could also choose to work with any card you’d like; maybe you have a card that is associated with a deity you’d like to connect with, or there is a stalker card you’d like to explore, or you’re just more comfortable letting your deck choose the card that you need to see. It all works! Once you’ve chosen your card, read the outline below and then … jump in. Don’t worry if you don’t follow my exact path here, I’m just describing what process works for me to Journey into a card! It looks like a lot, but I want to give enough detail that even people who aren’t versed in meditation can have a nice experience =)

Make sure that you have a bit of time available where you won’t likely be disturbed for this challenge. When you’re ready, I’d like you to settle in & get comfy - and make sure you have some way to make notes afterwards at hand! Make a Space, for a meditation. Pillows, candles, incense, open a circle, whatever helps you get into a relaxed headspace. Holding your Star card, or other chosen card, close your eyes and take a few breaths. You know how you breathe from the back of your throat to fog up a window? Try a few breaths deep in your throat like that - but with your mouth closed, tongue just resting on the roof of your mouth. You’ll sound like Darth Vader, but if you can get over feeling silly about that, it really does help to shift your mind into meditative space. In through the nose, out through the nose, all with that hiss from the back of your throat. 5 or 6 noisy breaths should do the trick

Then, take a few more breaths normally, and open your eyes and just … gaze at your card. Let your eyes drink in the setting of the card, the character portrayed. Get a feel for the mood, environment, take your time with this, and then let your eyes close. Try to picture the card, in as much detail as you remember - but, the mood, the feel of the card, that’s more important than the exact details. Scan your mental image, and reopen your eyes to look at the card again, to really get it locked into your minds eye. When you’re ready, let your eyes close again and bring up your mental vision of the card, and this time, kind of … zoom in. Let the image grow closer and bigger, you may feel it wash over you, or you may find yourself able to step into the scene. If you can’t quite manage to get into the card, feel free to let your eyes open and drink in the imagery a bit more and try again, remembering to keep your breaths slow and deep. Find a detail of the card that you know you can make real in your mind - like, the flow of water from her jug - and let your focus rest there. Eyelids drop, mental version up and zoom in there.

Once you’re in the card, feel free to wander around it’s universe. If you’re called to, speak to the person you find there. They may allow you to ask questions - under this Moon, I’m focusing on “how can I best uncover my latent talents, and how can I use them to better the world?” - but you may be called towards different. Sometimes, the person I speak to gives me a gift. What you’ll find in the card itself is so personal, I don’t want to say much more - whatever comes to you, comes to you, it needs no direction!

You’ll know when it’s time to leave, it may just fade out or you might feel “done” and need to direct yourself back into your body. When you are back in your body, feel free to just sit with your eyes closed for a few minutes, to soak it all in. When you’re ready to, open your eyes, and start writing! I find this is almost like trying to remember a dream - if I don’t write it down as soon as I’m up, I’ll lose it. You can share as much or as little on your blog as you want for this challenge to count. I know it can get personal, so if you even want to just post “I did the meditation” and tag it with “L.I.A.C.” & “4/15 complete” (or, however many you’re at!) that’s cool. And if you want to talk about your experience, but are shy about posting it all up, feel free to message me privately!

That’s it for today! I don’t think that this challenge needs any Augmentation post tomorrow, but we’ll see! Have fun, everyone!

vukaxin  asked:

“i feel like everyone’s miles away from me.”

     “ A cabin in the woods can do that . “

     He stared at their joined hands, brushed his thumb over the ridges of Artem’s palm, pressed it into his pulse ( and felt his heartbeat ) , “ But they’re within walking distance . All of them . And I’m , “ he lifted them and kissed his knuckles, a gesture intimate and content, “ —within touching distance . “


( most emotional issues go right over his pretty little head !! // ACCEPTING. ) @vukaxin.⋆★

Strike Back

Conflicts like this shouldn’t surprise her. Turf wars, fights over businesses, things like this are common in the underground. Still, this felt personal. These pirates, the ‘Dead Dogs’, betrayed them. They caused harm, they caused loss. They had to be handled the right way.

The store turned out to be pretty unassuming. Makes sense, can’t exactly stand out when you sell weapons pushed by pirates. The place was nestled comfortably in the lower decks, flanked by a nice little bistro that let Chacharo work in the kitchen while she scouted the place and a curio shop that were eager to buy her smuggled goods from home. Nice place.

The woman behind the counter seems to be the only worker, the owner of the place. Tall, even for a Hellguard, with long raven hair tied into a tight bun behind her head. “Whatcha lookin for, little lady?” She asks in a low, yet still friendly, tone, leaning over the counter to look down at her small caller.

“Just browsin,” Chacha answers as her eyes moves over the wares. This was an oddity for the usual shops the pirates used. This place sold magical goods, and not as terrible as she expected either.

“Silver’s a good magical conductor,” the woman says as she sees Chacharo’s eyes moving over the small silver ring with a square peridot gem mounted on it. “The ancient cultures believed it to be the blood of the moons themselves, given solid form for mortals to use. Same with the peridot gem, some cultures thought they were tears of a divinity trapped in a volcano.”

“Good for fire magic, then?” Chacha asks, motioning for her to take the ring out of the case.

“Mhm,” she answers as she pulls it out. “Perfect for a dragon…”

The two locked eyes at that, each staring into the others’. A low click came from under the counter, the woman’s hand not holding the ring clearly readying a hidden gun. At this angle and size gap it was perfectly lined up with Chacharo’s head…

“Mhm,” Chacha replies in a rather calm tone despite what’s happening, motioning for the ring to be brought closer. “Wasted on a dog, then?”

“So what is this, casin the place for your boss? I’m a bit offended they sent a runt to me to be honest,” the shopkeep carries on, lowering the ring to her customer’s face.

“It was, but to be honest you’re not worth it.”

“Hah, come in here to rob me then insult me?” She sneers.

“No, just saying the truth. You’re too much of an exotic choice. Most of your friends sell normal weapons, you’re one of the few smart enough to sell something that’ll actually let you stand out. I assume this has been good for your standing?”

She snorts at that, but nods. “Yea, I’m one of the few that respects the more…as you say…exotic…arts. Not a lot of rivals for business with the Dogs.”

“So hitting you would be stupid. You’re a big player, the pool is smaller, you’ll be able to identify me easily and the goods I steal will be obvious. I’m not the type to burn perfectly good magical creations. So, can’t move them, can’t destroy them, obvious to your bosses who did what, pretty dumb move, yea?”

“Yea, guess so…” Chacharo could hear the low thump of the gun lowering, but the Hellguard’s hand was still under the counter. “So what are you here for?”

“Aside from buying that ring? I’m giving you a friendly warning. Get out while you can. My boss is on the warpath, my friends are angry, I may not be the only one who comes by here. Get out of town and lie low, start your business back up after the fight is over.”

“Pretty nice of you, what’s in it for you?”

“I’m a businesswoman at my heart as well,” Chacharo answers, hand dipping to take her pouch of gil. “I respect someone with an arcane eye. Maybe I want a contact on the inside as well, I won’t deny a selfish element here. Still, I’m loathe to turn to violence as quickly as others. I think it’s only fair you get a chance to do things the smart way.”

The woman thought on that for a while. It’s a hard choice, most likely. Betraying the Dogs could be deadly, but at the same time she likely knew that the Dragons weren’t exactly kind themselves. Chacharo allowed the woman to think as she shops, putting a few wands and vials of assorted arcane materials on the counter with the ring.

“Alright,” she finally answers. “Deal.”

“Smart,” Chacha nods, bouncing the pouch of coins in her hand idly. “Wrap this stuff up, I’ll leave you to go, I’ll tell the boss you were already boarded up when I moved on you.” She says before tossing the pouch over. “Keep the change, consider it help for moving fees and all.”

“Appreciate it,” the Hellguard says as she wraps the goods up, handing them over the counter for Chacha to take. “I won’t forget this, I owe ya for sure.”

“Don’t mention it, seriously, don’t,” she replies as she moves to the door, giving a friendly wave on her way out.

The official explanation for the explosion was unstable arcane components that were stored improperly. It was a miracle that the neighboring buildings weren’t damaged any worse than a rattling…They didn’t know the smoldering bag that was still gripped in the shopkeep’s hand was the source, they didn’t think to check for remains of the magically infused explosive within, primed to set off as soon as the bag was opened and the unstable fire crystals on it were exposed to more air after being shaken up by Chacharo’s bouncing.

Still, the message wasn’t for the guards, the message was for the next poor pirate that came to move his goods, finding his usual fence had died riddled with gil coins and her near entire stock was burnt to ash. That message was clear enough for others who moved in the shadows. Money wasn’t why Chacharo did this, money was a tool, she’d rather destroy these goods than steal them herself if it meant the Dogs couldn’t use them as well. This wasn’t just a trade war, this wasn’t some blood being spilled over business, this was personal done out of rage and spite rather than cold calculation.

If they wanted to mess with arms deal that was fine. It was better to set every weapon store in town to a torch than to let the Dead Dogs profit. It wasn’t really Chacharo’s normal style, but it felt right today, it felt like that the fallen would appreciate the tribute.

anonymous asked:

can I please have a fluffy scenario of law, kid, ace, zoro, and marco teasing their SO to the point where they feel a little guilty for going too far? And great writing for a new imagine blog ^^

(Thanks for the praise!

This was actually pretty fun to write, much to my surprise

Usually, I hate fighting, and I tend to avoid it if I can

But here you go, my dear anon)

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Korrasami “Deleted Scene” from Book 3

Notes: So, I have no idea if any of this is actually in-character and I definitely don’t consider it finished. I just wrote it up on a whim last night. Part of me wants to sit on it more because I was hoping to do things in order but… I think I’ve just accepted that I will post them as they come and someday put them in order/clean them up into a full fic of their own.

Summary: Korra asks Asami a question and it turns into a flirtatious dance. This is a little blurb as part of my idea of having “Deleted Scenes” from Book 3 showing the further development of Korrasami friendship and romantic feelings with a particular emphasis on Korra’s view as she slowly realizes her feelings for Asami are not at all platonic. You could consider it a prequel of this one I posted months ago. Takes place sometime after Korra’s first training session with Opal but before the whole Lin/Korra blow up. The dance is very loosely inspired from this fanart. Hope you enjoy.


[Korra sits against Naga while Asami is laying underneath a turbine tinkering and adjusting things.]

There was a long but comfortable lull in the conversation. Korra listened to the sounds of Asami’s quiet tinkering, metal clinking on metal, her short breaths as she reached around and fiddled with different mechanisms.

“Did you ever wish you’d become an airbender?” Korra broke the silence suddenly and once the words were out, she felt somewhat self-conscious of them. She didn’t want to put Asami on the spot and the question felt deeply personal.

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8

New tarot bags are available if folks are interested.

$10 - Large bags can hold 4x6 inch decks comfortably. I can fit my full size Voyager deck or my mega oracle deck in one. (88 cards - Les Vampire Oracle and Oracle of Shadow and Light).

$15 - Spread cloth is double sided and approximately 20x20 inches.

Shoot me an ask if you’re interested. Shipping to the US is running about $2.54 for up to 2 bags.

If you are outside the US, please consider exchange rate and shipping costs. Shipping to Canada is running around $9.50 USD for up to 2 bags.

When I confirm that the bag you want is available I send you a request for funds through PayPal and ship it off to you - easy-peasy!

(the tarot decks from the pictures are not included - I’m pretty sure you can figure that out, but just to be safe…)

In Confidence

Rose swept back the tarp curtains. They folded into heavy pleats and revealed a small, dimly-lit enclosing with packed dirt floors. The air inside was dense with stagnant heat. A breath of fresh air whisked past her to fumigate the tent.

Her arrival, with a gust of wind and sunshine, startled the single Gem busying herself inside. This Gem strangled the next note of the song she’d been humming and instead snapped to attention. The lace ruffling about her waist shivered in the breeze. Her wide pale eyes shined like starlight in the wash of sun. Pretty, like a painting.

“Oh, I hadn’t expected you back so early, Rose! Luckily I’ve gotten ahead of schedule on the cleaning, oh and the unpacking is finally complete. If the arrangement displeases you I could always change it up.” The Pearl clapped her hands together. The reflection in her eyes vanished as Rose let the tarp door fall shut. “I’ve been working on a new song! I’d love to perform it for you.”

Rose let her eyes drift from the Pearl to the rest of the small shelter. Crinkled patches of the roof simmered, bright with the blocked sunlight above them. The walls tapered into three corners, and small pieces of comfort decked the floor. Brush and stalks of plant life had been threaded into a cushion of sorts. Tapestries sprawled down from fastenings in the roof, threaded up with images of Rose and the other Diamond Authorities. The cold packed dirt, which had been tediously plucked of weeds, was smooth save for the petite oval indents of her Pearl’s feet. Voices carried as warbles through the thick tarp. Stagnant, hot moisture returned as the breeze died away.

“Rose?” the Pearl prompted once more. She’d worked herself to tiptoe, right foot dragging nervous, perfect circles in the ground. “I haven’t quite perfected the choreography, but if you’d like to see—“

“No, Pearl. Thank you, though.”

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Go It Alone - (be-the-peaf week 48)

Title: Go It Alone
Word Count:
1,988
Summary:
[Korra prepares to go to the Earth Kingdom, Mako trails from behind. // “I’m not taking any chances this time.” | Korra. Mako. Makorra. Post-Book 2.]

A/N: Big thanks to jinlian for helping me look over this one! :)

-.-

be-the-peaf · Prompt 048 – stolen kisses, quick glances

-.-

She’s with Tenzin’s family when the letter from the Earth Queen’s emissary arrives.

It’s unexpected, but at the same time the news about the escalating situations between the spirits and villages that lined the southeastern coast was no surprise. Without a spiritual leader or guide, the spirits were going wherever they pleased, making homes in the woods, seas and crop fields. This meant trouble for the fishermen and farmers, who relied on the spirit-infested land for sources of food and trade. That, in turn, meant trouble for Korra, whom the kingdom held contempt for turning their land into a popular spot for the “out-of-control” spirits.

With that, she heads to the Earth Kingdom to sort out the mess.

Alone.

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