#or write-about-it-in-your-journal/in-your-own-post feelings

[rasqberrypetalpostcards]

001.

monologue culture: why we overshare to no one in particular an essay on the quiet poetry of talking too much to no one at all

there’s a peculiar intimacy to monologuing into the ether. a sort of emotional exhale into digital spaces—voice notes no one asked for, captions that feel like confessionals, 3am tumblr posts typed like love letters and left unsigned. this isn’t attention-seeking, not really. it’s something more tender. more tired. more complex.

we’re not always speaking to be heard. sometimes, we speak because the silence is heavier than the vulnerability.

this is monologue culture.

it’s the way we sit with our feelings—out loud. it's the way we narrate heartbreak to an instagram caption or cry-write three paragraphs into a notes app. it’s when someone asks, “how are you?” and we respond with a novel, even if no one’s reading it. it’s the paradox of speaking into the void and hoping someone sees it, but not really minding if they don’t.

we do this not because we’re unwell (though sometimes, yes), but because it’s a way of survival. we monologue as a soft rebellion against isolation. a kind of makeshift companionship. an archive of our own emotional literacy. a way to know ourselves—out loud.

a little history: the diary, digitized

before there were late-night rants on twitter or poetic overshares on tumblr, there were diaries—pages upon pages of musings, monologues, maybes. people have always needed a place to speak privately but not silently. the digital age didn’t invent oversharing; it just made it observable.

now, we narrate our lives publicly, semi-publicly, or in “close friends” stories meant only for a curated few. but even when we share to no one, when we lock a post or leave it untagged, there’s still a performance to it. a soft kind. not to be admired, but to be witnessed. like cracking open a window and hoping someone hears the piano playing.

the emotional logic of oversharing

so why do we do it?

why pour our hearts into spaces not designed to hold them?

well—for one, there’s structure in monologuing. there’s clarity in forming thoughts into paragraphs. there’s relief in naming what we’re feeling, even if we’re doing it while crying into our pillow with one arm extended for typing.

oversharing, especially when it feels one-sided, is often less about the listener and more about the speaker. it’s the emotional equivalent of picking at a knot until it loosens. you talk it through not because you want advice, but because the weight feels lighter when spoken. and when written—oh, when written—it feels like a spell cast to trap the ache between lines.

fun fact: “oversharing” is often gendered

did you know that the very idea of oversharing is loaded with bias? in communication studies and digital discourse, the label is disproportionately applied to femmes and feminine-coded speech. women and girls are told they “talk too much,” “go too deep,” or “make things awkward” with emotional openness.

but in reality? sharing openly, and with nuance, is a form of emotional fluency. it’s not oversharing. it’s storytelling. and storytelling is power. it’s a legacy passed down through letters, journals, whispered poems in the dark.

so the next time you call yourself cringey for oversharing on your blog or sending a five-minute voice note to your best friend about the way a bird looked at you—maybe pause. maybe remember that talking too much about what hurts is a kind of care. maybe even a kind of art.

the performance of silence vs. the performance of speech

we romanticize the quiet types—the mysterious ones who “don’t post much” or “keep to themselves.” but we rarely ask why someone shares out loud. we rarely notice how brave it is to monologue without a promise of being understood.

silence can be powerful. but so can loud vulnerability. and those who monologue—those who overshare, whisper their spirals, dramatize their heartbreaks with all the flair of a tragic heroine—deserve grace.

there’s performance in all kinds of expression. but monologuing is a unique one. it’s a performance of being present in your own unraveling. it’s what happens when you refuse to disappear just because you're hurting.

monologues as placeholders for connection

when we talk to “no one in particular,” we’re often talking to the someone we wish existed. the best friend who’s still awake. the stranger who might get it. the future version of ourselves who’ll reread our rants and finally understand.

it’s not loneliness that drives monologue culture—it’s hope. a strange, soft hope that somewhere, someone might nod along, or smile a little, or whisper “same” into the dark.

we write long captions, post rambling blogs, tweet drafts meant for no audience because it feels like company. it feels like we’re building a trail of breadcrumbs back to ourselves.

being known vs. being heard

there’s a distinct ache in wanting to be known rather than just heard. and monologues? they bridge that gap. they reveal who we are in ways casual conversations rarely do.

a tumblr post about how your heart feels like a cracked teacup says more than “i’m sad.” a ramble about a stranger who reminded you of someone you lost says more than “i miss you.”

these moments, these monologues—they stitch together the poetry of living. they say: i’m trying. i’m feeling. i’m reaching.

and yes, maybe no one will reply. maybe no one will read the entire thing. but it lives. it exists. and that matters.

in defense of talking too much

maybe this is your sign to keep narrating. to keep voice-noting. to keep typing things out like they matter—because they do. maybe you are not too much. maybe you are just alive in a world that often asks us to mute our inner symphonies.

so write the three-paragraph instagram caption. post the crying selfie if it helps. rant to your drafts. record your thoughts in the middle of the night. speak, even if you’re not sure anyone’s listening.

because sometimes, the person who needs to hear you most—is you.

scribbled down by, R.

[dudewheresmynug]

Rook's Hobbies

I've been tagged in so many amazing Rook games that I decided to make one!!

For this, I'm going to tag @rooks-dagger @dancing--lights @trashwithvariety @justanecho94 @herald-divine-hell @razzberrydazz and @zombiefishgirl. No pressure! I would love to learn more about what your Rooks enjoy 🥰

Obviously, the tag is also open to anyone else who would like to try it! Please let me know if you do!

Rules: Post a few of your Rook's hobbies and write an explanation (however long you'd like) describing why they enjoy them. Then, tag some other people to play!

Lydia Thorne

Reading

A lifelong hobby of hers, Lydia enjoys nothing more than getting into a good book. Surprisingly, she mostly engages with historical or magical texts. She's always looking to advance her magic, or learn something new, or understand something that unsettles her. It's uncommon for Lydia to fall into a storybook, but not unheard of. When she does find herself getting engrossed in a story, it's usually the sappiest romance she can find. Or, it's something action-packed and high-stakes. Reading is the only hobby Lydia has that she would hate to have interrupted. Honestly, she'll ignore the culprit at best, and throw something at worst. Her favorite book of all time is The History of the Grey, which, as the title suggests, is about the history of the Grey Wardens. She first read the book when she was a kid, and she ended up stealing it from the Circle library when the tower fell. She keeps it with her even at the lighthouse.

Writing Poetry

Lydia keeps a few secret journals for poetry. This isn't a hobby she tends to share freely; instead, she's a bit embarrassed by it. That being said, she goes to lengths to keep this part of herself hidden. Lydia bought her first journal for her 24th birthday, her first birthday after joining the Order. She initially bought the journal because its design caught her eye, and she put it to good use! She would make bullet point lists about how she was doing, or what she was thinking (much like regular journaling). These eventually turned into lists about her surroundings, or recent events, and how they made her feel, and what they made her think and remember. She would also write about things she wanted to be able to reflect on in the future. From there, she slipped into the habit of writing poetry whenever she needed to process something. It was a great coping mechanism while she dealt with deep depression in the Order. Lydia will also write about her magic use or about her friends. Then, when she starts crushing on Neve, she writes about Neve. A lot. Likeee a lot a lot. And Davrin, a lot, after he dies.

Nature Walks/ Running

Lydia needs to be outdoors a LOT. Years of growing up in the circle made her less than a fan of being in enclosed spaces, especially for long periods. During those 7 years she spent living at home with her parents, after the Circle and before the Order, Lydia could often be found outside. She would hang around the farm, but she also had her little areas around Crestwood, which would be her refuge. She also enjoyed sleeping outside, which she would do as much as possible (as weather and parents allowed). Being in the Fade is...weird? It looks outsideish enough for Lydia to feel comfortable, but she still prefers not to sleep in her own room. She spends a LOT of time in Harding's room, actually. Davrin's "touching grass" trips are super helpful for her. In that same vein, Lydia really enjoys running. She's fast and has great stamina. She loves the rush she gets during and after a good run and loves the feeling of fresh air filling her lungs. She'd definitely be the type to sign up for multiple marathons a year. Lydia has definitely also challenged some (all) of her friends to races. Neve smokes her every damn time (seriously have you ever panned the camera up while running around with Neve in game? She's fast as fuck).

Baking Bread

This is a lesser-known hobby of Lydia's because she doesn't get to do it very often. Her father grew up working for his family's bakery (more of a flour mill that also baked and sold bread), so he's an expert at baking bread. Her mother has the skill, too. Baking bread was one of the ways Lydia's parents bonded with her when she came home from the Circle. It was a calm task with enough personal care put into it that Lydia could handle it without becoming overwhelmed. Lydia doesn't talk about this hobby because it reminds her of her parents, and she doesn't like to think about them. Baking bread becomes a happier hobby once she finally reunites with them. By extension, Lydia also enjoys cooking. Nothing is better than a hot and hearty dish, though she can slap a suitable meal together with whatever's lying around. She doesn't get much kitchen time, though, because Lucanis tends to cook nearly every day.

A Nice Game of (Drunk) Darts

Another one of Lydia's lesser-known hobbies, Lydia enjoys a nice competitive game of darts. As the section title suggests, it's even more fun for Lydia if she's had a few drinks. Lydia started playing darts during her time in the Order -- it was one of the games she and the other recruits would play to bond. Lydia is an alright shot on the regular. Drunk Lydia is either phenomenal or horrible, depending on the night. She's been known to throw the darts too hard or insist on getting an extra turn if she misses. She has also, on several occasions, gotten worked up enough over being heckled by other players that her magic has sparked. Unfortunately, my girl is competitive as all hell. She'll create extra challenges or rewards/punishments to make the game more interesting. She's not always a sore loser, but she can be! When she is, she's getting into shouting matches, or talking shit, or storming off in a huff. Still, she claims that the game relaxes her! Losing her favorite elemental orb in a match once has also taught her not to gamble.

Thank you for reading this (not so short) post! Can't wait to see what your Rooks enjoy <3

[telumendils]

some of y'all when you see another human being talking about their lived experiences:

[shivasdarknight]

Hi, sorry for this but you are a writer, so umm.. I was hoping you could give me some tips/advice on how to write?

tbh the way I got into writing is a bit insane, but I do have some advice that can help. gonna put it under a cut just because it got kinda long

honest to god, one of the best pieces of advice is something you're already doing because reading can genuinely help you with becoming a better writer. stepping outside of your usual genres or authors can help expand your viewpoint and introduce you to more narrative styles so you can play around and see what works for you. eg. if you mostly read first person, give second person a shot. or if you're an omniscient third person, try limited third person. or even retrospective first person, because i often see people complain about first person pov when it's married with a present tense story. if you have a first person narrator talking about events in the past as if talking to you, or a journal it often takes an entirely different angle and it's something I've played with in Homestuck fics because that fandom tends to be more open to narrative experimentation. Writing is honestly a lot of looking at stuff you like (much like art) and smooshing it all together. Personally, I've gotten a lot of my writing style from stuff like The Locked Tomb, admittedly Lovecraft was foundational (but this is a great example of why to always remain critical considering his bullshit), so was Homestuck and Rick Riordan's stuff. I'm never trying to copy them wholesale, but I am looking at aspects I like - such as Riordan's humor intertwining with the narrative and narration, or the deeply unreliable narrators that Muir writes, or even how Homestuck balances purple prose with gut wrenching conciseness when it counts. A lot of modern day fast food fiction takes out a lot of the stuff that actually builds a story - pacing, playing with narration and technical writing - so you need to be conscious of what you're looking for in things. Often more established authors get to do weirder stuff than new authors, but don't discredit new ones because that would be leaving out folks like Xiran Jay Zhao and their phenomenal prose.

Another thing that helps greatly is reading writing critique. Video essays on books or even more critical thought pieces on writing, tropes, etc. can help you learn more about why something works. Lots of different channels on YouTube dedicated to dissecting media, absolutely recommend stuff like Hello Future Me, Overly Sarcastic Productions (real world ties + mythology, great basis to build things on), Zoe Bee (writer + commentary), Nerdwriter1 (media analysis + commentary), Just Write, and Tale Foundry. For adjacent suggestions that can help build up alternate perspectives that aren't directly about writing but are about critical thinking with stories (which is frankly an important skill to have), I definitely recommend Princess Weekes, Accented Cinema, Now You See It, Dominic Noble, The Storyteller, and Pop Culture Detective. A lot of this is discussing film (save Dominic Noble, who also talks about books a Lot), but the core essence of storytelling is helpful regardless of what angle it comes in - be it video game, movie, tv, or book reviews and analyses.

Actual writing. Varies on the person on if they do outlines or not and how, but I still recommend trying to do an outline when you're first starting out. One habit to immediately knock yourself out of is writing things chronologically. If you're working on a big piece and have more energy to write something in the middle? Put that in a new doc and leave a placeholder for where you're at. Legitimately, getting words on the paper is more important than those words being good. Because you can always come back and edit things to make sense.

Always edit what you write. I hate the "no beta we die like real men" attitude because people will dunk on editing but then praise stories for having "firm and satisfying" connections which can only really be built through editing. Your first draft is your rough idea. Your second one is when you read through and have it make sense. Three is making that make sense, and maybe 4 is more just grammar and spelling errors. Edit as many times necessary to make sure you like it.

Always work in broad strokes, then move in finer like with anything. Do a general idea for a story, then your main story beats, then how you connect them together, and then the nitty gritty of each. Keep lots of notes - do not rely on your head solely for everything - and just also be willing to let things go if they change.

What I tend to do when I write is I want a good flow. I often get that from reading my writing out loud to hear how it sounds, but I'm looking for a good beat to read along. Because even if the sentence is grammatically correct and structurally sound, it may not be very interesting to read. Like you could say someone feigned a polite expression to not let the other person know that they didn't feel comfortable with a topic, or you could go the angle I went with recently of "she painted herself an interested expression to wear as dread began to gnaw at her gut." Sometimes the more colorful or out there the language is, the better it sounds when you read it. Like instead of saying "that's just how things go for them" you could say, "but Fate had a funny way of making her disdain known for (X character)". And this is where reading other peoples' work comes in real handy because you can get a lot of examples of how people write things.

I also try and reflect themes of the story into the writing itself, like this section of a draft:

Still nothing.  Seemed he wasn’t going to bother with a glass, instead just ripping the top off of some bottle of gin and tipping it back with little regard for himself. Still that chronometer ticked on; still that taught tension like another arrow had been drawn.  A million and more things flooded Ysayle’s mind, itching to loose them at Estinien, yet found herself stuck in indecision as she stared daggers into him - ever her opposite as he just seemed despondent.  The gin bottle hit the extended shelf loudly; one hand a fist around the bottle, the other balled up on the surface - knuckles as white as bone. Still, Estinien said naught. Still, the chronometer ticked on. Still, Ysayle’s heart roared in her ears - poisonous words damming up her throat.

The theme of this story is avoiding the mistakes of the past. How things often can wind up cyclical, and the goal is to break from those cycles and repeats. So naturally, several points of the narration itself repeat itself. This isn't standard writing style, but it gets that point across by repeating "Still" as the scene crawls on. I also use a lot of alliteration in my writing because I personally find it fun? So "a maddening matter made most malign", for example.

It also helps to change up how you write or what descriptors you use based on the character whose head you're in, even if it's third person. Third person can have a voice and I often use it to speak aloud a character's thoughts instead of relying on italicized dialogue-thoughts. It makes the dialogue-thoughts appearing hit more when they do instead of just having to be subjected to internal ramblings constantly. Like in this fic I just published:

“...Can we talk about it on the morn?” “What for?” You don’t know what it is you ask of me. “Tired,” Estinien said with a shrug. “We’ve morning patrol, remember?”

Compared to this fic:

“Yes, confusingly.”  Her tone was flat as she leaned once again on Surkukteni’s shoulder, thankfully on the uninjured side.  “I fear I may have been wrong, though I truly doubt it.  To deny me twice, then throw a fit?  I wonder — why didn’t you go through with it?” Not even Surkukteni had that answer.  For the umpteenth time during that conversation, she refused to look at Her Darkness.  That desire — twisted and poisoned as it was — was one that still surfaced from time to time, yet like clockwork made her ill and was banished from her thoughts.  Why was that?  She felt scorned back then, wishing the universe would correct this error in sparing him but taking Ysayle — but was she not the one who helped save him?  Who helped tear those eyes from his armor?  She easily could — and had previously — bluffed that it was to destroy the eyes and be rid of the threat, but given her hesitancy now? Why?

All of Surkukteni's thoughts are condensed into the narration so that I can separate out her thought dialogue from idle musings since she - specifically - has a connection with something that can talk telepathically. This thing comments on the literal narration of the story, so when she's directly addressing this thing it's thought-dialogue. But her actual thoughts become narration to avoid spending too much time with that, as I find it's better used sparingly.

Motivation for writing is probably the hardest thing, and best I can advise is to get really into critiquing the stuff you like because you wind up finding a lot of material in fix-it stuff, or just wanting to see more of stuff like you. It's part of what drives my xiv stuff due to how they treat female characters, and I really just wanna see more sapphic bi4bi. So considering it's something I've been stuck in for a very long time now and really like the ambient lore and wish it would do better, it's fueling my desire to write. And from there, there are so many other angles to take - like building ocs, building lore. Finding a sandbox is genuinely one of the best ways to do it. Again, like. You'd be surprised at how much is there because of spite. LOTR has Eowyn because Tolkien didn't like that the "can be killed by no man" thing in Macbeth was resolved with a character born by c-section, so he instead wrote Eowyn, the woman who killed the Witch-King of Angmar. C.S. Lewis didn't like the fact that Tolkien believed that modern technology - or slightly less modern technology - didn't believe in fantasy and he explicitly cited lampposts. And this is why there's just a random light post in the middle of nowhere in the Narnia books.

Critique is good and healthy. I'm critical with the stuff I like and my own things so I can work on them and myself. It's fine to like something that you don't wholly agree with, especially if you're using it to inform how you build on it or build your own things. Like I dunno, I looked at Dante from Devil May Cry and went "what if he was trans" and now I've got Rhombi, a character who has stepped really far away from the OG Dante mould, but you can still see hints of it as I used what I wanted to see out of DMC to build this bisexual disaster of a guy. I was disappointed by Elsword not really committing to some of their character concepts, so I kinda just took Eve (and admittedly Add) and made them into Celes and Neilos and took them to their logical conclusions. All three of them were originally fantrolls at some point, so most of the heavy lifting was done when I was back in Homestuck and all I had to do was scrub the barcodes off of them to build them up in an original verse.

Chemistry is also crucial. If characters aren't vibing, move on. Do not force it. Good chemistry can save a bad story (eg. FFXV) and bad chemistry can ruin a good story. Often it's the characters that drive a story so you need to do a lot of plotting and planning. Most writing is honestly just planning before putting the words down.

And I'm very much so rambling by now but my main points are these (+ others I'm realizing while typing):

Plot a Lot and keep lots of notes, and also organize those notes. The contents don't have to be pretty, but you'll thank yourself in advance if you at least sort them by core idea

Getting words down is more important than getting them down correctly. You can always come back and edit it when you have an idea of how to make it work

You can always place a [insert scene here] tag so you can keep your flow and don't get caught on something.

You also don't have to write chronologically - you wanna write the big confession scene before the intro? do it! just jump right into it!

also don't be afraid to delete stuff or remove it from your draft. save things for later to see if they work elsewhere, because maybe it could be a better spinoff.

dont listen to the advice of "if it really matters, you'll remember it in the morning" that advice was given by neurotypicals who don't have memory issues. make notes of EVERYTHING and then delete the ones that don't work

sometimes writing by hand vs computer can really make a difference in how you think. handwriting is slower and makes you think about stuff, so you may want to keep journals for random snippets or ideas like how doodling is good for building up your habit of drawing

Outlines can help but how you outline is up to you. Try a few styles out and go with what works best.

I cannot stress enough that having something like a marker board to write out your broad stroke story ideas is really really nice

Broad strokes first, then narrow it further and further down. Don't get wrapped up in the nitty gritty details

Chemistry is crucial and can often save a piece you're not fully feeling.

Read your stuff out loud while editing because it can help point out stuff that's not jiving! I find it helps a lot with dialogue

Read a lot. Listen to critique. Be more critical. Also don't limit your idea of stories to just books - expand the media you consume and you'll find really interesting stories that can help with yours

Don't be afraid to use tropes, but also don't super rely on them to where you're just checking off boxes instead of coming up with natural scenarios built on chemistry (eg. having the nerdy goth girl is fine, but the way the trope ends in most media ("fixing" her or just having her be a quirky cynical critic) may not fit with your story and it may be better to see how the story plays out rather than forcing it into something it's not)

Iron Widow is a good example here: the relationship between Zetian and Yizhi is pre-established and comes off as sort of "boy next door" vibes, or at least the very dedicated childhood friend. It quickly becomes apparent that he's as much a co-conspirator in her plans as Shimin is. The guy can be ruthless when given the chance, and that's how Yizhi goes beyond the initial trope and defines himself outside of it. Same with the contextualization of Shimin's seeming "aggression" as the "bad boy" and figuring out where that problem/persona actually stems from, and then the shift of viewing it as less aggression and more retaliation and self preservation.

Find something you do really want to write about, like filling a void in a piece of media you like or doing a take on media that made you mad or disappointed. Jane Eyre is technically fanfiction because the author wanted to see more of Jane and didn't get that. The Divine Comedy is self insert fanfiction of Dante Alighieri as he does worldbuilding with Christian mythos regarding heaven and hell. The Riordan verse is his interest in mythology crossed with a desire to give his son a protag that was like him (specifically ADHD and dyslexic), which then became wanting to let kids see themselves in the different halfbloods in the series.

There's a lot of ways you can get started writing, but the best way is to just write goofy stuff for yourself. Get out stuff that may look bad at first, but you go back and read it and critique it. Just getting yourself into the habit of writing helps a lot, because again: it matters less about the quality, and more getting it on the page and actually having something. You can always fine-tune writing, after all.

My first FFXIV fic isn't actually even published. It was just me writing something rambly about my Warrior of Light when I was starting to figure her character out. It looks nothing like what I'm doing now in part because that fanfiction became a launching point for me to work on others. I've got a lot of drafts that will never see the light of day because these were proto-concepts that became the stuff I wound up publishing. It's fine to have drafts that remain drafts because you can take that as practice, and practice is good. Anything that you write has value because you can use it to let your technical writing skills mature.

Also, don't be afraid to look for help. There are beta services on tumblr (or at least used to be when I was a teenager), plenty of writing guides or places set up to ask questions, plenty of youtubers that give prompts for you to work with. The hardest part is always getting started. But once you get past the awkwardness of the start, everything just falls into place and gets easier the longer you go at it.

You definitely have the desire for it because I've seen your very deep love of literature through the Bi-Library, so you can definitely become a strong writer if you put your mind to it 🫶 Find something to fix or address, and that usually is what gets the ball rolling. Worldbuilding is fun and can lead to something, but you can't have a well built world without a story to explore it.

Characters drive story, story is how you explore themes and the world itself, and the world itself is built on your experiences and interests. Embrace the fact that this is coming from your lens and experiences, because no media is truly void of the author and its other creators. Embrace that fact and use it as an extension of yourself. But really, just write. Literally anything. Just get into the habit of writing, and it'll progress from there!

[unfrieddough11]

Notes game! I’ve seen a bunch on my feed and my life’s falling apart so why not

10 notes- I’ll get caught up on all my math homework

25 notes- I’ll eat 3 full meals a day for 3 days

27 notes- my special number!! If your the 27th note you win this trophy 🏆 

50 notes- I’ll talk to my mom about switching therapists 

75 notes- I’ll be finally draw portraits of all my ocs 

100 notes- ill eat lunch every day for a entire week

125 notes- …I’ll plan an overnight trip with all my friends (we haven’t hung out in a long time)

150 notes- I’ll make a fully drawn comic of my ocs

200 notes- I’ll journal every day for a month

250 notes- I’ll tidy my room

300 notes- I’ll wash my laundry and fold my laundry

350 notes- I’ll check in with my friend who’s kinda struggling (I’m very anxious about this..)

500 notes- at the crazy chance that I get here, I’ll uhh ask my crush to dance?

550 notes- I’ll clean and organize my closet

600- wowie I don’t think I’ll get here but if I do I’ll go clothes shopping ( i barely own any stuff)

650 notes- ill text my crush 🤭 (social anxiety 😦)

NEW GOALS: (since this is still getting notes)

700: I’ll dye my hair orple

800: I’ll work out twice a week

900: I’ll take my dogs for a walk every week

1000: I have no idea, I’ll get a suggestion from some friends

1200: I’ll get noise cancellation headphones for my noise issues (I’ve been putting it off for so long)

2000: some absurd goal cause i probably won’t get here: I’ll write that atla modern au middle school fic I’ve been meaning to write for ages

No rules, as many notes per person as they please

okay change of plans. The notes limit is 50 for comments (sorry)

Edit: 150 notes! Thanks guys oh wowie thank you KitKat for your battalion. Now for the notes we reached:

10: I finished and turned them in! It feels much better to be free

25: I’ll be doing it for the next 3 days, update on another post at the end of the challenge

27: trophy delivered to my beloved KitKat

50: I’ll do it tomorrow morning, wish me luck

75: I’ve clear my weekend schedule, expect an art post soon

100: whelp time to eat next week, I’ll let you guys know how it goes

(and I can’t eat breakfast today cause I’m getting blood drawn)

125: time to get to planning, I’ll also let you know when it happens

150: well time to clear my schedule, this one may take a few weekends cause I want to do the anatomy by myself

200: whelp I’ll update on that

250: I’ll do that now

300: did that this morning

350: I’ll do that

500: there’s a dance this Saturday Soo we’ll see how that goes. Update: we slow danced

550: 🥲 time to clean

600: next weekend

650: ahhh nooo 🫢 im terrified. I will do it though, it has been comanded

[retrosabers]

𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬.

*relationship & smut hcs written with fem!reader in mind*

contains: a lot of angst (mentions of insecurity, past trauma), some relationship fluff, 18+ SMUT CONTENT BELOW THE CUT. MINORS DNI (praise kink, dry humping, fem receiving oral, a tinge of dirty talk)

word count: 2.2k

a/n: if you had a dollar for everytime i apologized for not posting, boy would you be rich LMAO

this writer’s block is no bueno. but, i can sense my bucky era coming back full throttle and i think he might be the cure. enjoy these unnecessarily angsty hcs in the meantime ;) and feel free to share any of your own!

GENERAL/PERSONALITY:

is very fond of the outdoors. he’s not a “take a hike and run a mile” kind of guy, but he gets genuine enjoyment and relaxation from sitting on a park bench and breathing in the fresh air and soaking in his surroundings. one afternoon you surprised him with a trip to a botanical garden on the outskirts of the city and he absolutely loved it. you don’t think you’ve ever seen bucky more at peace than when he was wandering amongst the greenery without an ounce of tension in his body.

can’t stand clutter. once he warms up to acquiring more belongings, everything has its designated place and it needs to stay that way. call it a mild case of ocd, or an undying need to control the ins and outs of his day to day life, but bucky can’t even think about shutting down for the night if his apartment is a mess. any files out on the table get tucked away in a well organized filing cabinet, dishes are dried and placed in the cupboard, laundry is either in the hamper or folded neatly in its respective drawer. he keeps everything as neat and pristine and possible for the sake of his sanity.

one of the only useful pieces of advice he retained from therapy was journaling. bucky still struggles a bit with verbalizing his feelings, so he often just writes them all down in lieu of talking it out. after he realizes just how much it works, he starts to journal about his days in detail. doesn’t matter if he’s feeling calm, or anxious, or how mundane the itinerary is, he makes sure to document it. partly because of the relief it brings, and just in case something happens to his memory again.

secret candle enthusiast, except it’s just one specific scent. you bought it for him as a housewarming present and he was absolutely certain that it was going to smell atrocious. what could possibly be so great about amber vanilla musk. turns out it’s the most perfect gift you ever could’ve given, so much so that he snuck over to bath and body works the next day to buy another one. the aroma fits him in a way that’s indescribable, plus it makes his apartment feel more like somewhere he wants to be rather than has to. it’s become a running gag to gift him one for every special occasion, and he always accepts it with a small, appreciative smirk.

this man is a real life disney princess. animals follow him EVERYWHERE and he’s got no clue as to why. you say it’s because they can sense at his core that he’s kind and gentle, and he always waves it off with a frown and a grumble (and a blush he desperately tries to hide). he feeds all the strays on his block, and eventually caves and brings one of them home. when you went to his place and found a tiny white kitten sitting on the counter, you thought you were hallucinating. then bucky walked in and gave a little scratch between her ears and it all pieced together.

“i knew it,” you mutter knowingly, eyes fixated on the way she preens from his touch. “you’re just a big ol’ softie.” bucky doesn’t offer any sort of rejection or rebuttal, only a halfway pointed stare before simply scooping the little animal into his arms and showing her off to you like she was a rare jewel.

he is very opposed to listening to current music, and the only way you can even remotely convince him to give things a try is if they’re on vinyl. it’s a happy medium, because even though the tunes may be vastly different than back in the 40s, he still has the familiar comfort of a record player. it’s still an uphill battle to get him to listen to anything made after 1950, but persuasion comes a bit easier when you pull out a record from your personal collection.

*psst. i have a fic about this you can kinda read about this here*

introducing him to doordash was a mistake because this man racks up an insane charge on his credit card with takeout. he hates the unnecessary socialization aspect of ordering at a restaurant so you best believe those delivery apps are his best friend.

loves to bitch and complain about maintaining his bike when in reality he enjoys it far more than he’d ever care to admit. he likes being able to fix something; to put his hands to good use and they actually have a positive impact instead of negative. offers to help any of the old timers at the va with their bikes if they have any trouble.

you know how some people get seasonal depression during the winter months from the bleak weather? bucky has that times a million, because the bone chilling cold never fails to trigger his ptsd, and send him right back into reliving his hydra days of being frozen against his will. when you catch wind of it, you make it a note to try and spend as much time with him as you can; make sure he’s not alone or that he at least has something else to occupy his mind other than his traumatic memories as the winter soldier.

IN A RELATIONSHIP:

old fashioned in the best way possible. while he strongly agrees with most of the 21st century’s stance on gender equality, he’ll never stop believing it’s a man’s job to take care of his woman. don’t get it twisted, he never tries to stifle your independence; it’s one of the many things he loves about you. but bucky can’t help but be a little “old-timey”; whether that be paying for your meals, or encouraging you to take a day off to relax while he’s working. it’s one of the only things he’s happy to have hardwired in his brain.

not entirely fond of pda but will ALWAYS have a hand on you when you’re out and about. usually a protective arm slung over your shoulder or a hand pressed into the small of your back. something that keeps you close to him for safety reasons, and also to let everyone else know that you’re taken.

doesn’t like to admit it but he can be a tad bit possessive. when you’ve spent nearly a century having zero control over your life and your choices, being territorial is inevitable. bucky will be damned if he loses the one good thing he’s ever had, especially to some punk who needs to learn how to back off. it’s a bit irritating at first, but once he lets his walls down and confesses the reason behind his actions, you let the man stake his claim every now and then. only because you know there’s no toxic intent behind it and because it’s lowkey a little hot.

#1 cheek kisser oh my GOD. this might not make sense to some people but if you’ve ever seen grey’s anatomy, derek has the most gentle way of kissing meredith on the cheek and that’s exactly how i picture buck.

the “i hate everyone but you” boyfriend (except he’s not really mean to anyone per se, he just does a complete 180 and turns into a big pile of mush when you’re around.)

king of random gestures. he loves making you happy and will take just about any opportunity he can to see you smile. you got a raise at your job? there’s a bouquet with a note waiting at your desk. sometimes you’ll come home to little “just because” presents on your dining room table because bucky can’t help but find little glimpses of you everywhere he goes. it’s his unspoken way of showing just how much he loves and appreciates you.

when he’s tired and grumpy he 100% does grabby hands (with a sweet lil pout might i add) to get you to come into bed and it’s the cutest thing ever.

sam wasn’t kidding when he said bucky’s got a staring problem, but it’s much more endearing in a romantic context. he finds you so beautiful, so mesmerizing; how is he not supposed to stare? and it won’t always be because he’s admiring you externally. sometimes he’ll be so caught up thinking about how lucky he is that you; sweet, kind, funny, and caring you, chose him as your person. he can’t help it if his eyes are glued to you while he’s pondering. everytime you catch him, he breaks out that shy little smile of his, and you find yourself falling in love all over again.

“you’re staring y’know,” you tease, feeling your face warm under his observation. he just shrugs, gaze unwavering as he saunters closer. “can’t help it.” he always take pride in watching you grow flustered as he closes the gap and presses a sweet kiss to your lips.

hot take: everytime i see “doll” used in fics for him i cringe real bad. i see bucky as more of a “honey” and “sweetheart” kind of guy. more honey than anything. in all honesty, i don’t see him breaking out pet names often, but if he’s going to, it’s one of those.

throws you over his shoulder like it’s absolutely nothing when you’re being difficult or arguing because he knows it’s a way to help playfully ease tension, as silly as it is. if he can get you laughing then you’re not mad, and if you’re not mad, he can reason with you a little better. it also leads to some very delicious sex afterwards when he conveniently drops you onto the mattress.

he’ll do the sweetest thing where if your hands are full this man will come up behind you and either put your hair in a braid or a ponytail (a pretty decent one might i add) if you need it away from your face. it’s always sealed with a kiss to the crown of your head and a squeeze of your hip, and never fails to give you butterflies.

SMUT:

i swivel back and forth between thinking that he’d be a bit hesitant or shaky with intimacy or that he knows how to please a woman in under five minutes. i honestly believe it’s somewhere in the middle; that while he does indeed have experience from his whore days back in the 40s, nowadays he’s not as willing to get to that point with someone unless there are deep feelings involved.

with that being said, when bucky decides to take that step in your relationship, boy does it take you by surprise. there’s a level of confidence that comes with being able to satisfy someone with such skill and ease, and he’s got it down pat. he’s even a little bit cocky with it, looking down at you smugly after your first orgasm, and it only amplifies your already flaming attraction to the super soldier.

nine times out of ten, sex is focused on your pleasure; he’s not cumming until you’ve cum at least once, and he’s not giving you a half assed release either. no, he’s working hard to make sure you see stars every damn time.

pussy eating king and i don’t think i need to elaborate on that.

is always down for a good dry hump. bucky loves kissing, kissing you more than anything, and one day he was particularly worked up, and it just…well it just happened. he was bright red once he realized what happened, but you quickly quelled any embarrassment he felt when you expressed that it was insanely hot. he didn’t even remotely understand why, until the next time it occurred. you were the one who came prematurely. and that, was when bucky understood the arousal behind it. now he’s got no qualms about having a good old fashioned makeout that may or may not end with a shared orgasm.

praise kink praise kink PRAISE KINK. it’s something he tries his hardest to hide but the boner he pops whenever you tell him he’s doing a good job in non intimate settings, and the increased speed of his thrusts when it happens during sex, are a dead giveaway. you tell bucky he’s being so good for you, making you feel so fucking good, and that man’s a goner. in his brain, it’s refreshing, exciting almost, to be told that he’s doing the right thing after a lifetime of being forced to make the wrong choices. what better place to hear that he’s right on track than when he’s with his lover?

hung. as. fuck.

i don’t foresee him being very vocal, but when he is, jesus take the wheel. somehow he always knows what to say and when to say it, no matter how few and far between the occasions may be.

“that feel good honey? yeah that’s right it fuckin’ does.” “always gonna take real good care of my girl.”

i don’t care if he’s got the serum stamina i 100% see this man conking out after sex. while he may be able to last a few rounds, the second you call it quits, the exhaustion overtakes him and he’s snoring into your pillow, but not before he pulls you close and peppers your face with kisses, muttering a final “i love you” before succumbing to slumber.

thanks for reading! <3

taglist: @dameronology @j4desblurbs @pandapetals

[venusveil]

Unpopular opinion

(about the zodiac placements)

[⚠️ Disclaimer: This post contains mature content. Viewer discretion advised.]

☃︎Virgo Moons aren't clean freaks — they’re just emotionally constipated with a label maker.

☃︎Scorpio Risings don’t intimidate people — they just look like they hate everyone (including themselves).

☃︎Someone said Leo Moon Needs attention like plants need sun. And I gasped dramatically. (a Leo Moon)

☃︎Pisces Rising doesn’t have “aesthetic” — they have main character delusions with a blurry filter.

☃︎Libra/Scorpio is loyal... but only when they feel like you’re giving them main character energy. If not? Bye.

☃︎Pisces Mercuries will lie to your face cry about it and then forget they even did it.

☃︎Sagittarius Venuses don’t fear commitment — they fear boredom. Yes, that includes you babe.

☃︎Venus in Aquarius has Detachment kink. Will have you in a situationship for 3 years and call it “energy exchange.” Wants to be your partner, best friend, cult leader, and FBI agent.

☃︎ A Mars in Leo partner Will f*ck you like it’s an Olympic sport and expect a 10/10 review. Gets angry if you don’t moan their name like a prayer.

☃︎I’ve got Sagittarius Mercury in the 3rd — anytime something bad, good, or nostalgic hits me, I write. Been journaling since I was 9, mostly about people and how I see them.

☃︎Gemini Suns are not two-faced — they just have 87 tabs open and one of them is definitely plotting.

☃︎Libra Risings don’t flirt they’re just trying to survive awkward social tension by being extra friendly.

☃︎Cancer Suns aren’t sweethearts — they’re passive-aggressive historians of every wrong ever done to them.

☃︎Mars in Gemini will talk you into a threesome, ghost you, then DM you a month later like nothing happened.

☃︎Cancer Mars is horny for emotional danger. If it doesn’t feel like a toxic situationship. they’re not turned on.

☃︎Venus in Leo gets off on jealousy. Flirting in front of their partner is foreplay not betrayal.

☃︎Virgo Venus is secretly into degradation kink but will judge your grammar mid-hookup.

☃︎Aries Mercury wants to argue just to get horny. “I hate you” = “Take your pants off.” hehe.

☃︎Aquarius Mars will ghost you mid-sex to “reconnect with their higher self.”

☃︎Libra Sun will pretend they’re innocent but their search history says otherwise. The first time I met my best friend (she's a libra) I literally thought she was the most innocent person ever. In reality she's far away from innocence.

☃︎Taurus Moon doesn’t care about your feelings unless you’re in their bed and brought snacks. Preferably both.

☃︎Capricorn Venus doesn’t fear love — they fear looking stupid for loving someone.

☃︎Libra Mercury isn’t a good communicator — they just know how to dodge accountability with charm.

☃︎I don’t hate Geminis — I actually love them.Except the ones with Pisces mixed in.Those are lying, manipulative chaos goblins. Sorry not sorry.

☃︎Sagittarius Moon isn’t deep — they just trauma-dump and leave.

☃︎Scorpio Mercury doesn’t keep secrets — they collect yours.

☃︎Aquarius Sun – Thinks they’re mysterious but just avoidant and allergic to real connection.

☃︎One thing about Aquarius: they’ll treat their friends like family, but stay emotionally detached from their actual family.

☃︎Libra Moon – Can’t process their own emotions, but gives everyone else therapy

☃︎Libra & Taurus placements do love beauty, but will still date the most questionable-looking people ever.

Libra/Taurus Venus or Mars, though? Nah. We need to be visually obsessed. I’m a Libra Venus & Mars — tried dating someone I wasn’t into ended up isolating myself.

☃︎Scorpio Sun + Leo Moon They will watch your story 5x, analyze your texts, and never admit it. These baddie falls first. But they’ll die before telling you. (I'll die single but never admit that I've crush on you.)

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[teaboot]

do you think i'll ever get to a place in my life where i'm actually a good person and i don't keep getting bombarded with people telling me all the ways i'm doing things wrong. will i ever stop feeling like i'm faking being good and i'm actually a despicable person deep down inside like there's something rotten and irremovable in the very core of me. i feel sick

As a recovering self-hater I have a few things that have been helping

Truly shitty people are typically, in my experience, not chronically preoccupied with anxieties that they need to be better. It seems to be the 100% rock-solid certainty that everything you ever do is selfless that you need to watch out for.

Motive only matters in court. If you donate 30 hours a week to charity so you can tell yourself you're a good person or you donate that same time because you genuinely enjoy helping people, that's still 30 hours, imo. At that point the argument is more philosophical than anything. The help is still happening.

Nobody can read your mind. You can be the bitterest, cattiest, most judgemental and mean-spirited motherfucker alive, but as long as you don't let your feelings hurt others, you're golden. In fact, I personally think you should get extra credit for effort. Swimming upriver ain't easy

None of us are selfless by nature. That's okay. We all crave attention, and validation, and comfort, and reward. That self-interest is a survival skill. It's not going anywhere and I don't think it should. The key is moderation, self control, and consideration for others.

The loudest voice in your head probably isn't yours. Survivors of all kinds of abuse- and all abuse is psychological to varying extremes- often keep their critic's narrative in their head. That voice that says you're awful- is that something you'd say to someone else? No? Then try to figure out who said it to you. They were probably an asshole. The voice that answers it it probably your own. Listen to that one

No, you will not feel like this forever. It's a pain in the ass, but dedicating time and thought into ignoring that inner critic and elevating your positive impulses is effective.

Some things I've done myself that seem to help:

Do some research on cognitive behavioral therapy and cognitive reprogramming. These are easier to exercise with a therapist but once you figure out the steps to follow you can do them on your own, too.

When you do something good, write it down for yourself. Keep a dated journal, either on paper or in your phone. When you find yourself in a pit of self-loathing, you can go back and remind yourself of all the good you've done. If this is hard, try listing 3 good things you did at the end of each day. Anything from picking up a scrap of litter to running a food drive.

Long post, but really, the best thing I can say is this:

Aything that takes effort is worth celebrating, even if that effort is minimal or that task is considered small.

At the end of the day, "bare minimum" isn't working a full-time job and eating three meals a day, cleaning up after yourself and doing it with a smile- bare minimum is nothing. Bare minimum is laying on the floor motionless for 24 hours and filter-feeding like a sea sponge. And if even that's difficult for you, then it's not your bare minimum, is it?

There's a lot of cruel, inconsiderate, uncaring people in the world, only out for themselves at the expense of others, and even if you think you're one of them, giving a shit about doing better still puts you a mile ahead of most.

Try not to worry too terribly. If you're thinking about it, you're probably doing fine👍

[plutosunshine]

What Is Your Subconscious Trying to Tell You? Planets in the 12th House

Sun in the 12th house

That’s like the universe saying, “You’re powerful, radiant, and deeply gifted… but let’s play hide-and-seek with it for a while.”

The subconscious here is kind of whispering instead of yelling. It’s like, “Hey, you’ve got this inner light, but it works best when you're alone, dreaming, meditating, or doing something wildly imaginative at 3 a.m.” You’re not the “spotlight” type — you’re more like the candle in a quiet temple. Subtle, sacred, and kinda mysterious.

It might also mean your sense of self (the Sun) is on a journey through a foggy forest. You feel things deeply, often without knowing where it’s all coming from. But that’s the 12th house way — it’s not linear, it’s more “vibes and visions.”

Sometimes this placement is like your soul signed up for a retreat in this lifetime: “Let’s develop compassion, spiritual insight, and psychic Wi-Fi.” But occasionally, it forgets it also has to go grocery shopping and file taxes, which is less magical.

Your subconscious wants you to stop trying to be someone else’s idea of “visible” and start honoring the quiet power you already have. It’s telling you: “You're not here to be loud — you’re here to be luminous in silence.”

Basically, you’re the kind of person who might not post selfies every day, but when you do, everyone’s like “Damn, who is this ethereal being?”

The trick? Spend time in solitude, trust your dreams, and don’t be afraid of your own depth. Your Sun’s not lost — it’s just meditating.

Moon in the 12th house

Ah, Moon in the 12th house — aka “Feelings? Yes. Do I understand them? Not always. Do I absorb the emotional state of every plant, cloud, and stranger’s sneeze? Absolutely.”

This is the placement of the secret empath, the cosmic sponge, the person whose emotional radar is so sensitive it picks up on vibes that haven't even happened yet. Your subconscious basically lives in a cozy, candle-lit cave with a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign, journaling about things your conscious mind hasn’t figured out.

You might cry during shampoo commercials and have no idea why. Spoiler: it’s not about the shampoo — it’s probably unresolved childhood stuff, or your neighbor's breakup energy floating through the walls.

The Moon rules emotions, instincts, and your inner child — and when it’s tucked into the 12th house, it's like your feelings are behind a curtain. Sometimes you don’t even realize how deeply affected you are until your cat looks at you weird and suddenly you're having a 3-hour existential crisis.

Your subconscious here is constantly trying to process and heal old emotional baggage — not just from this life, but possibly from past ones too. (Yup, we’re going full mystical.) It’s like your dreams, gut feelings, and random waves of nostalgia are all part of your soul’s therapy sessions.

And the message? Feel your feels. Even if you don’t understand them. Spend time alone. Journal. Swim. Meditate. Cry at art. Be weird and emotional in a safe, private bubble. That’s where your magic lives.

Also — protect your energy. You’re not crazy. You're just psychic and slightly haunted in a beautiful way.

Mercury in the 12th house

Mercury in the 12th house is like having a genius poet locked in the attic of your mind. They write incredible things, uncover deep truths, have brilliant thoughts... but they don’t always send the memo down to your conscious brain. Or if they do, it gets lost in translation somewhere between “dream logic” and “wait, what was I saying again?”

This is the placement of secret thinkers, inner philosophers, and psychic messengers. You may come across as quiet or daydreamy, but under the surface your brain is a labyrinth of thoughts, insights, and deeply intuitive connections. Mercury here doesn’t shout — it whispers from the shadows like, “Psst, I know something you don’t know…”

It might show up as overthinking in the middle of the night, or having whole conversations in your head that are more interesting than real-life small talk. You may also randomly blurt something super profound, and everyone’s like “Whoa… where did that come from?” and you’re like “I… don’t know??”

Also, let’s be real — your subconscious is a talker. It just prefers dreams, music, symbols, and spiritual downloads instead of bullet points. Mercury in the 12th is more Rumi than PowerPoint.

And your subconscious message? Trust the way your mind works, even if it’s not “normal.” Write things down. Record your dreams. Let your creativity out in weird, wordy, wonderful ways. You don’t have to explain your thoughts to everyone — sometimes they’re meant to be decoded slowly, like secret scrolls.

You’re not forgetful. You’re just tuned to a frequency that plays between the lines.

Venus in the 12th house

Ohhh, this one is pure soft poetry and tragic romance vibes. It’s like your heart lives in a secret garden with a “no entry unless you’re telepathic” sign on the gate.

You love deeply — sometimes even before you consciously realize it. Love sneaks up on you. Crushes feel like dreams. You might be drawn to unavailable people (emotionally, geographically, or dramatically). Why? Because Venus in the 12th doesn’t always want a simple rom-com — it wants a soul story with plot twists.

You might also hide your love. Maybe you don’t want to “bother” someone with your feelings. Maybe you fall in love in silence, or love people in ways they never even realize — like a secret admirer… but spiritual. Your subconscious is like, “Let’s keep this precious thing hidden so no one can hurt it.” (Cute, but exhausting.)

Also, you give love selflessly. Venus here is the friend who will help you move at midnight, bake you cookies when you’re sad, and never mention how much you mean to them. Why? Because they assume you already feel it. (Spoiler: not everyone does. Use your words, magical creature.)

Your subconscious is whispering: “You are worthy of love that doesn’t require self-sacrifice to feel real.” Not all love has to be painful, secret, or karmic. You deserve joy, softness, and being loved out loud. Let people love you back. Let your heart be seen, even if it feels scary.

And one more thing? You’re lowkey magnetic. People pick up on that Venusian glow even if you’re trying to hide behind your coffee cup. So maybe step out of the fog once in a while. Love is looking for you too — it just needs a map.

Mars in the 12th house

Ahhh Mars in the 12th house — the warrior monk of the zodiac. It’s like your inner fighter went on a silent retreat and only throws punches in dreams, poetry, or deep existential crises.

Mars is action, drive, anger, desire. But in the 12th house? It’s doing push-ups in the shadows. You have energy, fire, and passion… but it might come out sideways, secretly, or at completely inconvenient times like “why am I suddenly furious at this paperclip?”

Sometimes you’re not even sure what you’re mad at — you just feel pressure building, like there’s a volcano inside that occasionally sighs dramatically through a vent. Or maybe you hesitate to assert yourself because confrontation feels unsafe or unclear. Mars here often learns early in life: “It’s not safe to show anger.” So you tuck it away… until it punches the inside of your ribcage.

But don’t worry — your subconscious has a plan.

Mars in the 12th is like spiritual kung fu. It wants you to use your strength not just to win arguments, but to fight for your healing, your compassion, your creativity, your dreams. Your drive is sacred, even if it feels slippery.

This placement also gives wild dream energy — you might fight battles, run missions, or fall in lust in your sleep.Honestly, your dream self is probably more assertive than your waking self. (Mars is out there living its best dreamlife.)

Your subconscious is saying: “Stop doubting your power just because it doesn’t look like everyone else’s.” You don’t need to charge into battle — but you do need to claim your space. Take inspired action. Express anger safely. Do physical movement that feels healing. Say no without a 3-page apology.

You’re not passive. You’re just a warrior of the unseen. Mars in the 12th isn’t weak — it’s just training on another level.

Jupiter in the 12th house

Jupiter in the 12th house is like having a guardian angel with a great sense of humor who works undercover. You're walking through life with this invisible cheerleader going, “You don’t know it yet, but I’m totally helping you avoid disasters and manifest blessings behind the scenes.”

This placement is lowkey magical. It gives you luck, protection, and spiritual growth — but in subtle, dreamy, 12th-house ways. It’s not “I won the lottery!” luck. It’s “I missed that train and met the love of my life because of it” luck. Divine timing, secret blessings, the universe whispering “trust me” when everything seems foggy.

You might have this deep, unshakable faith that everything will be okay — even if your logical brain is like, “Girl, how??” That’s Jupiter in the 12th. It’s not loud. It’s not flashy. It’s cosmic reassurance wrapped in a soft blanket of intuition.

Also? You're spiritually wise in ways you might not even realize. You could be the friend who just "knows" what someone needs to hear. Or the person who finds meaning in chaos. Or the one journaling about life purpose at 2 a.m. while others are doomscrolling.

And your subconscious? It’s whispering: “Expand inward.” Grow your inner world. Trust your intuition. Let yourself explore dreams, healing, compassion, art, philosophy — not because they’re “productive,” but because your soul literally needs them.

Also: don’t ignore your gift of helping others — even anonymously. You might be amazing at behind-the-scenes kindness, working in solitude, or just radiating that “safe to cry here” energy. People may not know why they feel better around you — but they do.

So yeah. Jupiter in the 12th? It’s spiritual Wi-Fi with unlimited data. Use it. Share it. Trust it.

Saturn in the 12th house

Saturn in the 12th house is like having a strict, old-school monk living in your subconscious — the kind who wakes you up at 5 a.m. to meditate and reminds you that “suffering builds character.” Thanks, bro.

This placement gives deep inner strength, but not without a bit of existential bootcamp. Saturn here often makes you feel like you're carrying invisible weight. You might not always know why you feel heavy, tired, or a bit lonely — but it’s like your soul remembers every past-life karma, every buried fear, and it’s quietly working through them in the background.

It’s the “I feel guilty for no reason” placement. Or “I don’t even know what I’m afraid of, but I am.” Saturn in the 12th is the cosmic janitor sweeping your inner basement — slowly, methodically, and with a clipboard.

You may also keep your struggles hidden. You might not ask for help, because something inside you says “I have to figure this out alone.” And honestly? You probably do get stronger that way. But also — gentle reminder — you don’t have to do everything the hard way.

Your subconscious is saying: “Face your shadows, but don’t marry them.” You’re here to learn how to carry solitude without it turning into isolation. To build faith and structure in the unseen. To turn fear into discipline. And to realize that your strength isn’t in being hard — it’s in being whole.

Also? You’re probably amazing at long-term healing work, spiritual commitment, and being the quiet rock in chaotic times. You’re not weak — you’re just wired to grow from the inside out, and that takes time.

So be patient with yourself. Your soul’s doing advanced-level homework. You’ll graduate with a PhD in Inner Resilience.

Uranus in the 12th house

Uranus in the 12th house is like having a mad scientist, rebel hacker, and cosmic lightning bolt all living in your subconscious… but they’re working anonymously. Behind the scenes. Wearing a trench coat and sunglasses. At night.

This is the placement of psychic plot twists, intuitive downloads, and freaky deja vu moments. You’ll be chilling and suddenly get a “feeling” not to go somewhere — and then find out later that something chaotic happened there. Or you’ll dream about someone you haven’t seen in five years… and they text you the next day. Classic 12th house Uranus stuff.

There’s a deep inner genius here, but it’s not always available on demand. You don’t always know when inspiration will strike — but when it does, it’s weirdly brilliant. Think: flashes of insight in the shower, sudden “aha!”s at 4 a.m., or radical ideas that come while staring at a wall.

Your subconscious is constantly processing the collective energy. It’s like you’re plugged into the Wi-Fi of the universe — but the signal is unstable and sometimes comes with static and prophetic memes.

You may also crave freedom… in ways you can’t always explain. Like, “I just want to be alone in a cave, reinventing myself every three days, thanks.” You rebel against anything that boxes in your soul, even if no one else sees those boxes. Especially rules that feel outdated or fake.

And your subconscious message? “Liberate yourself from within.” The real revolution is happening behind your eyes — in your dreams, your gut feelings, your untamed thoughts. Trust your intuition, honor your eccentricities, and don’t be afraid to break internal rules you didn’t even know were optional.

You’re not unstable. You’re wired for awakening. Uranus in the 12th doesn’t want you to follow the map — it wants you to channel the lightning.

Neptune in the 12th house

Neptune in the 12th house is like being born with a secret doorway to other realms… but also constantly misplacing the key.

This is peak mystical energy. Your subconscious is basically floating in a foggy, glittery dreamscape where mermaids give life advice and emotions come with a soundtrack. You have intuitive, psychic, or even mediumistic abilities — whether you’ve tapped into them or not. Like, you feel things no one else notices. You soak up moods, signals, and subtle energies like a spiritual sponge wrapped in velvet.

But let’s be honest: sometimes you’re not sure what’s yours and what’s just collective sadness, someone else’s anxiety, or Neptune doing its usual “let’s blur the lines” thing.

You may zone out, daydream, escape into art, fantasy, music, or naps (so many naps). Your subconscious says, “Let me dissolve reality for a bit — it’s too loud out there.”

Neptune here is also like: “Boundaries? Never heard of them.” You might feel compassion for literally everyone — even fictional villains and angry birds at the bus stop. Which is beautiful, but exhausting if you’re not protecting your energy.

And the message from your subconscious? “You are here to connect with the divine — but don’t lose yourself in the fog.” Your superpower is your connection to higher love, imagination, empathy, and art. But you’ve got to anchor it. Ground it. Channel it. Otherwise, it’s like having a gorgeous sailboat with no steering wheel.

You're not “too sensitive.” You’re just tuned into the cosmic frequency that most people ignore. Neptune in the 12th is a portal — and you’re the one who gets to walk through it (just remember to come back for snacks and hydration, okay?).

So dream. Create. Heal. Escape sometimes. But also: have boundaries, routines, and maybe one friend who texts you “hey, are you still on this planet?” every now and then.

Pluto in the 12th house

Pluto in the 12th house? Whew. That’s like having a shadow therapist living in your subconscious, doing deep soul excavation while you’re just trying to make it through Monday.

This placement is intense, transformational, and lowkey kind of psychic. You have emotional X-ray vision — you sense what’s hidden, what’s repressed, what’s not being said. You walk into a room and feel the tension before anyone opens their mouth. You read people without trying. Creepy? Maybe. Accurate? Absolutely.

But here’s the thing: you do the same thing to yourself — digging, unraveling, overanalyzing your own motives, wounds, dreams, fears, past lives, ancestral traumas, karmic loops… all while doing the dishes.

You might carry deep emotional weight that’s not even yours. Pluto in the 12th is often like, “Congrats! You’re the family karma sponge!” (rude, but powerful). Your subconscious is constantly whispering: "There’s more under the surface… keep digging." And you do. Even if it’s uncomfortable. Especially if it’s uncomfortable.

You might also have intense dreams, powerful emotions you can’t always explain, or a strange fascination with all things taboo, mysterious, or dark — psychology, death, sex, power, transformation. Basically, Pluto lives where the sun doesn’t shine, and in the 12th house, it’s got a whole underground palace.

But the beauty? You’re a healer. A transformer. A shadow-walker. You’re here to learn that your darkness isn’t dangerous — it’s sacred. You can help others face their fears because you’ve faced (or are constantly facing) your own. You don’t flinch at other people’s pain. You just get it.

So what’s Pluto in the 12th really trying to tell you?

“Go inward. Let go. Rise from your own ashes. Again. And again. And again.” You’re not broken — you’re evolving. Quietly. Radically. From the soul out.

[cherrystaineddoll]

𝓽hings to do instead of scrolling ౨ৎ

summer is here, school is over and you have way too much free time on your hands. so unless you want to spend your whole days with your eyes locked on a screen, here's an in- depth guide on what to do this summer, or whenever!!

learn a new language - trust me, speaking more than one language is a skill that everyone should have, and it always comes in handy. you can watch tv shows, movies or youtube videos in your target language, read beginner books, use apps (not duolingo though.. ) and even just listen to music!! just expose yourself to the language as much as you can, even better if you know anyone you can have conversations with. you could also learn sign language!!

journal or scrapbook - writing down your feelings really helps understanding your own self more. you can try doing shadow work to really dive deep, or just write whatever you feel in that moment. it doesn't have to become a chore, and remember, write for yourself and not as if someone else was going to read!! as for scrapbooking, just print out some nice photos and decorate the pages with stickers, drawings, fun colored paper.. whatever you want, just be creative!!

make art - it doesn't have to look perfect, remember that all art is beautiful in its own way. even if you think you're not good at it, just create, it will help you feel better & you'll also get better with time!! you can draw, paint, sculpt, do pottery, etc. you don't have to follow any guidelines, just buy a random sketchbook, bring out your inner child and do whatever you feel like doing

learn how to play an instrument - this can be a bit expensive, but if you have any instrument in your house that you've never used, it might be a great time to start learning it!! you don't necessarily need to take classes, you can easily find tutorials on youtube, even though it might be harder to learn by yourself. but making music is a really fun activity & good for the soul

reading and writing - i will never recommend reading enough !! everyone should read. it helps you learn new things, understand different perspectives, expand your vocabulary, and so much more. i know books can be expensive, but you can always try to buy them at flea markets, or ask a friend/family member to lend you some. and just in case, there are always some sites where you can read books online for free, like zlibrary!! you can read before going to bed instead of staying on your phone (which is sooo bad for your sleep), at the beach while tanning or outside while getting some fresh air. and if reading books inspires you, you can try to write something!! i'm not saying you have to write a 600 page book, but you can try to write small stories, or poetry, and who knows, someday you might actually write a book! if you want to get published, there are some small literary magazines you can find on social media that publish the works of small writers, it can be a great way to start. you can also always post your works here on tumblr, substack, or any social media platform!! you could also try to write the story for a movie and start screenwriting, if you're into cinematography

research interesting topics - now that school isn't forcing you to study things that maybe you don't care about, you can study whatever you want !! remember, knowledge is power, and with the internet, you basically have the world in your hands. you can watch a youtube video, read a book, or simply research on websites (make sure they're reliable though). you can also take online courses!! i might make a post on ideas for what to research??

start a new hobby - your life can't only be made of school/work, sleep, and a screen. you need hobbies that you actually like and that make you feel good. some of these can be: baking and cooking, crocheting, knitting, embroidery, jewelry making, nail art, makeup, photography, editing, blogging/vlogging, coloring, candle making, soap making, perfume making, modeling, origami, sewing, making diy stuff, chess, puzzles, acting, singing, flower arranging, meditating, lego building, trying new hairstyles or outfits, doing animations, discovering new music, sudoku, the things i previously wrote, and probably a million other activities i can't think of right now

stay active - moving you body is good for both your physical and mental health, i'm sure we all know that. you can go on walks or runs in the nature with your headpones on, or do any sport that you like- some ideas: swimming, dancing (ballet, hip hop, modern, ecc) , tennis, martial arts (judo, karate, taekwondo, ecc), volleyball, basketball, athletics, gymnastics, football, archery, fencing, table tennis, boxing, surfing, rowing, hockey, horseback riding, softball, golf, biking, figure skating, rollerblading, skating.. you don't need to do it competitively (unless you want to), as long as you're having fun and moving your body. you can also do workouts, like yoga or pilates, at home or outdoors, or go hiking.

watch movies, tv shows, or documentaries - it can always be a good learning experience, or just something fun and relaxing that isn't mindlessly scrolling. a bonus: after you've watched something, write a very long, detailed and in-depth review in your journal. you can also post it wherever you want (like letterboxd, to fight all the one liners)

hang out - with friends, family, or even by yourself !! (i know, i know, it can be scary). you can do anything, as long as you're with the right people everything is fun, but here's some ideas: have a picnic, go to the beach, go to a water park, have a baking contest, do temporary tattoos, go to a concert, go out to eat, do a one day trip, go on a road trip, take a walk in the nature, go hiking, go to a trampoline park, go to an amusement park, visit a museum, go thrifting or shopping, have a board games night, try out a new cute cafe or bakery, do an escape room, have a karaoke night, have a movie marathon, and so much more!!

i hope this helped!! ♡

[ari-ana-bel-la]

Ok, imagine this. Lewis being a father and when he is at Ferrari, his daughter is helping him with his Italian, because daughters mother is from Italy. Maybe Lewis and the Mom still being good friends and daughter always spending a few months in Italy since she has been small so that is why her Italian is so good.

Sorry, English is only my second language!

Rosso e Sole

When Lewis stepped into the Ferrari garage for the first time, clad in red from head to toe, there was a buzz in the air. Not just because of the legend now standing under the Prancing Horse emblem, but because standing beside him, a touch shorter than his shoulder, was a girl with wavy dark hair, sun-kissed skin, and greenish-brown eyes that sparkled like the Italian coast.

Her name was Yn. Sixteen, confident in her quiet way, and with an Italian lilt to her English that made the engineers smile every time she spoke.

“Papa,” she said that morning, standing just outside the hospitality suite, looking up at her dad who was clearly trying to memorize his morning briefing in Italian, “you just said the car is made of bread. You meant carbonio, not pane.”

Lewis blinked down at her. “Wait, really?”

“Veramente,” she smirked. “You said: ‘la macchina è fatta di pane.’ Which would make for a deliciously fragile car.”

He groaned. “Oh my god. Why is this language so hard?”

Yn shrugged, stepping up beside him and tapping on his tablet. “You’ve just got to stop trying to make everything so literal. Italian is a feeling, not a formula.”

Behind them, a few of the mechanics stifled chuckles. One even whispered to a colleague, “La ragazza di Hamilton è meglio di lui in italiano.”

And she was. Always had been.

Yn was born under a hot sun in Tuscany, in a small private hospital where her mother, Maria, had insisted on giving birth near her parents’ home.

Lewis had been there, holding Maria’s hand, tears falling on the baby’s blanket when Yn let out her first cry. They had been young, ambitious, wildly in love, but even then, they both knew that love alone wouldn’t be enough to build the life Yn deserved.

So when Yn was barely a year old, Maria and Lewis sat together on the terrace of Maria’s father’s home, drinking espresso while the baby slept inside, and made a decision that would shape the rest of their lives.

“We’re not going to make each other happy, not in the way we thought,” Maria had said softly.

Lewis nodded, fingers fidgeting with the sugar packet in his hand. “But we’re going to make her happy. That much, I know.”

And they did. They built something beautiful out of what they had. A friendship that turned into a lifelong alliance. Two worlds that somehow always made space for each other.

Yn grew up between two countries, two languages, two lives. When her parents had to be away—photo shoots in Paris, testing in Bahrain—she’d stay with her Nonno and Nonna in a house full of lemon trees, espresso machines, and old records of opera playing in the kitchen.

She never minded. She never resented it. Because her parents never made her feel like she came second. Every reunion was filled with joy, every phone call with love. They never missed a chance to tell her she was adored.

Now at sixteen, Yn was becoming her own person—curious, witty, always carrying a journal around to sketch or write little thoughts in Italian and English. And since Lewis joined Ferrari, she had become somewhat of a celebrity in the paddock.

“Hey, principessa,” called one of the engineers as she passed the garage entrance. “Did your papa learn how to say ‘rear wing’ yet?”

“Not unless he wants to tell you about his red wine again,” she quipped, without even turning around.

That afternoon, Lewis and Yn sat together under the canopy outside the Ferrari motorhome. She was scrolling through her notes app where she’d written down a few helpful phrases for her dad to memorize before his post-qualifying interview.

“Okay,” she said, handing him her phone, “repeat after me: La macchina ha avuto un ottimo bilanciamento oggi.”

Lewis furrowed his brows. “La macchina ha avuto un ottimo... bilanc... bilanciamento... oggi.”

“Perfetto!” she grinned.

“Wait. What did I just say?”

“That the car had great balance today.”

“Right. That’s... true, I guess. We can pretend it did.”

She laughed, and then leaned over to fix his collar.

“Fans love this, you know,” Lewis murmured. “Us talking like this. Teaching me Italian. You’re becoming more famous than me.”

“Impossible,” she teased. “But they do like it. Especially when you mess up.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Papa,” she said, her tone suddenly softer. “You know I love this, right? Being here. With you. Watching you race.”

He looked at her then, his expression warm, the lines around his eyes softening. “You don’t think it’s weird? That we missed so much time together when you were younger?”

“Not weird. Just… life,” she shrugged. “I never felt unloved. Not once. And I always had Nonna and Nonno. They taught me how to cook and yell at the TV during football.”

“I owe them everything,” he whispered.

“We all do,” Yn replied.

There was a beat of silence between them before Lewis spoke again.

“Do you ever wish we’d done it differently? Your mom and me, I mean?”

Yn tilted her head thoughtfully. “Maybe. But then I wouldn’t be me, would I? I wouldn’t have grown up between London and Florence. I wouldn’t have learned to be strong, or independent. I wouldn’t have learned to miss people and still love them just the same.”

Lewis stared at her for a long moment, then pulled her into a hug. “You’re too wise for your age.”

“I read a lot of Italian poetry,” she smiled into his chest.

That Sunday, after the race, Yn stood in the paddock, holding her dad’s race suit jacket while he did interviews. As usual, she corrected his phrasing gently when he slipped up.

“No, Papa, it’s soddisfatto, not soffritto. You just said you were ‘onion-fried’ with the car’s performance.”

Somewhere nearby, a fan held up a cardboard sign that read: Yn for Italian Teacher of the Year!

Maria arrived a bit later, fresh from a photoshoot in Milan, her heels clicking on the pavement. She waved at Yn, who ran into her arms, and then the two joined Lewis for a brief chat near the motorhome.

“We’re thinking of renting a place in Rome for the summer,” Maria said. “You should come.”

Lewis raised a brow. “You mean all three of us?”

“Why not?” she shrugged. “She’s growing up. We should enjoy the time we get.”

Yn beamed. “Can we? Please?”

Lewis smiled. “Only if you promise to keep teaching me Italian.”

Maria smirked. “And maybe some fashion, too. You still can’t dress without her help.”

“Rude,” he said, but laughed.

As the three of them stood there, blending the past and the present, the paddock moved around them, fast and loud. But in that moment, Yn didn’t feel like a girl caught between two worlds. She felt exactly where she was meant to be.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Authors Note: Hey loves. I hope you enjoyed reading this story. My requests are always open for you!

-💚🐍

[astrolook]

Astro Observations 11th house Edition:

Sun in the 11th house people could be surrounded by their social circles and would still feel lonely. It also says they spend a lot of time on the internet as well. They could have 150 friends on their contacts or 1500 followers on social media, this is the introvert in the extroverted setting. They are great communicators and not a follower. This placement is common for people who would adopt kids later on in their life. Sun in 11th house people could have a step-mom or step-dad in some cases. For careers, actor, actress, musician, or just any profession where it makes you feel like you are in charge would fit well.

Moon in the 11th house people would be living far away from their mother later on in life or mother could be emotionally distant too. These people seek emotional security through their social circles. Influencers, Content creators, Modeling, etc. as a career would be good for this placement.

Mercury in the 11th house is a good placement for careers in journalism, politics, tourism, non-fiction writing, news host, social media management, cyber security, comic writer, animation, etc. These people are good at drawing stuffs but sometimes it points to bad handwriting as well.

Mars in the 11th house is good for pursuing career abroad. You might even find your life partner through your social circles or could even meet them online. If they have a brother, he will support them people in their career as well. Careers related to finances, legal services, gym coach, etc. would make them excel at it. Also, this placement usually bestows them with a son/sons when they have a kid.

Venus in the 11th house is a good placement for to pursue careers such as doctor, especially as a dermatologist, cosmetologist, modeling, women-owned businesses, etc. would do well. Side note: people with OF accounts, Po** Stars has this placement too.

Jupiter in the 11th house people love to associate with people of different cultures, could be a pantheist too. Loves bungee jumping and other outdoor adventures. Would go on camping trips too. Careers related to tourism, adventure, business, media industry, etc. would work well for them.

Saturn in the 11th house is a fantastic placement to start a business on your own. This placement gives you a strong leadership skill and the ability to overcome obstacles. It also says that people who are older than you could benefit and help you move forward in your career. You could even have friends that are older than you. If afflicted, this says your friends immoral and would influence the Saturn in 11th house people do immoral things.

Curious about your birth chart and what it's really saying about you? 🌟 Slide into my DMs for a personalized astrology reading, and let's unlock the secrets of your stars. ✨ Don’t forget to check out my pinned post for pricing details! 🔮 Let’s make those cosmic connections happen! 🌙🌌

[nogutsnogloria]

i write things i go oh gross and then i decide to post anyways. this is just a little story about jack helping his wife the first time she nurses their baby.

jack abbot x reader

warning: talk of birth, breast feeding, feelings

the calm after the storm is always the most beautiful.

at least that’s what jack is thinking after watching his wife bring his daughter into the world. it had been a long but uneventful labour, the two of you deciding to do most of it at home all of yesterday before finally heading to ptmc labour and delivery to get ready to meet your baby girl. from there it was still a lot of work for you and it only made jack so damn proud of you.

now he gets to reap the rewards of all of your hard work.

the mommy blogs all over that he tried to stray you away from called this golden hour. you have both been checked over, cleaned up and everyone has left you alone for skin to skin between you and your new bundle of joy.

jack can’t keep his eyes off of his girls. he already can’t believe how good of a mom you are and he says as much out loud to you.

“shes literally just laying there babe, im a mattress for her at this point” you give him a tired smile. on your chest your baby makes a gurgle and starts to stir. you look up to jack with slightly panicked eyes. he smiles at you to calm the anxiety, placing a hand on the top of your head brushing his thumb along your temple to ground you. “relax sweetheart, i think she’s rooting around for something to eat.” you nod “oh, so this is normal then” looking to jack for reassurance. he bites back his smile thinking about how cute you are - he knows that you know the answer to this but after a long couple of days and you coming down from your adrenaline high he just knows he has to comfort you “absolutely normal. the nurse said to ring the bell if she started doing that so she could help get a proper latch” jack leans to press the button when you catch his hand.

“i know you read absolutely every medical journal to do with all things baby and mother the past nine months. and i know this isn’t usually your day to day trauma medicine but you don’t think you can help me with the latch? not to be selfish here but i’m really enjoying us being in our own bubble right now.”

jack squeezes your hand, he’s feeling like the tears he shed when your little girl first entered the world are bubbling up again, just so in love with you and so honoured that you trust him and his help with this first. his voice is a bit raw when he answers. “not selfish at all. of course i can if that is what you want” you nod at him and smile. “please?”

from there he works to help get you into a position that is comfortable to you. he’s now sitting on the bed beside you with one arm behind you to brace himself and another helping guide your baby where she needs to be. she latches suspiciously easy so he’s following up with you. “does that feel okay for you? are you feeling any pain?” he’s looking at your face for any sign of discomfort.

“no this feels okay. definitely weird but it’s not uncomfortable.” jack relaxes at that a little, thinking he was going to get up from the bed to give you space when you beat him to that decision by leaning your head on his shoulder. jack gets a bit more comfortable beside you and kisses the top of your head and whispers various sweet nothings. “you’re perfect, thank you, i love you so much” he murmurs into your hair. he grazes a finger down his baby girl’s cheek and the three of you continue to bask in the calm after the storm, knowing that there is many more storms to come. but you will all be able to weather them together.

[angelicgirlmj]

‘that girl’ autumn goals ideas:

hi angels! i feel like as august comes to an end all i want to do is have the coziest, most aesthetic gilmore girls autumn. so here is my autumn ‘that girl’ list, a list of my goals for this season and what i am going to do to feel and look my best as well as having the cutest, most aesthetic autumn. hopefully this inspires you or helps you make your own list of goals.

make an autumn reading list + read every book.

keep a planner.

make cozy autumn playlists to set the mood!

get up by 8am every morning.

meditate + do yoga/stretching.

bake autumn themed goods.

learn how to make autumnal flavoured hot drinks (pumpkin spice etc).

eat the ‘rainbow’ - eat a balanced, healthy diet.

go on autumn walks.

have a halloween themed film night with friends or family.

perfect my autumn wardrobe + make a pinterest inspo board.

make a vision board for the season!

go thrifting or to vintage markets!

journal daily.

make room cozy, get thick blankets, candles and cute pillows.

get some fresh air every day!

find a new cute cafe.

listen to a new motivational podcast.

have a study date with friends!

go to a halloween party.

perfect your autumn workout routine.

switch to warm, comforting breakfasts.

visit a farmers market!

have a spa day!

be creative + make or write something.

visit a book shop/library.

watch autumnal episodes of my favourite tv shows.

treat yourself to new pyjamas/cozy loungewear.

go pumpkin carving!

cut down screen time.

thank you for reading angel! little bit of a shorter post as im planning a few longer ones in the coming week. i hope this has inspired you and been helpful - autumns just about to start pretty much! love, m.

[tonfairy]

After the Splash

pairing : swimmer! anton x campus journalist! reader

genre: soft smut MDNI !!, slow burn, mutual pining, teammates to lovers (reader is a swimmer too)

cw : mention of injury | wc : 3.2k

💌 : hello ! it’s been like two weeks since i uploaded my last fic—i was locked in for my comprehensive exam lol. it’s all done now though so. . . (proofread, enjoy <3 !)

While the university celebrates the athletes' victory in this year’s tournament, the student publication is also facing its own set of challenges—balancing academic demands, writing articles, designing publication materials, and doing its best to capture the story behind the success.

“The university’s swimming team has been hailed as the overall champion once again in this year's tournament. I’d like to suggest a sports feature article about the team, with a focus on their captain, Anton Lee, for our semestral newspaper. I believe it would be a strong feature,” the publication adviser proposes during the post-tournament meeting.

“It would be better if you could conduct a face-to-face interview with Anton so we can highlight the efforts of him and the team in achieving this year’s victory. I’m assigning you to this task, Ms. Y/N,” she adds.

You weren’t paying attention—you were scrolling through your phone, lost in social media—so you were caught off guard when the assignment was suddenly given to you.

“Uh… me?” you stammer, surprised.

“Yes! You’re both on the swimming team, so I assume you’ve interacted before. And I think it’s best if you write it—you’re the sports editor, after all, and you actually understand the sport,” Ms. Kim replies.

Just as you’re about to protest, Ms. Kim cuts in. “I need it by Friday,” she says firmly.

You could only nod, silently accepting the order from your publication adviser.

Fuck this article. Fuck Anton, you cursed internally.

You walked out of the journalism lab with a heavy sigh, your mind swirling with thoughts on how to even begin the assignment.

You’re an athlete-on-break, your shoulder injury having put a halt to all your training and competitions. Though your shoulder feels fine now, your doctor advised taking it easy for a while to ensure a full recovery.

Since you’re “kind of” free today, you decide to head to the university’s pool to look for Anton. But when you arrive, he’s nowhere to be found—only your coach is there.

“Coach!” you called, loud enough for him to hear.

“The other shark is here?” your coach replied with a playful grin. “How’s your shoulder?”

You smiled softly. “It’s fine. I just need a little more time to recover. I can’t wait to come back.”

He hummed thoughtfully before adding, “The team’s looking forward to your return. One of them even said he ‘misses your presence,’” he chuckled.

“Stop it, Coach! It’s not funny,” you protested, rolling your eyes.

Your coach just laughed. “I’m not even lying. Anyway, what brings you here?”

“Oh! I came looking for Anton, but he’s nowhere to be found. That’s why I was hoping you might know where he is,” you replied.

He raised an eyebrow, the teasing grin still on his face. “You missed him, too?”

“What—no!” you responded quickly, a little too defensively. “I… I just need to interview him for my sports feature article.”

“Ah! He’s probably in his dorm, he doesn’t have a training schedule today,” he responded.

 “I’ll check on him then. Thank you, Coach! It’s nice seeing you,” you said with a smile as you walked out.

As you walk through the dorm hallway, one thought won’t stop echoing in your head, you and Anton Lee got very up close and personal in the pool shower.

It wasn’t planned. Just post-training tension, slick tiles, and a moment that escalated way too fast.

You told yourself it was just a dumb, heat-of-the-moment thing. But the way he looked at you after—like he almost said something—that’s the part that stuck.

Then your injury break happened, and neither of you brought it up. Not once.

Now you’re heading to his dorm with a reporter’s notebook, pretending this is all about the article. But to be honest—it’s definitely not just that.

You are now in front of his dorm’s door still hesitating if you're doing right, but you knocked. No response. 

Knock again.

Still nothing.

You’re about to give up when the door swings open—and you freeze. 

Anton stands there, half-asleep, shirtless, hair a complete mess, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers that leave very little to the imagination. 

His eyes widened. “Shit—Y/N?” 

He quickly grabs your wrist and pulls you inside before you can react, shutting the door behind you as if he was trying to cover up a crime scene.

Your brain should be thinking, focus on the article, but instead it short-circuits—because he’s warm, still holding your wrist, and you didn’t miss the fact that he’s… not completely asleep, if his boxers are anything to go by.

 You look anywhere but there. “Well, this isn’t weird at all,” you mutter, half to yourself.

“Sorry,” he says, voice hoarse, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just woke up.”

No joke. 

You cross your arms, trying your very best not to look directly at him—or, well, down.

“I can tell,” you say, eyeing the messy sheets in the background and the fog of sleep still clinging to him. “And.. nice outfit!” 

He glances down, realizes he’s still in just his boxers, and immediately grabs the nearest towel hanging off a chair to throw over his waist. “Right. Sorry. Didn’t know I was expecting company.”

“I knocked three times,” you shoot back. 

“I was dead asleep. Post-tournament crash,” he yawns, scratching his chest like this is any normal morning.

You suddenly remember the sensation of his skin as if you were not standing in the middle of his dorm.

You clear your throat. “I’m here for the article. Sports feature. Ms. Kim’s orders.”

“Of course,” he says, nodding, however, there's a glimmer of something in his eyes that reflects more than purely sports.

It takes a while for silence to settle between you. Then, casually, he asks, “So… do all your interviews happen in boxer briefs and towel coverage?”

You shoot him a look. “Only the special ones.” 

He laughs—soft, a little nervous—but his gaze lingers. “You could’ve just texted.”

You shrug. “You could’ve just talked to me. After.” 

That stops him. After a brief moment of teasing, you find yourself standing in a dorm with a lot of unspoken memories and one particularly loud one. 

“I wanted to,” he says quietly. “I just didn’t know if you—if it meant anything to you.” 

Your heart skips a beat. That wasn't what you were expecting. You thought this would just be stupid and awkward. Not….honest.

“It did,” you say before you can stop yourself. “I just didn’t know how to deal with it.” 

With the towel still half-wrapped around his waist, Anton blinks, obviously expecting you to blush or turn away.

But, you don’t.

“I mean, I’ve seen worse,” you say with a shrug, walking past him and dropping your bag on the edge of his unmade bed like you own the place. 

He watches you, stunned and silent for a beat. “I… wasn’t expecting you to be this calm about it.” 

“Why? Because last time we were alone, I was a little more—” You pause, letting your eyes flick to his chest, then back to his face. “—distracted?”

His cheeks turned red.

Gotcha!

“I’m here for the article, remember?” you add, pulling out your notebook, your tone almost innocent. “Just doing my job.”

Anton rubs the back of his neck, still not sure if you’re teasing him or just good at pretending nothing happened. “Right. Journalism.” 

You smirk. “Unless you’d prefer I write a different kind of feature. I’m sure readers would love to hear about the team captain’s… post-training activities.” 

He flops onto the bed, face down, towel falling off somewhere in the chaos. He groans into the sheets, there is a change in his eyes when he glances up again, less anxious, and more gentle. As if he was hiding something more serious beneath the jokes. 

“You have no idea how much I missed you,” he says quietly.

You blink, taken aback—not by the words, but by his sincerity. No smirk. No teasing. Just the truth. 

Then he gets up and takes a few steps across the gap between you. He pulls you into his chest as if he's been waiting weeks to breathe properly, and before you can respond, his arms are around you—warm, firm, and familiar.

You let yourself sink into it, your forehead resting against his bare shoulder. He smells like detergent and sleep and something that still reminds you of chlorine. 

“I kept thinking about you,” he murmurs against your skin. Then his lips brush the side of your neck—soft, almost unsure. “Especially after that night. And when you disappeared on me, I.... I didn’t know if I messed things up.” 

“No—You didn’t,” you whisper. Your hands rest against his back, feeling the rise and fall of his breath. “I just… needed space. And my shoulder—”

He then steps back enough to give you a peek. His fingers move your shirt collar gently to the side while his eyes look over your shoulder as if it were still bruised. 

“Does it still hurt?” he asks, voice low.

You shake your head. “Not really. I’m okay now.” 

He just hummed in response, his thumb brushing lightly across your skin. “I didn’t just miss you in the water. I missed you.” 

Your heart thuds once, firmly. Then his lips trail from your neck down to the curve of your collarbone, soft and slow. 

His fingers tease just beneath the fabric of your shirt as he slides his gentle hand over your ribs. He gives you a soft and non-demanding kiss on your chest, as though he has learned your shape and warmth by heart.

You close your eyes, letting the softness of his touch wash over you. And then, amid the heat and quiet, you break the silence with a smirk. 

“So,” you say, voice low and teasing, “how does it feel to be captain again? Must be a lot of pressure, hmm?”

His lips pause their trail for a moment as he groans softly. “It’s… overwhelming.”

You nudge him gently, your fingers brushing his hair. “What about the team? How did they keep up during the toughest moments?”

His breath hitches slightly, but he answers, “They pushed harder than ever. I couldn’t have done it without them.” 

You chuckle, half amused by how focused he is despite the distraction. “And what was your mindset going into the final race?”

He exhales against your skin, voice rough, “Win. For the team. For everyone who believed in us.”

You press a kiss to his jaw, grinning. “Very Good.” 

His hands tighten slightly on you, and you feel the unmistakable shift beneath his towel. “Interview’s going well,” you murmur, “but maybe we need a break before the next question.” 

He lets out a breathless laugh and hums in agreement. You immediately notice a change beneath his towel as his hands grip you a bit more firmly. 

You lean in, voice low and husky. “Alright, next question—what’s your secret for staying so focused under pressure?” 

He groans softly as his lips find the curve of your neck again, teeth grazing gently as he murmurs, “You.”

Your breath catches, but you keep your tone steady, almost like a game. “Careful, Captain. You’re getting distracted.”

His hands slide beneath your shirt, fingertips tracing light, teasing patterns on your skin. “Maybe I enjoy being distracted.” 

You arch into him, feeling how his body presses closer, heat spreading through you. “Does the team know how much you miss me?”

His answer comes with a low growl as his mouth moves lower, kissing the swell of your chest while one hand cups you, soft but demanding.

You grip his hair gently, pulling his mouth to yours. “How about this,” you whisper against his lips, “I’ll keep asking questions if you promise to answer me like this.”

He lifts his head just enough to capture your gaze, eyes dark and heavy. “Sure.” 

The interview has been replaced by something much more serious and genuine as you two melt into one another, the notebook forgotten on the bed.

His lips trail deliberately toward the dip below your neck, following the slope of your collarbone with a low, hungry groan. As he pushes your shirt up just enough, his hands glide underneath, claiming every inch of your bare skin—his fingers lingering, teasing, worshipping the heat of you with maddening intent.

You press closer, your breath hitching as his mouth finds the sensitive spot just above your heart.

“Next question,” you whisper, voice thick with want, “what drives you to lead the team so fiercely?”

His breath falters, a low murmur vibrating against your skin. “You,” he confesses, his voice raw and deep. “Everything I do, I do for you.” 

A shiver runs through you, the words sending heat pooling between you. His hands tighten around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as his lips continue their trail downward, soft and demanding. 

You thread your fingers through his damp hair, tugging gently as you murmur, “And what about after the race? How do you unwind?”

He lifts his head just enough to capture your eyes, dark and smoldering, before claiming your lips in a kiss that promises everything and nothing all at once. “Right here,” he replies, voice thick, “with you.” 

The notebook sits abandoned, the interview fading into nothing more than a dance of touches and hushed words, as you both give in to the moment, wrapped in the warmth of a long-awaited reconnection. Somewhere between the soft kisses and whispered answers, clothes fall away like second thoughts—your shirt slipping over your head, his boxers discarded at the foot of the bed. 

The room is quiet except for the soft rustle of sheets and the uneven rhythm of your breathing. Anton pulls back just enough to look at you—really look at you.

His gaze roams slowly, reverently, like he’s seeing you for the first time all over again.

“God,” he breathes, brushing his fingers lightly over your waist, your ribs, the curve of your hip. “You’re so beautiful.”

You open your mouth to tease, but the look in his eyes stops you. There’s no smirk, no playful glint—just awe. Need. Something tender that makes your chest ache. 

“I missed this,” he says, voice low and hoarse. His hands trail down your sides, thumbs brushing the inside of your thighs. “I missed you. Your skin. The way you sound when I touch you. The way you fall apart in my arms.”

Your breath hitches as he leans in again, lips dragging down your neck, over your chest, his mouth hot and gentle against you. 

“I thought about this,” he murmurs against your skin, “about you—more times than I should admit.”

His hands caress every inch of you, like he’s relearning, like he doesn’t want to forget again.

You arch beneath his touch, your body responding before you can even form words. You whisper his name, and it pulls a groan from deep in his chest.

He presses his forehead to yours, breath ragged. “I don’t want this to be just once,” he says, voice rough. “Tell me you missed this, too. Tell me you missed me.”

Your answer comes in a gasp, a kiss, a touch—and the way you pull him back to you, wordlessly saying yes, yes, yes.

His body hovers over yours, warm and solid, muscles tense beneath your hands. You watch the way his chest rises and falls, the hunger in his gaze barely contained.

You lean up, your lips brushing his ear, your voice soft but wicked. “You’re easy to distract, Captain.”

He groans at the sound, eyes fluttering shut for a second.

“You’re evil,” he mutters, pressing his forehead to yours.

You smile, trailing your fingers slowly down his stomach, just enough to make him twitch beneath your touch. “Maybe. Or maybe you just missed me a little too much.”

He shudders as you wrap your legs around him, pulling him closer, the heat between you sparking into something fierce.

“You’re not the only one who replayed that night,” you whisper, teasing his lower lip with your teeth. “Except this time, I want to remember every second.”

He kisses you hard, then—like he can’t help it, like your words unlocked something feral in him. And when your hips roll up to meet his, you feel just how much he missed you.

“Say it,” he growls against your throat, “say you want me.” 

You smirk, breathless, your voice a low challenge. "Want you? I've longed for you every day."

That’s all he needs.

He sinks into you with a groan, and your teasing melts into a gasp. You cling to him, nails raking lightly down his back as he begins to move—slow, deliberate, claiming every inch of you like a man making up for lost time. 

“You feel so good,” he whispers, jaw clenched as he holds back the way you undo him. “You always did.”

You meet each thrust with your own, your lips brushing his ear as you murmur, “You gonna last, Captain? Or am I too much for you again?” 

His answering laugh is ragged and breathless. “Keep talking like that, and we’ll find out.” 

After the final wave crests and your breathing evens out, the room falls into a hush. The air is warm, heavy with all the things neither of you has said but both clearly feel. Anton doesn’t move at first. He stays close, pressed against you, his forehead resting on your shoulder, arms wrapped tightly around your waist like he’s scared you might vanish again.

You gently run your fingers through his hair, slow and soothing. His heartbeat pounds against your chest.

“…Still think this was just an interview?” you murmur with a soft, breathless smile.

He lets out a quiet laugh against your skin. “If it was, I definitely blew it. Got totally destroyed by the sports editor.”

You laugh, too, but neither of you pulls away. You’re caught in a quiet moment—real, vulnerable, safe. After a pause, he lifts his head and looks at you. This time, there’s no joke in his eyes—just awe.

“I didn’t think I’d get to touch you like this again,” he murmurs, his fingers drawing slow, absent shapes along your hip. “I wasn’t sure I was even allowed to want it this much.”

Your heart stirs, gentler now. “I never meant to disappear,” you say, your eyes locked on his. “After that night... I wasn’t sure what it meant. And with the injury, everything just felt overwhelming.”

He gives a slow nod, then presses a soft kiss to your shoulder—tender, almost hesitant. “I understand. But I still missed you. Not just your body,” he adds, a faint grin tugging at his lips, “though yeah, I missed that too.”

You roll your eyes and give him a teasing nudge. “Pervert.”

He catches your hand and brushes a kiss over your knuckles. “Only yours.”

Silence settles, but it feels right—weighted, warm. Then, quietly, you ask, “So… what now?”

He shifts, slipping an arm beneath your back to pull you closer. “Now?” His gaze locks on yours, steady and sure, like it was in the water. "I'm not going to let you disappear on me again. If you need time, I’ll respect that—but I’m done acting like you don’t matter to me."

You lean into him, his breath brushing your cheek. “Good,” you whisper. “Because I think I care too.”

He smiles into your hair and holds you like you’re the finish line he’s been chasing all along.

You grin softly and whisper, “Guess you’re mine now.”

He chuckles, brushing his nose against yours. “And you’re mine.”

-end-

tysm guys for reading !! 🫂 i'd love to know what u think 🩷

[foxxypaws]

Agere journal prompts ⭐

(contains links to more prompts / ideas at the end ^^) (divider credits)

First of all... what's an agere journal?

Great question! it's a few things really (or whatever you want it to be)

It can be a journal you can use when you regress, just so you can draw and do fun activities! mostly for artistic littles who like to make and draw :3 Or it can be a journal full of information on regression, specify your regression. listing stuff like what you do when little, your favoruite things, your boundaries. these are usually made for littles to give to their caregivers. or it can be both!

prompts!

🖍 an introduction / all about me page 🖍 Pictures (drawn or not) of your favourite plushies and friends ^ 🖍 Character profiles for stuffies 🖍 finger painting 🖍 plan out events like picnics and playdates 🖍 Design and draw your dream little room 🖍 gear wishlist 🖍 print out some task sheets (and/or design your own) 🖍 Headcanons of your fictional littles/caregivers 🖍 positive message 🖍 doodles 🖍 list your favourite activities! 🖍 a collage 🖍 What makes you feel the happiest / safest 🖍 Your favourite movies and TV shows 🖍 Big you vs. little you (chart, drawing, list, etc) 🖍 Draw yourself as an animal! 🖍 signs that you are regressed 🖍 Write down any chores for the day as a to-do list or sticker check-off list 🖍 Design a small outfit 🖍 Make a playlist for when little 🖍 A pretend menu for when playing restaurants ^ 🖍 Anything you might need for pretend play (doctor notes, grocery list, tressure maps) 🖍 regression triggers 🖍 draw yourself as a superhero! 🖍 plan your ideal trip 🖍 Family photos of you and your plushies 🖍 make a page dedicated to a colour (any colour) and describe how it makes you feel (for example i like yellow because it reminds me of sunflowers) (another (and better) example) 🖍 A page dedicated to your favourite characters 🖍 share a funny memory that makes you laugh 🖍 make a word search when big (or even get your caregiver/friend to do it!), and then when you find it when little you can do it!

links!

fun scenarios (this post also contains links!), things to doodle, designing your dream regression room, pokemon related prompts, 50 things to put into your agere journal, 75 agere journal prompts.