#⠀ ── diary entry ✶

[trashcigs]

ceo!jay ・ 인하이펜 gn reader + wc 0.9k genre est relationship fluff, not proof-read, tell me if I'm missing anything!! — more

ceo!jay is the kind of boyfriend who waits outside the department store like he owns the building, sitting just outside the entrance of the department store with one leg crossed over the other.

your iced drink rests coolly between his fingers, condensation dripping down the side — untouched, because he’s saving it for you. his other arm watches over your growing collection of shopping bags, each one handled with care, like they are precious cargo symbols because they're yours. 

his phone buzzes again, another call demanding his attention. He's been dodging them all day, shifting meetings, rescheduling with the tap of his thumb, and even when he silences it, puts it on do not disturb, somehow the calls still make it through.

a call from a sponsor's ceo flashes across the screen. something urgent. a string of curses leave his lips, the sound barely audible over the music playing in the malls, steps slowing behind you. 

you glance over your shoulder to look at him, and jay, with a slight pout tugging at his bottom lip, holds up his phone so you can see it — screen glowing bright in the sunlight. 

“I'll think I have to take this one, love,” he says gently, though the sound of regret is evident in his voice. his fingers already dancing quickly across the screen — maybe to reschedule. Or to say something else matters more right now. Maybe both. 

Jay answers the call but doesn't drift far. He stays behind you, phone pressed to his ear, bags still weighing down his arm. His gaze never strays away from you.

Even mid conversation, talking about a transaction, he finds himself leaning forward to press a soft, chaste kiss to your temple, his lips soft and warm against your own ski,n or rest his chin on your head while you wait in line, as if tethering himself to you keeps the stress at bay.

The low hum of his voice vibrates through you, when he opts to rest his head on your shoulder, business terms like mergers and deadlines spilling from his lips, lips meeting your soft skin when he takes pauses. 

When you stop in front of another store, he crutches a slight glance over your shoulder. He's already reaching — collecting the things in your hands, balancing them with the ones already on his arm, before motioning toward the entrance with a slight tilt of his head.

“Go on,” he murmurs against the receiver, the corner of his mouth lifting just for you. “I’ve got these.”

Nobody seems to miss the way his eyes flutter shut at the soft kiss you give him before hurriedly entering the store. 

He settles on the sleek bench just outside the door, wrist watch catching a glint of sunlight as he checks the time. The call ends not long after, and with a sigh through his nose, he turns off the phone and runs a hand through hair, ruffling it slightly — a sign only you would catch that he’s tired. But he waits. 

Soon enough, he finds himself typing out an email with his brows furrowed, thumb gliding over the screen in an almost incredible speed — addressing yet another underperforming employee, though expression unreadable behind his designer glasses. Every so often he’d tear his eyes away from the screen in hopes of meeting your gaze. He doesn't.

So he returns to texting his secretary. People pass and glance — some recognizing him (That’s Mr. Park? No?), others just intimidate.

The fresh jacket, polished shoes, the cartier shining on his wrist — he’s someone important. But all that matters to him now is when you’ll come back. He glances up again. Not you. His chest deflates just a little. 

But then, the doors slide open, and you step out, sunlight haloing behind you like you walked straight out of one of his daydreams. His sunglasses are off in an instant, pushed onto his head, eyes crinkling with relief and affection. “There you are,” he says, a huge grin tugging at his lips “How was it?” 

You barely get a word in before he’s already taking the new bags from your hands, placing them gently with the rest. His touch lingers as he grabs your wrist and pulls you gently between his legs, fingers gently caressing the top of your knuckles. He tilts his head, attempting to catch your gaze, but when he realises it’s to no avail, he loops your arms around your waist, resting his head against your stomach, his lashes fluttering shut.

“You didn’t touch your drink,” brushing a few strands of hair away from his face, thumb gently wiping a faint smudge of something or – or maybe just the soft trail of a shadow – from his cheek.

“Cause it's yours,” he replies without opening his eyes. “Didn’t want to steal a sip.” 

Who knew the big business man would be such a loverboy? You card our fingers through his hair, letting your nails lightly scrape his scalp – and he exhales, a quiet, barely there sound that makes your heart flutter. A single lash, you think, clings to his skin and without thinking you wipe it away carefully, watching his lips curve ever so lightly. Jay hums, smoothing up your sides and pulls back just enough to grab your hand and place a gentle kiss to the inner side of your wrist.

“Should’ve bought you flowers too,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your wrist. “Next time, remind me to spoil you properly.” 

And you let out a short, soft laugh, one that sends your head back, and teeth peeking out from your lips. It was the kind of sound he’d bottle up if he could. His eyes shine beneath the glass roof and for a moment, he wishes this – just this — could last forever. But for now he’ll make do. 

notebook this is really... really bad

taglist open ⁉️ @miyadollie (sorry my love, i did not reach your expectations)

[scapegods]

I just know his diary is insane

[thedeluxedoll]

[fillianore]

kill them with kindness? wrong, eldritch blast

[tear-stained-lenses]

*No reply*

Oh so you want me to kill myself?

[the-most-sublime-fool]

Then, too, at sea—to use a homely but expressive phrase—you miss a man so much. A dozen men are shut up together in a little bark, upon the wide, wide sea, and for months and months see no forms and hear no voices but their own, and one is taken suddenly from among them, and they miss him at every turn. It is like losing a limb. There are no new faces or new scenes to fill up the gap. There is always an empty berth in the forecastle, and one man wanting when the small night watch is mustered. There is one less to take up the wheel, and one less to lay out with you upon the yard. You miss his form, and the sound of his voice, for habit had made them almost necessary to you, and each of your senses feels the loss.

—a sailor's diary entry, on losing a shipmate, ca. 1834 (from Two Years Before the Mast by Richard Henry Dana Jr.)

[katcantstopthinking]

is it a red flag to say she's so me?

[janinetan]

all’s well that ends well

[littlemissbih]

sorry for my feminist rants lately.

In my city, there is now an AI-powered brothel with realistic dolls for personal gratification. The idea behind it is to protect real women and offer an alternative option…

I feel like throwing up.

The most common requests there are sex dolls wearing torn clothing or covered in blood, and it’s even allowed to inflict wounds and injuries on the dolls yourself.

Anyone who thinks this protects real women has not understood the problem.

It disgusts me so much.

[trashcigs]

when he forgets to pick you up ・ 보이넥스트도어 gn reader + word count 2.3k genre est relationship angst comfort cw not proof-read, mentions of the pet name 'baby' — more 💻

networks @onedoornet

JAEHYUN 명재현

He'll tell you it happened by accident, his phone was left on do not disturb the moment he got to work. he'll tell you that he was so focused on the upcoming comeback, so focused on producing this new song, so focused on learning this new choreo, so focused—so distracted—that it had simply slipped his mind to pick you up, to check the weather, to remember you were waiting. 

Jaehyun thinks he’ll never get rid of the image of you—wet, shivering, quiet—when he finally caught up to the staircase. your eyes bore into his. ‘You forgot.’

"jaehyun you—" a shaky breath. you don't finish. he'd rather you yell at him. tell him how awful a boyfriend he's been. scream. throw something at him maybe. 

instead, you stay silent. your eyes never leave him. he has to tear his own eyes away from you — there's too much emotion in yours, too much that makes him want to cry. he was a terrible boyfriend. his lips part in hope to say something, but what could he say — so he says nothing. eyes filled with unshed tears staring at the way his shoes crease against the roughness of the staircase. “i’m sorry,” he finally says, barely above a whisper. “I didn’t mean to — I didn’t want. I’m just so so…” 

a shaky breath betrays him, a desperate soft plea don't go. he hears his heartbeat echoing in his ears, the wind whistling, and the staggered pitter pattering of the rain. 

you purse your bottom lip, clenching and unclenching your fists. a part of you wants to forgive him — the way jaehyun quickly tears his gaze away whenever your eyes meet, the way his lips quiver everytime they part… — the other is still mad, you had to wait, you had to call, and you called and he left you waiting. 

a sigh leaves your lips as you adjust your bag on your shoulder, stepping down the staircase until you reach his level. he watches you carefully, scared that if he moves, he says something if he does something, you might actually go away. 

arms snake around his waist, your face flush against his chest. “it's okay hyun,” you murmur, fingers tracing soft circles against his back. “just don't forget me okay.” He nods furiously, “never, ill never. I'm sorry, I'm sorry  I'm so sorry —” he rests his head onto your shoulder, you whisper, “ I know, baby. I know baby” 

SUNGHO 박성호

the bus ride home is silent, too silent. sungho had said he was busy — he was always too busy. he’s aware that no amount of sorry’s would make it up to you. eyes snapping away from your own whenever he finds your gaze lingering too long. 

underneath them the bus rumbles, constantly swaying the two of you back and forth between the plethora of people standing, waiting to get to their next stop. 

he wants to hold your hand and, tell you that he’s sorry — but he knows that it won’t work, not this time. he promised that he’d pick you up from work, to pick you up early to hang out together (the first time in a while) 

but 15 minutes past eleven and he’s still not here. so you wait for the bus and then you see him, running down the street to meet you. the smoky sputter of the bus moves your attention back to it and you step inside, and sungho feels his heart break into two. 

he’s sorry he says, when he boards the bus and stands behind you. hands just inches away from your own. “stop making excuses, i’m tired.” and he listens 

sungho stands silently, his own tall figure covering your own, the bus continues to fill up, despite being a bit after midnight. the lights outside flicker past one by one, and the silence between you two makes him uncomfortable. 

it’s too quiet for his liking. he feels so guilty, but he knows that no amount of sorry’s tumbling from his lips would make you turn to face him and tell him what you want to say – what you truly want to say. 

your gaze stays on the window in front of you, you refuse to look at him. this time you won’t be swayed but soon tufts of hair tickle your shoulder and you find him resting his forehead against it. 

he holds his hand out for you — waiting mindlessly for your warmth. the corners of your lips turn into a soft smile. and you hold it, his knuckles softly caressing and softening the fold. his other hand finds itself on the grab handle, your hands are tightly wrapped around. 

A gentle kiss on your shoulder blade tells you all that he’s been saying. I'm sorry. the gentle lean of your head on his tells him your answer.

RIWOO 이상혁

the wind is howling, the rain is pouring, your feet hurt and you just want to go home. sanghyeok had already texted that he was on his way, that things got held up all of which were beyond his control. but youre tired and confused and oh so cold and he’s not here. 

footsteps hitting the pavement in a sound all too familiar grabs your attention away from the phone that illuminates your face in the evening. 

the look that you give him is so tired, no bright smile evident on your face no emotion but the slow blink you give him when he approaches you. there’s nothing much to say, not much he can say. and you know what happened was beyond his control, the fact that his elders held him up or he was forced to work a late hour but you had wished he was here and not there

he looked like he ran — sanghyeok's chest heaves a bit, droplets of water dripping down his face as he walks underneath the shelter despite having a folded umbrella in his hand. 

you turn your attention back to your phone, playing with the edge of its case — it's old and has lost its colour, but the charm sanghyeok had given you before you started dating stays stuck to it. 

you turn back to your phone, thumb tracing the edge of its faded case. the charm sanghyeok gave you — the one from before you even started dating — still clings to it.

sanghyeok sits beside you in silence, waiting for something — really anything, he doesn’t mind sitting in silence. just wants to know if everything is right with you. 

his heart beats in his chest as he watches you pick up your workbag from the stairs of the building and pull it over your shoulder, and then rest your self against him. he lets out a soft sigh and smiles, before resting his own head against yours. “i’m sorry,” he says, a hand out to hold your own. “They wouldn’t let me go and I tried, I promise you I tried but I couldn’t.”

you put your other hand on top of his, before bringing it up to your lips and placing a chaste kiss between the depths of his flushed knuckles. “it’s okay,” you lift your head up to look at him. 

he can no longer hide the tears threatening to fall, blurring his vision completelty. maybe he’d lie and say it was the rain. “i love you,” you give a soft kiss to his forehead. his bottom lip juts out forward before he brings your head closer to his lips, a warm kiss to your ftop of your head.

TAESAN 한동민

dongmin's first instinct is to call you, having spent most of the day in his room — trying to craft up songs for their new album, the numerous frantic calls and notifications on his phone go completely unnoticed. it’s when he tilts his phone, for a brief moment, to check the time he sees your calls — his heart sinks. 

he immediately, calls — it rings a couple of times before you finally decide to pick it up, series of ‘im coming,’ are muttered through the phone on dongmin's end. phone pressed to his ears while he runs out into the sidewalk, trying to fix up his jacket. ‘I’m coming baby i’m sorry’.

you could hear his panting through the phone, his footsteps against the pavement — the poor boy stumbling a couple times and attempting to regain his footing before bumping into a crowd of officeworkers. (he’s determined — he thinks, to hear your voice, to know that you’re atleast okay while he finds his way to meet you). 

you’re already walking by the time he reaches up to you, umbrella propped open in his hand that does no good as he stumbles in front of the staircase. the glare you give him is anything but warm. dongmin's hands are shoved into his pocket pulling out heat warmers for your hands. you don’t move, so he takes your hand and wraps your fingers around it. you swallow. 

puddles fill the cracks in the sidewalk as the light summer drizzle turns heavier, you hold the umbrella dongmin brought with him while he walks beside you, hands shoved in his pocket, heat warmers shoved in yours. the silence irks you, so you say something — really anything, more directed at him more angry at him, more angry at yourself for letting this happen again. 

and soon the words ‘ you don’t care,’ stumble from your lips and he stops in his tracks, pulling your arm and swings you to face him. “ i do care.” 

it’s firm and strong, the distant sound of cars driving past you, but you hear him. “i do care,” he says quieter this time, eyes never tearing away from your own. “I care,” he chokes on his own words, eyes scanning your face for some sort of expression, maybe for remorse or for forgiveness. “i’m sorry.” 

and he really, really means it. dongmin's arms snake around your waist and pull you flush against him, i’m sorry.

LEEHAN 김동현

the sound of the car door clicks open and you meet the eyes of an embarrassed donghyun leaning forward from the drivers seat. he gives you a sheepish smile, dimples peeking from his cheeks.

but the water thats seeping through your clothes, and the way everything is clinging onto you makes you want to burst. so you stare at him, brows furrowing with an expression thats all too knowing. 

he swallows his excuse, a soft sorry leaving his lips as he grabs a cloth from the glove compartment and puts it on the passenger seat. you throw your bag in first, before wringing out the excess water from your clothes — your eyes leave him, you can't bear looking at this man any longer. 

donghyun turns up the heater, watching as you finally enter and settle into your seat, the door slamming closed before you adjust yourself. 

his lips part — he wants to say something, fingers tapping against the steering wheel in a way to fill the silence. The windshield wipers make a sound that scratches your brain in all the wrong ways. his hand makes his way to the back of your headrest, his eyes glittering against the lamp post, you avoid his gaze. because you know if you look at him, if you meet his eyes, you’ll falter — you’ll smile and say it was okay but it wasn’t. 

donghyun notices but stays silent and turns his attention back to the steering weel, starting the car up again. the ride home is noisy — the soft rumbling of the car, the rain hitting against the windows, the heater doing most of the talking. you barely hear it, the “i’m sorry,” he says. a little over a whisper, less than a yell – filled with worry and regret and so much guilt. 

“i’m so so so sorry,” he continues and then explains — something about work and dancing you nod eyes fixed between your nail and the road, anything but him. 

you refuse to spare him much of a glance but then the car pulls up to a red light and he turns his entire body to face you. 

“im so sorry my love.” there's a soft pause. “I know,” it leaves your lips quietly. donghyun tilts his head to catch your gaze, your eyes dart everywhere, looking at everything but him. “mmm?” he hums softly and his hands slip over to your side and he aches for your touch. 

you can feel the cry coming before the tears, the bubbling in your chest — the possibly sickness making you feel all too woozy. his hands stay like that for awhile, a bit empty a bit lonely but your hands instinctively reach for his own, before he clasps it and pulls you into a kiss. 

it’s short and sweet, a promised passed between lips — i won’t forget, i’m sorry. 

a car honks from behind and he giggles, stealing another kiss for road safety before hitting the pedal, his right hand never leaving your own.

WOONHAK 김운학

he runs. that’s all he simply does, the moment his friend reminds him that he was supposed to meet up with you, the nogs turn in his head and he sprints. 

barely grabs his jacket as he jumps down flights of stairs down to the apartment entrance. woonhak can’t believe he forgot, strings of curses leave him in a single breath the wind howling in his ears. 

almost impulsively he passes by the bakery that you’ve been craving to eat from, running inside, nearly bumping into an old man who gives him the scolding of his life. woonhak lets the older man speak, ranting about how the young kids don’t know how to do anything and maybe he was right — but he ignored him for the most part, eyes scanning the menu and trying to figure out what treat would be the best for you. one that wouldn’t coax you into forgiving him but enough that shows that he cares and that he truly really is sorry. 

woonhak leaves as quickly as he came. he does his best not to ruin the designs of the treat, trying to keep it intact as much as possible, but one hand is holding his phone and desperately trying to get you to pick up while he speeds up to your meeting place. 

and he sees you, eyes pinned to the floor playign with the gravel underneath your shoe, the guilty pit in his stomach making it harder to ignore. you finally look up when you hear someone approaching you, and you make eye contact. 

there’s a pause between the two of you. “you forgot.” you finally say. “i forgot,” the corners of his lips pull down, softly blinking back the tears in his eyes. i’m sorry gets stuck in his throat, the sweat rolling down his face, and the dampness of his clothes already tell you enough. woonhak waits, breath shaky, and sighs deeply. 

you shift a bit, patting the empty space beside you. he smiles through the blurry vision, setting the bag down to give you a hug. “i’m sorry,”

notebook i'm free ?? clearing out my drafts! sorry for all of the grammatical errors and typos... pls reblog & leave feedback!!

taglist open ⁉️ @leehanist @in2fly @hyeosi @ivenlz @geministan @hrts4hanniehae @jus2passtime @hafimns @faera24 @kristianities

[scriptastra]

I did not bow. I did not flee—and for that, the stars gave you to me.

[angelaness]

020525

Cycle Syncing 101: How to Stop Fighting Your Body and Start Flowing (🌚) With It

alright girls, gather ‘round. this is the full post i promised - the one about periods, moods, energy, and how to actually live in sync with your cycle instead of feeling like a chaotic mess every month. because once i started tracking and understanding my cycle… it changed everything. for real. my workouts, my eating, my planning, my self-talk all became softer, smarter, more strategic. so let's break it down.

your menstrual cycle has 4 main phases, and each one brings its own vibe, mood, superpowers, and kryptonite. when you know which phase you’re in, you stop blaming yourself and start working with your body, not against it. ready?

1. Menstrual Phase (Bleeding / Days 1–5ish)

Vibe: hibernation queen. inward. reflective.

Body: hormones (estrogen + progesterone) are at their lowest = low energy, fatigue, cramps, sensitivities.

Mind: introspective, quiet, intuitive. this is your “truth-telling” time.

What to do:

Exercise: restorative yoga, stretching, slow walks. if you need to skip your workout? skip it. your body is doing enough.

Food: iron-rich foods (spinach, lentils, beef, dark chocolate), warm meals like soups and stews. magnesium-rich snacks can help with cramps.

Routines: go slow. journal. say no to extra plans. light candles. wear comfy clothes. treat yourself like you're sacred.

Study/work: focus on review, reflecting on past tasks, journaling ideas. let your brain rest a bit—don’t force deep concentration.

Self-care: warm baths, heat pads, soft music, no loud people.

Mental tip: you’re bleeding out the past month. literally. let go of what didn’t serve you. Zdont feel guilty.

2. Follicular Phase (Post-period / Days 6–13ish)

Vibe: fresh start. springtime energy. main character in a coming-of-age film.

Body: estrogen rises. energy builds. skin glows. you feel light, optimistic, social.

Mind: creative, motivated, open to new ideas.

What to do:

Exercise: try something new—dance, pilates, running, gym sessions. you’ll feel strong and energetic.

Food: fresh and light—greens, fermented foods, seeds, citrus. boost that metabolism.

Routines: this is your reset phase. declutter. plan your week/month. start new habits. your brain wants structure right now.

Study/work: brainstorm, start new projects, prep for heavy tasks ahead. your memory and focus are sharper.

Self-care: vision boards, hair masks, cute outfits. say yes to life.

Mental tip: this is your most productive phase. take advantage but don’t overbook. pace yourself.

3. Ovulation Phase (Middle of Cycle / Days 14–16ish)

Vibe: glowing goddess. seductive. unstoppable.

Body: estrogen peaks, testosterone joins the party. libido spikes. you’re magnetic and bold.

Mind: communicative, charming, high-confidence. great time to network or confront someone (with love, of course).

What to do:

Exercise: go hard—HIIT, lifting, cardio, group workouts. you’ve got power and endurance.

Food: fiber-rich foods (quinoa, carrots, berries) and antioxidants. hydrate well.

Routines: do your “hard” things here—presentations, big meetings, social stuff, shooting your shot.

Study/work: speak, pitch, debate. you’ve got clarity + persuasion.

Self-care: romanticize yourself. take hot pics, go out, flirt with life.

Mental tip: your confidence is real. don’t downplay it. enjoy this phase but stay grounded.

4. Luteal Phase (Pre-period / Days 17–28ish)

Vibe: cozy but moody. nesting energy.

Body: progesterone rises after ovulation. if no pregnancy happens, hormones start to drop = PMS hits.

Mind: detail-focused, critical, sensitive. easily overstimulated.

What to do:

Exercise: lower the intensity. pilates, strength training, long walks. listen to your body.

Food: complex carbs (sweet potatoes, oats), calming teas, B6-rich foods (bananas, salmon). eat more often to manage cravings + blood sugar dips.

Routines: finish tasks. organize. clean your space. prep for your period like you’d prep for a storm—lovingly.

Study/work: editing, detail work, wrapping up loose ends. less is more.

Self-care: limit caffeine, go offline if needed, soothe your senses.

Mental tip: don’t trust every thought. the inner critic is loud but not always right. softness wins here.

General Tips:

Track your cycle: use apps like Clue, Flo, or just a paper calendar. know when each phase starts so you can plan smarter.

Plan around your phases: big goals in follicular/ovulation, rest + review in menstrual/luteal.

Cycle syncing ≠ perfection: life doesn’t always let you live like a hormone princess. do what you can. forgive what you can't.

Be kind to yourself: if your body is low-energy, that’s not laziness—it’s biology. honor it.

Final Thoughts:

nobody told us this. nobody said “hey, your whole system is a monthly pattern, learn the rhythm and life gets easier.” instead, we got shame, pain, and whispers. but no more. now we know better. and syncing your life to your cycle is not about being soft—it’s about being smart. strategic. in tune.

girlhood isn’t chaos, insanity, it’s coded. and when you read the code, you stop feeling like a mess and start feeling like magic.

if you made it this far, you’re already syncing, baby.

go be soft when you need, strong when it calls, and sacred always💕

[noirelys]

02/20/2025 — thursday

morning lecture : constitutional law

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

I think about the best diary entry ever.

[tear-stained-lenses]

“I love you.”

No you don't.