#Angular 7

[sigalrm]

Dad of the backpack by Pascal Volk

[northopalshore]

Rising signs in the Groom Persona Chart: Their features

───────────────── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ─────────────────

The rising sign in your GPC tells you about your future spouse's appearance, physical attributes and how they present themselves. Picture it like reading their birth chart lol.

୨୧ Please do not repost without consent ʕ⁠´⁠•⁠ᴥ⁠•⁠`⁠ʔฅ����

In the signs & degrees:

♰ Aries (1°, 13°, 25°):

Your future spouse could have very angular features, perhaps their eyes could be sharp or very striking. They could have an eager look to them, or they could look like a kid in a way. You could think that they're impatient or they may like to rush things a lot. They could have a great physique or look very hot. They could wear a lot of gym clothes, tight fitting outfits or just athletic wear in general. Either a dork (Maximilian Goof aka Goofy's son lol) or a gym rat.

♰ Taurus (2°, 14°, 26°):

They will dress very comfortably, while still looking extravagant. They could look sophisticated and very, very attractive i.e perfect smile, perfect teeth. They could be taller or heavier than you. They will be very calm, down to earth and put together. They could have a well built physique, and tough body.

♰ Gemini (3°, 15°, 27°):

They could have a slender face, pale skin and a narrow stature. They will look very expressive when they start talking, but have a rather dull resting face lol. They could look rather breezy if that makes sense. Not one to wear anything too fitted. They could have great facial symmetry. Something about their teeth will be very prominent i.e straight or very white.

♰ Cancer (4°, 16°, 28°):

They could have very soft, rounded features. Doe eyes. They could have a slight glow to their face and their eyes. Curvy body, soft lips. They could wear a lot of baggy or vintage looking clothes. They could gain weight quite easily. They will look kind and mellow. They could have a very inviting smile.

♰ Leo (5°, 17°, 29°):

Gorgeous hair, and that face card doesn't decline. They will love dressing in old Hollywood vintage clothing, old money or loud and expensive. They could have very wavy or curly hair that will catch anyone's attention. They also have a slight cocky look to them. They are attractive, and god do they know it.

♰ Virgo (6°, 18°):

They are usually very petite/short and frail looking. They could look compacted but not aggressively so. They will look very clean and polished. There will not be a single speck of dust on them nor will you spot an unironed spot on their clothing. They will love wearing comfortable yet elegant looking clothes. You'll notice they tend to lean on a specific silhouette or colour that they like.

♰ Libra (7°, 19°):

" They have the face of an angel and the body of a greek god" Beautiful. Elegant and gentle. Looking at them will leave you at a daze. They look good and know exactly how to dress for their body. All of their facial features blend in harmoniously, could have a symmetrical face too. Oval faces, bright eyes, pretty smile.

♰ Scorpio (8°, 20):

Usually, they will have very striking eyes. They could have eye bags or just darkened eyes in general. Like virgo, they could love to stare at you lol. Every feature they have will accentuate their eyes. They are very attractive ( s*xually) , everything about them will be sensual and seductive.

♰ Sagittarius (9°, 21°):

There could be a significant size difference between you. They could have very long legs, curly or fluffy hair, and animated facial features. They will look very charming, but goofy in a way. One look at them and you know they're somebody fun to be around. They could laugh a lot and look stoic (contemplating) at times.

♰ Capricorn (10°, 22°):

They could look very cold or uninviting. He could have a very relaxed yet also somewhat stern look on their face even with neutral emotions. They could look very mature, their eyebrows could often be furrowed lol. They could have very prominent bone structures i.e nose, hollow or defined cheek bones. They could look very "boney" in general lol. Very masculine.

♰ Aquarius (11°, 23°):

They could be very tall or slender. Their heads and arms could be quite prominent something about them will catch a lot of stray eyes. They likely have features that are rebellious in nature. They could have odd hairstyles/ colours (especially) or tattoos or piercings. They could dress very.. exotically? Strange? Their fashion style could be quite questionable to say the least but never are they boring to look at.

♰ Pisces (12°, 24°):

They will have very sad, sultry looking eyes that look almost sympathetic 24/7. They will seem like they're not really "there" with you i.e lost in thought or deep contemplation. They will have very rounded features. Their cheeks could look very puffy or rounded when they smile. You could think that they're too good to be true. Their skin could have a greyish undertone, almost like the moon is beneath their skin.

Note: If there are conflicting signs of their appearance for example you have Virgo rising (small, petite) in 2° Taurus (bigger, heavier) then it means your fs is considered large for a virgo i.e.gains weight easily, and are very well built or muscular while still not being overly built (lean).

˚₊‧꒰ა paid readings available ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

───────────────── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ──────────────────

*** entertainment only, reader discretion is advised***

Thank you for reading ♡

@northopalshore

@northopalshore groom persona chart 2024 all rights reserved. Disclaimer

[bunnis-monsters]

I am so unwell about the idea of a bee/wasp hybrid ???? Absolutely CLINICALLY down bad.

They’d be so soft and squishy and fluffy but so angry. . . Like a poorly trained purse dog.

Trying to do literally anything but bee/wasp hybrid bf just worming his way into your arms, grumbling and buzzing in annoyance. Can’t you see your cute boyfriend wants your attention?

God you can’t bring this man out in public. To most he looks so soft and sweet, but if anyone even looks in your direction he’s threatening to skewer them. Wasps and bees are very protective, so combining them is like throwing gasoline and fire into a tornado.

He’s so clingy, you’d think he’s been surgically attached to your hip. So soft and fluffy, but handsy and a bit rough. You never know what you’re getting with him.

One second he’s snuggling into you, little purrs and buzzes as his wings twitch in pleasure, then all of a sudden he’s biting your neck to establish dominance and shoving his cock into your fat cunt, stuffing you full of his eggs.

He looks like any other bumble bee hybrid, but he’s a bit angular like a wasp if that makes sense, with a reddish tint instead of yellow. Kind of like a person with strawberry blonde hair that leans more towards ginger!

He’s got terrible separation anxiety and instead of getting nervous he gets PISSED when he can’t be with you 24/7. Will absolutely show up and start fighting anyone that tries to keep you away longer than an hour or so.

Now imagine an ENTIRE HIVE of these bee/wasp hybrids! They’re absolutely overbearing… some combine the best aspects of their differing species, while the others bring out the worst.

But god you love them, and they adore you. They’re just angry, fuzzy little things!

[theachinghunger-if]

The Aching Hunger

Demo [9.4k Words | Last Updated 5/7/25]

You are a good, upstanding citizen. You’re a devoted best friend, get good grades in college, and life is looking up. You would go as far as to call yourself a good person. That is, until you aren’t anymore. 

When your best friend gets cheated on by her asshole boyfriend, you’re furious on her behalf. And when you see him at a party, something in you… snaps. In a fit of fury, you murder him. 

And this unleashes a bloodlust in you that no one would have ever expected, least of all yourself. Soon, a terrible, aching hunger forms in the pit of your stomach and travels up to gnaw at your heart. You want to kill – need to kill. The question is: can you get away with it, or are you destined to fall? 

The game has four romance options who go as follows:

Delilah (F) Delilah is the kindest, sweetest person you know. She would never even hurt a fly. But despite that, she helps you cover up the murder of her (ex) boyfriend with little more than a scolding look. There’s a burning in her eyes when you reveal your bloodlust before her. Could it be possible that she’s drawn to it?

Delilah is of average height with a lean, slender build. She has black skin, coiled black hair she keeps in locks, and dark brown eyes. She has a round, heart-shaped face and deep dimples.

Sebastian (M) Sebastian has always been a bright, easy-going guy. He’s always been a pleasant person to hang out with, despite his poor choice of best friend. But ever since his best friend’s death – well, ever since you happened to murder him – his joy has been muted. If he ever found out that you murdered his best friend, he would never forgive you.

(WARNING: Sebastian's route is unique in that it is meant to be dark, purposely deceptive, and potentially even downright abusive on behalf of the MC. )

Sebastian is tall with broad shoulders and a muscular build. He has sun-kissed skin and curly brown hair that reaches his shoulders. His eyes are a light shade of brown. He has a scar on his calf that winds all the way up his thigh.

Alexander/Alexandra (M/F)

A is the detective who’s been put on your case. They’re charming, with a silver tongue and a mind as sharp as a finely-honed blade. They’ll stop at nothing to discover who the serial killer haunting the streets of their city is. Too bad that that person happens to be you.

A is tall with a wiry frame. They have pale skin and light blue eyes. Their hair is a pale, platinum blond. Their features are angular and sharp, making them look almost shrewish. A scar slashes across their left cheek.

Hugo/Helga (M/F) H is your classmate who you’ve been assigned on a group project with. They’re a twitchy, nervous thing, often acting as if they’re afraid of the entire world at large. As your killing spree commences, however, they develop a fascination with your serial killing persona. Maybe they’re not as much of a delicate little lamb as you thought they were. 

H has a short, wiry frame. They have pale skin and light blue eyes, along with fiery red hair. Their features are angular and sharp, making them look almost shrewish. They have a smattering of freckles across their body.

Choose your MC's gender

Customize your MC's appearance and personality

Choose between four different romance options

Get away with murder or don't

Feed that hunger inside of you, or try to reject it

All updates will be posted on this blog. I'm totally cool with asks about the MC, ROs, and so on. I’m a-okay with nsfw asks too. Thank you for checking out the blog!

[sabertoothwalrus]

your character designs are incredible! do you keep anything/any thought processes in mind as you draw fanart vs how you draw ocs?

OOOOOO what a fun question...

I'd say my general thought process about how to build a new character-- figuring out who they are and what they do and what they're like-- is all pretty much the same across the board. The main difference between designing fan characters vs original characters is how I answer those sorts of questions.

For original characters, it can be almost overwhelming because I get to choose everything. I can make everything perfectly suited to my own tastes, except I have a broad range of things I like, and my tastes change constantly FJHFHD so depending on the project, choosing a more specific direction helps narrow things down.

Here's some old ocs I redrew recently. They're from an old story I'm not planning on revisiting, but it was about an art student, her little brother, and some grim reapers. Can you tell who is who?

I wanted the alive characters to have a lot of Opposites from the reapers. Warm vs Cool colors. Round vs Angular shapes. I wanted the reapers to look skeletal and sickly looking, and it was important that they all had some kind of hood. They needed to wear black & grey, but their colors still needed to be interesting, so they're all tinted with a color (one is sort-of blue, one is sort-of red, one is sort-of purple).

The story is more serious, so it felt appropriate that the characters were more realistically proportioned compared to some of the cartoonier designs I tend to do. They're still heavily stylized, and I tried to push myself to go harder on the shape language and Appeal™.

For fan characters, it's actually a lot of fun because so much of the work has been done for you. The more source material you have to work with, the less you have to come up with.

So, an example I'm going to use is Hugh Dini, a character I came up with as part of a fan concept for a new entry in the Ace Attorney series.

Phoenix Wright's daughter, Trucy, is a magician. She was 17 in her last appearance, and my fan concept takes place 7 years later, so she'd be 24. I decided she'd have a boyfriend who is also her assistant, and went from there.

I knew Hugh was going to be a defendant, which according to Ace Attorney rules means that he'd be falsely accused of murder. I needed to create a guy who was sympathetic, someone that you'd WANT to help prove his innocence.

What I did was reference existing characters from the games who fit similar archetypes and took a lot of design cues from them. I also referenced characters like Fukuo from Kiki's Delivery Service, who is a delightful himbo wifeguy that looks a little intimidating but is actually just kinda shy. And then I looked at actual photos of stage magician costumes for additional inspiration. THEN I go back to the source material to compare design details I want to add (ex, Hugh's high collar, his cuffs, the collar, the cape being turned into fringe on his jacket) and see if it already exists somewhere. No point in reinventing the wheel if I don't need to!

I wanted him to be like a "sexy magician's assistant", which I thought was a funny contrast to his restrained demeanor. He needed to be flashy, but not TOO flashy that he'd upstage Trucy. And additionally, since this is a game series where the characters are mostly seen from the waist up, I tried to keep his most interesting details in the top half of his design (but honestly in hindsight, I could have given him more. like Zak Gramarye's thigh-strap belt bag, perhaps).

Some other things I like to do when creating fan designs is to "roleplay" being the designers of the source material. If concept art is available, I reference that. I like to find the design quirks the character designers favor, and use them to make my own designs more convincing. If I'm designing something for, say, a european tv show that came out in 2005, I'd refer to the fashion and design tendencies that were most prevalent in the culture then, because that's what the actual character designers would have been most inspired by. But I'm not perfect, I'm gonna have the biases of an american lesbian living in 2025 no matter how hard I try LMAO

Hopefully I was able to answer your question!

[hayatheauthor]

7 POC Architectural Inspirations for Your Fantasy World

Fed up with (most) authors sticking to the Renaissance ‘white’ castles so here’s some inspiration (and a gentle nudge to branch out because I can’t stand them anymore): 

1. Mahals (India)

Ornate domes, intricate carvings, and symmetrical layouts. Mehals take decades to be made and are intricately brought to life with beautiful detailings, take the Shish Mahal's mirror work, Jharokhas, the Pietra Dura Mughal inlays, and classic Jaali work that female characters sneek peeks through to watch the throne room from afar. 

2. Qilā (Fortresses of the Mughal Empire)

If you want something more in tune with a war-based story Qilas are a good option. They’re brought to life with massive stone walls, gateways with pointed arches, and courtyards for strategic defense. Qilas are intended for protection but many hold a rustic mix of Persian and Indian architecture which provides that aesthetic charm writers like. 

3. Shiro (Japanese Castles)

Shiros are Japanese castles with many buildings within their walls, such as the Goten (palace). I used a Shiro for my book and it is so convenient if you have a larger cast, like a court system/multiple families. If you want to know all the structures, names, what they look like, etc. just google ‘Nawabari’ (the Japanese term for a Shiro’s layout). 

4. Kasbahs (North Africa)

Kasbahs are native to Morocco and perfect if you need something minimalistic yet pretty. Their structures are very similar to that of a Qila since they both have a pragmatic, angular build. However, Kasbahs are more earthy with thick clay walls, small windows and subtle yet pretty detailing. 

5. Qasr (Middle Eastern Palaces)

Qasrs are Arab palaces that feature ancient Bedouin architecture. However, there is no ‘one size fits all’ Qasr because this word is used to describe both palaces and forts. You can have a ‘qasr’ that is a palace with sprawling courtyards, marble arches, and curvy turrets, or a ‘qasr’ that is a Bedouin fort with structured cylindrical towers. PS: castle = Qusur. 

6. Baray Temples (Cambodia)

Barays, like those at Angkor Wat, symbolise spirituality. Like many Asian temples, they are typically surrounded by water and reservoirs. The complexes feature intricate stone carvings, steep steps, and a flat triangular top (Google if you cant visualise it please). Unlike most structures on this list, they are typically made using Laterite or Earth/clay. 

7. Mudbrick Mosques (West Africa)

While South Asia uses intricate craftsmanship for their detailing, Mudbrick Mosques have smoothly carved pillars, tapering walls and flat domes that are strategic yet beautiful. The beige tones blend seamlessly into the dessert with wooden beams protruding from its walls to make it stand out. I would recommend looking at the Great Mosque of Djenné; truly a masterpiece. 

I've mainly covered types I've either seen irl or used in my writing please don't come at me if I haven't included something from your culture, you can comment it.

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks? 

Check out the rest of Quillology with Haya; a blog dedicated to writing and publishing tips for authors!

Instagram Tiktok

[astrosamara]

Solar Return Observations #1

🔆Sun in 1st house: You might feel a strong urge to express yourself more than usual this year. There's a desire for you to be seen by others. You could also just generally find yourself feeling more optimistic about life than usual. When I look back on photos I've taken of myself during these years, I feel like I notice a glow in my appearance.

🔆Chart ruler conjunct AC: Can be a year filled with a lot of personal change and the rising sign/planet can provide more insight into what that change is. For example, a year when I had Capricorn ascendant with Saturn on my ascendant, I was dealing with so many obstacles and put into situations where I was forced to mature and grow constantly and I now consider it one of the hardest years of my life. Another year when I had Libra ascendant with Venus on my ascendant, I found myself feeling really confident and attractive and embracing my style and creativity, and this was one of the happiest years of my life.

🔆Uranus conjunct IC: Can be a year where your living situation could be changing suddenly and frequently. I lived in multiple new places during a year when I had this aspect. All of these moves happened within a couple of days to a month. There's a strong emphasis on the sudden changing nature of these living situations.

🔆Neptune in 5th house: You might be really romanticizing and enjoying your hobbies this year as well as discovering new hobbies. You can really lose yourself in your creative endeavors and your imagination is vibrant.

🔆North Node conjunct AC: Can indicate a year where you really focus on self-growth. You're not as interested in comparing yourself to other people because it's really important for you to focus on building your own life and unique identity.

🔆Saturn in 6th house: Is a year when unexpected health issues can arise. Your day to day life might feel restrictive in some way as well. You can be in a job that is demanding on you mentally and physically. You may struggle keeping a consistent and pleasant daily routine.

🔆Sun in 12th house: You might feel lonelier than usual. Your energy levels can also be lower than usual. This can be a very reflective and inward time. You could also experience frequent illness.

🔆Uranus in 12th house: You can experience profound spiritual experiences during this year. You can have very vivid dreams that feel like divine messages. You might be drawn deeply to spirituality.

🔆Squares and Oppositions: If your SR chart is filled with squares and oppositions with very little or no harmonious aspects, this can be a year faced with many obstacles, but it can also be a year where you're more determined to make changes. These years tend to be very memorable in terms of a year where you really worked hard despite any obstacles or setbacks.

🔆Moon in Capricorn: I've seen so many SR charts with this placement and it's always during years that people describe as being the hardest and most emotionally challenging years of their lives. This energy is emphasized even greater if the moon falls into one of the angular houses (1st, 4th, 7th, or 10th).

🔆Sun trine Saturn: You might make very practical and achievable goals this year. You feel content with taking baby steps and you don't feel like you're in a rush to make big life changes. You see more results by slow and determined consistency.

🔆Pluto conjunct DC: You can experience powerful transformation through relationships this year. You can meet someone who becomes an important and meaningful influence on your life. Pluto in your SR chart can really highlight the area of your life that will experience a death and rebirth during that year.

🔆Sun in angular houses: These years might stand out more than other years. My past 7 solar return years have all had sun in angular houses and they've all been significant years.

🔆Sagittarius or Pisces MC or Jupiter in 10th house: You can experience a lot of financial gains and recognition in your career during these years.

🔆Saturn conjunct Venus: If you're in a relationship, this can be a year you really value commitment and might consider marriage or some other significant milestone happens. If you're single, you might be more serious about finding love and getting into a relationship.

[sirfrogsworth]

Hard & Soft: An Explanation of Light

I was watching a video from one of my favorite tech YouTubers, Mr. Whose the Boss. He was showing off some of his favorite tech and pulled out this tiny LED light.

And then he placed a diffuser on the front and said this...

"You can equip a softbox on the front which *massively* softens the light on your face."

Sorry, Arun.

No it doesn't.

I sometimes wish I could get a job as a YouTube lighting advisor. So many creators have to set up and use professional lighting but very few actually have an understanding of how their lighting works. And with just a little knowledge they could up their lighting game big time.

If nothing else, I could stop the plague of ring lights.

Ring lights are my nemesis.

*shakes fist at ring lights*

Arun repeated a classic myth. Diffusing a light does *not* make it softer. And despite the name, a softbox is fully capable of producing hard light. Especially if it is only the size of your granddad's wallet.

I'm afraid softboxes are a bit misnamed—much like how the tremolo system on a guitar is technically a vibrato mechanism. Tremolo is a fluctuation of volume, not pitch. Personally, I just stick to calling it a whammy bar because that is more fun anyway. And, like, what does "whammy" even mean in the context of a guitar? I'd rather call something by a nonsensical name than an inaccurate one, ya know?

What the hell was I saying?

SOFTBOXES!

They should probably be called "light homogenizers." Which is a mouthful, but more accurate.

Or, hear me out... WHAMMY BOXES.

Froggie Note: I am trying a color coding technique to help make the most important information stand out. Red means PAY ATTENTION and blue means "do your best to remember this." Let me know if this is helpful or annoying or if a different color combo is preferred.

Hard Light vs. Soft Light

Hard light is a less flattering light source that creates high contrast, sharp shadows, and accentuates texture.

Soft light is a more flattering light source that creates soft shadows and reduces texture like pores, blemishes, and wrinkles.

You can *only* get hard or soft light by changing the apparent size of a light source from the subject's point of view.

If you remember only three things about light, they should be...

Bright light = sharp photos, less noise Hard light = small light source Soft light = large light source

Now, it's important to remember that hard light is not *bad* and soft light is not *good*. In photography, the oft-used parlance "flattering" just refers to the rendering of facial features and blemishes. So you might use a more flattering lens to make sure faces do not distort or a more flattering light modifier to reduce wrinkles.

But there are situations where soft light can be very boring and hard light can be much more dynamic and interesting. But if you have someone who is insecure about their skin or has a lot of blemishes, you can mitigate that by making the light softer. But if you have someone with great skin and a lot of angular facial features, you might use a hard light to show that off.

Which of these do you prefer?

The one on the left was taken with a 7 foot diameter light source and is *very* soft. But the other had a 1 foot diameter and I think it is more dynamic and interesting.

You can also mix hard and soft light. And with something like a parabolic reflector or a beauty dish, you can even modify a light source to be hard and soft at the same time.

This technological terror of a light modifier is sort of like having 24 individual small lights around the edges but the entire surface of the reflector also acts as a single large light source.

And when it isn't atomizing Alderaan, it is taking photos like this...

This creates a falloff of light around the edges of her face, nose, and arms while also reducing the intensity of the shadows. Lenses with longer focal lengths prevent distortion of facial features but also flatten our faces. So a modifier like this can bring back dimensionality.

Neat!

Now I just need $8,000 to buy the Death Star light.

There are a ton of possibilities when it comes to modifying light sources, but most people typically want the main light on the subject to be in the realm of soft and use hard light sources as edge lights.

Also, everything is a spectrum and light is no different. There is a giant space in between hard and soft to play with. In fact, the hardest light possible would be cast on a subject floating in space.

And the softest light possible would be on a planet that has 100% cloud coverage that still allows sunlight to scatter through.

So, I have determined the surface of Venus to be the most flattering light in the universe.

Look at how dark and sharp that astronaut shadow is! And I'm sure Venusian photography would be quite popular if you wouldn't burst into flames.

On planet Earth, noon on a clear day would be the hardest light and a very overcast day would be the softest light.

How can the sun be both hard and soft light?

Well, the sun is quite large, but it is very small in the sky and very far away. It is the only thing humans can observe that is close to a "point" light source—the smallest light source possible that shines light equally in all directions.

But on an overcast day, sunlight scatters through all of the clouds and becomes a HUGE homogenous light source. The clouds become a singular giant light above us. And as you can see, the light is so soft the woman does not have a hint of shadow on her face. And shadows can draw attention to pores, wrinkles, blemishes, and other textures.

But wouldn't the smallest light source be a laser or something?

When photographers refer to a small light source we mean from the perspective of the subject being lit. This is referred to as apparent or angular size.

But you also have to account for the size of the area the light source can illuminate.

This is the area a laser can light up.

And this is the area the sun is able to cats cast light upon.

It doesn't matter if a laser is close or far away, it focuses light onto a very small area. But the sun lights up half the planet. So look at imagine the apparent size of the sun in the sky and compare its size to half of the Earth. In that relative circumstance, the sun is a super tiny light source.

And the sun becomes an even tinier light source on the moon because there is no atmosphere or clouds to scatter and enlarge it.

You can change the apparent size of a light source in two ways...

The physical dimensions of the light and the distance from the subject.

A light with small dimensions can be a large light source if it is close enough and if the subject is small enough. So a flashlight could be a large light source for an ant if that flashlight is directly next to said ant. But a flashlight could never be a large light source to a human.

However, we can enlarge small light sources with modifiers.

A modifier can be a softbox. It can be a piece of paper. A large poster board. A wall or a ceiling. Anything that changes the nature of a light source can be a modifier. But not all modifiers increase the size of a light source.

So, you can take that flashlight, shine it on a wall, and reflect the light to make a giant light source capable of producing softer light.

But what you cannot do is put diffusion material directly in front of a flashlight and make the light it produces softer.

When Arun put that diffuser on the front of that tiny light, he was not making the light any bigger. He was only making the light more diffused.

What does diffusion *actually* do?

Diffusion scatters light. It makes light bounce in all directions and keeps it from being focused. And while this is an important aspect to making a light source larger, it does not change the apparent size of a light source on its own.

Diffused light is homogenous.

A homogenous light source has the same intensity across its entire surface area. And that homogenization is the key to creating a better soft light source. It can *assist* in making a light source larger, but only if you know how to wield that diffusion properly.

When you shine a flashlight toward a wall, you increase the apparent size of the light source.

Fantastic! You now have a softer light. Mission accomplished.

But if you do not diffuse it, you will create a hotspot.

That bright hotspot will reflect more light than all of the other light reflecting off the wall. That reflected light has different intensities across its surface area and you end up creating TWO distinct light sources—one hard and one soft.

This can sometimes be desired if you want to create graduated light that falls off like I showed earlier. But if it is not controlled well with a specialized modifier a hotspot can cause more problems than benefits.

This can reveal unwanted texture, double shadows, cause harsh glare, and it may not achieve the desired amount of soft, flattering light you were hoping for.

However, if you diffuse the light from the flashlight before it hits the wall, the light will scatter and reflect off the wall more evenly. You will create a more *homogenous* light source that acts as a single entity of light.

Diffusion does reduce the overall intensity of the light, but that is usually a worthy trade off for the increased homogeny.

These pesky hotspots are actually a big problem with those cheap softboxes you can buy off Amazon.

Many of them do not have enough diffusion to create a single homogenous light source. So they end up with a hotspot that gives you that double light source effect.

I was able to fix this with my friend Katrina's softbox by adding a layer of tracing paper in front.

You can see the chip clip holding the tracing paper in place on the right side.

Photography is just problem solving all the way down.

A higher quality softbox will have a second layer of diffusion already built in to prevent this, so make sure the softbox has this feature before buying.

Or invest in a roll of tracing paper and some chip clips.

Softboxes are an ingenious light modifier when built properly. They take a small light, diffuse it, enlarge it, and then focus it toward your subject. It's essentially a paradox of scattered & focused light. And since all of the scattering only happens *inside* the softbox, it gives you great control over how that light hits your subject. And you can focus it even more by putting a grid on the front.

This keeps light from "spilling" off to the sides though it can reduce intensity a bit and create unusual looking catchlights in the eyes.

Whereas a cheap shoot-through umbrella kinda "shoots" scattered light all over the place and causes a ton of extra reflections off the walls and ceilings. That may end up giving you unwanted second, third, and fourth light sources contributing to your exposure.

You can see light hitting the left and right walls and the ceiling—those pesky photons are going everywhere! And while it is giving a soft, flattering result due to that umbrella being so freaking big, you have almost no control over the light and how it affects your background.

So, yes, a softbox can make a small light source bigger, but that doesn't always mean you will get "soft" light.

This softbox takes a 10 inch LED panel and creates a 12 inch light source. This is mostly a scam product.

The marketing says it makes the light softer.

And while that is *technically* true, I'm afraid people are going to be disappointed if they think this thing is going to dramatically soften their light. A small increase in surface area like that would only be dramatically different if you were lighting a little toy car or the hypothetical ant friend I mentioned earlier. Something the size of a person is not going to see a difference in softness. Not to mention you are going to decrease the power of your light by adding diffusion and have no softening benefits.

Photography gear companies love taking advantage of new photographers because the desire to buy more gear to improve the quality of photos is quite strong. This is jokingly referred to as G.A.S. or "Gear Acquisition Syndrome." And while there is absolutely gear you can buy to improve your photos (lights, lenses, tripods), knowledge trumps any piece of gear at any time.

So, no, this scam softbox will not make the light appreciably softer. The only way to make this light softer is to find a softbox that enlarges it more than 2 friggin' inches, bounce it off something larger, or bring it closer to the subject. Move your light as close as possible and you will enlarge its apparent size.

Or, conversely, you can move your light farther away to make it hard.

Meaning you can technically make a softbox a hardbox.

Seriously, can we just do the whammy box thing?

So, what have we learned?

Soft light is more flattering to skin and reduces texture and harsh shadows.

Hard light increases contrast, sharpens shadows, and highlights texture.

Neither is good or bad. Soft light can be boring. Hard light can be interesting. A mixture of the two often produces the best result.

The only way to make light softer is to enlarge the light source.

You can enlarge a light source by...

Increasing the physical dimensions with a modifier.

Moving the light closer.

Reflecting the light off a larger surface.

Diffusion alone does not make a light softer.

Diffusion makes a light source more homogenous by mitigating hotspots.

Softboxes create homogenous light that you can direct and focus.

A softbox can still produce hard light if it is really small or really far away.

We should call it a whammy box.

How can you use this knowledge?

Well, the first thing you can do is...

DON'T BUY A RING LIGHT.

YES, I AM RANTING ABOUT RING LIGHTS AGAIN!

That giant hole in the middle of your light is a great spot for extra light.

And as we just learned, a larger light source is softer. So unless you specifically need a ring light and know how to use it (facial close-ups, camera goes in the hole), you are better off getting the biggest light you can fit in your space.

Look at how much bigger this light is than if it were a ring light.

It's like all of these influencers are throwing perfectly good light into the garbage.

Sorry, let's try this again.

Once you avoid ring lights, how can you use this knowledge?

I know a lot of you reading this are not influencers or YouTubers or photographers. And you may be thinking all of this knowledge I just shoved in your dome is useless.

But here's the thing...

We all take photos.

And I think we all want our photos to look their best.

If you start thinking more about light when you take photos, I promise you will be able to improve their quality.

If you are taking a selfie, think about where you can go that has a larger light source. Perhaps you have a large window. Or you have a big overhead light or floor lamp that shines up into the ceiling.

I actually had this idea to create a mega light that could blend in with a house's decor, but secretly be a photography light for taking pictures of people and pets indoors at night.

Secret Photography Light Ingredients Cheap Floorlamp Dual Light Socket Adapter 9000 Lumen LED Bulbs

(Seriously, if you put that together, stick it in a corner, and turn it on when your kids or pets are playing, you will never have another blurry photo from inside your house unless they are going full zoomies.)

If you are outside on a sunny day, don't stand in direct sunlight.

Remember, THE SUN IS ACTUALLY SMALL, angularly speaking. Find a shady spot under a tree. Or put the sun behind you and face a big white wall so the reflected light smacks you in the face.

Walls are light sources!

The ground is a light source!

Remember that moon photo?

You were looking at the sharp shadow earlier because I drew your attention to the sun being a small light source.

But the surface of the moon... HUGE LIGHT SOURCE.

How do you think the front of that space suit is lit when the sun is behind him? Either Stanley Kubrick has a big reflector offscreen or the ground is a soft second light source.

If you can't make it to the moon, just wait to take that selfie on a cloudy day. I think overcast light is a little boring, but your skin will look buttery smooth without using those stupid Facetune apps.

You can also wait for good light. Sometimes sunset has some nice, soft directional light because it has more atmosphere to scatter, diffuse, and enlarge it.

If you are indoors, don't use direct flash on your phone. Never ever use direct flash if you can avoid it. But perhaps you are with friends and they all have phones too. Use one or more phones to bounce the flashlight off a nearby wall. Or open up a paper napkin and hold it just out of frame and shine light through it and diffuse it.

A piece of paper can even work!

Flashlight 3 feet away shining directly onto my face...

Flashlight shining through a piece of paper a few inches in front of it...

Flashlight shining through a piece of paper 2 feet away that is just out of frame...

I started with a small light source.

I then made the light source a little bigger with the paper, but the diffusion was too close and it created the dreaded hotspot of doom.

And then I made the light source as big as I could by moving the paper as close to my face as possible without being in the shot. This also gave the light more room to scatter and diffuse making it homogenous.

Froggie Tip: I was using a pretty powerful flashlight, so with a phone you might get better results *bouncing* the light off the paper rather than shining the light through the paper.

So, before you take a photo, just think about how you can make your light source bigger, brighter, and more homogenous and you might be surprised how much better you look.

ANYONE CAN DO THIS!

[cosmicplexus]

Random Astrology Observations

���I wasn't feeling lazy today so this is a bit longer than the usual observation posts🌻

🦋And finally the pricing catalogue is here...at the end of the observations 🦋

Thank you so much my sunflowers🌻your support has been everything. I try my best to respond to your messages and requests. If you haven't received a response, I'm coming 🤍✨

And I tried my best to be reasonable with the prices. Also, I'm not yet doing full chart readings as I am a student with two majors and I'm already struggling with balancing things. In time I will do them. Free one question culture requests are still open, but please don't request for things you see on the pricing catalogue like a big three reading...

I don't want to bore you all too much so here we go🧚🏾‍♀️🦋🌻✨

Astrology Notes...

~4th house Gemini makes for someone who develops family-like bonds in friendships.

~taurus risings tend to be possessive due to the influence of their scorpio 7th house.

~pluto at angular houses 1st, 7th, 4th and 10th is a huge indicator of someone who has had intense experiences in the respective key areas of life and there's spiritual lessons to be learnt regarding that area through transformation.

~libra venus placements may find it really hard to stay single

~7° and 19° venus or moon signs may struggle with the theme of physical perfection and wanting to attain it.

~virgo moons have a tendency of creating problems if they don't have any current ones to solve

~capricorn risings really do look older in their younger days and younger when they're older.

~moon and neptune in 1st house natives may give off the perception that they need saving and may attract people with a martyrdom complex.

~sagittarius, 9th house, 9° and 21° mercuries may have an affinity to music in foreign languages while cancer, 4th house, 4°,16°,28° may enjoy music in their mother tongue

~jupiter in 2nd house and 10th house is heavy lotto winner vibes. Literally and figuratively.

~mercury in 2nd house and at Taurean degrees(2°,14° and 26°) are the born singers

~the 22nd degree is an underrated fame degree...I have a bey's🐝 fame analysis I've been sitting on for a while. That's a conversation for another day.

~pisces venus and mars are the most romantic people in the world which makes me kind of believe the astrology theory of neptune being the higher frequency of venus.

~leo moons really take their hair seriously and may feel out of loop if their hair is not well done.

~want to easily impress a cancer mars man??? Sing praises to your mom. Be dotting around kids.

~girls with 9th house, 9° and 21° Venus are so magically beautiful. Abundance of beauty.

~To a decent degree, liberation of women in society came at the expense of gemini, sagittarius and aquarius venus women being slut-shamed(This is not at all saying other women did not contribute to the liberation of women 🌻✨ That's a conversation for another day)

~neptune plays a huge role in beauty trends and that's why neptune dominant women are usually the beauty influencers which explains why beauty standards are mutable and ever changing.

~jupiter in 7th house can go two ways... extreme luck in meaningful relationships or someone who never has serious relationships and is forever on the look...

~pisces/12th house mercuries and mercury afflicted by neptune are often under fire for being the liars when the real culprit is the sagittarius/9th house mercuries and mercury-jupiter hard aspects.

~I personally view the north node as a jupiter variant. While the general consensus is that it is the purpose we're working for, I do believe that it's also an indicator of our birthrights, innate gifts and where we're lucky.

~Cosmic Plexus🌻🤍

§~PRICE CATALOGUE~§ ~PAID READINGS COMMENCE ON THE 16th of May 2024 🦋DETAILED BIG THREE READING ~ $6.00

🦋5 IN-DEPTH SYNASTRY QUESTIONS READING ~ $9.00 🦋OVERALL SYNASTRY ADVICE ~ $3.00

🦋SPIRITUALITY AND PURPOSE FOCUSED READING ~ $6.00 🦋CAREER ADVICE ~ $3.00 🦋 RELATIONSHIP REMEDY TIPs $3.00

Let me know your thoughts...

~Cosmic Plexus🤍✨🌻🦋©️

[nenoname]

How Stan+Ford+Bill refer to each other

Stan

Ford:

Childhood: Stanley (9)

Teen: Stan (2)

Pre-Portal: Stanley (15), my brother (5), S (2)

Post-Portal: Stanley (33), Stan (13), my brother (7), my hotheaded brother, idiot (2), knucklehead, [Dipper's] uncle Stan, hero, stubborn mullet-haired frostbitten vagabond, wrinkly carnival barker, irresponsible shortcut-loving overgrown child, cheater, fraud, "looks like me if I gave up on life"

Post-Weirdmageddon: Stanley (16), Stan (5), my brother (2), Stanley Pines, hero (2), the man who saved the world, "selfish jerk", the most selfless man I’ve ever met in any dimension

Lost Pages: S (5), Stanley (4), my brother (3)

(S is a pre-portal incident Journal only thing + pre-portal incident Journals only has "Stanley" mentioned in code, tends to call him Stan when talking to the kids)

Bill:

Pre-Weirdmageddon: Stan Pines, Stan (6), old man, [D+M's] uncle, you idiot, Stanley

Post-Weirdmageddon: Stanley (7), Stan (10), Stanley Pines (2), fat grandpa, fumbling idiot con man, weaker copy of Sixer, Bootleg Sixer, mouth breathing carnival barker, gambler, lifelong loser, goofus, PTSD Barnum, side character, co-dependent, stupid, tacky, smug, unworthy, resume-inflating cheap trick loving past-denying overgrown child, pathetic excuse for a 5-sensed three-dimensional one-life spanned skin puppet, carbon-copy of a better genetic duplicate, conman clown, Lucky Stan

Non-canon shorts/Reddit AMA/That cut perpetual machine nightmare: Stan, Stanley, Stan Pines, slick

Lost Pages: inferior clone, brother (when pretending to be Ford)

(Most of the post-Weirdmageddon Stan mentions are for the "fun" facts in the Wheel of Shame, Bill spends the How not to Draw short never directly acknowledging Stan which I find hilarious)

Ford

Stan:

Childhood: Sixer (5), Stanford, Ford, Poindexter, bro, buddy

Teen: Sixer, Stanford (2), nerd robot

Pre-Portal: Stanford (5), pal, you jerk

Post-Portal: Stanford (3), Ford (8), Poindexter (2), my brother (11), brother, bro, the Author of the Journals, you ungrateful-, my nerdy twin brother, my dumb brother, know-it-all, dangerous-know-it-all, world's nerdiest old man, show-off, that jerk, stuck up son of a gun

Post-Weirdmageddon: Sixer (5), Ford (3), my brother (5), Stanford, Fordsy, bro, my nerdy bro, Brainiac, Mr Goody Nerd-Shoes

(Tends to use "Stanford" when shit's serious, yes i'm including the two getting traumatised by thrist comments clip come and stop me)

Bill:

Pre-betrayal: Sixer (2), Stanford, smart guy, Stanford Pines

Post-betrayal: Sixer (5), Stanford (2), Ford (4), Stanford Filbrick Pines, Stanford Pines, ol' Six-Fingers (2), Fordsy (2), my old pal, IQ, Mr Brainiac, Brainiac (2), [Mabel's] uncle, our friend, old man, kid, tough guy, pal, Mr Serious

Post-Weirdmageddon: Sixer (20), Ford (7), Fordsy (2), drama queen, fella, sad nerd, genius, idiot, partner, Mr Tabletop Gaming, backstabber, gallant, perfect pawn, pet human

Lost Pages: Sixer (7), Fordsy, Slick, pal, my old pal, my property

Bill

Stan:

Pre-Weirdmageddon: Bill (3), all-powerful space demon, you one-eyed demon, wise-guy

Post-Weirdmageddon: Bill (3), Bill Cipher, little wise guy, Pointy, jerk of the week, narc

Non-canon shorts/That cut perpetual machine nightmare: you creepy triangle, guy (3), nacho, cop

Ford:

Pre-betrayal: My Muse (19), a strange being from a higher plane, being (3), strange whimsical creature, true friend, Bill (2, however!! this is from Dreamscaperers long before J3 was properly written)

Post-betrayal: Bill (default way of referring to him), My "muse" (3) Bill Cipher (10), Cipher (10), the demon (2), my enemy (3), you insane three sided--, The Beast with Just One Eye, the devil, liar, monster, angular psychopath, nightmare in disguise, king of nightmares, the Triangle, a has-been, a needy theater kid

Lost Pages: Bill (17), my Muse (11), Cipher (18) , Bill Cipher (2), extradimensional deity of knowledge, Cill Bipher, this Bill guy

[ruesol]

catalyst - chapter 7

Life has many twists and turns- yours included getting rejected from med school and ending up as a manager for your burnt-out pro boxer ex. (sukuna x reader)

fanfic masterlist

You wake up in flashes, chasing after sleep every hour or so. The pearlescent moon hangs high enough for its light to dimly light up the long window sill in Sukuna’s bedroom. If you squint hard enough, you can probably see the craters on it–similar to little scars around Sukuna’s arms and chest. Probably the result of amateur underground fighting with little to no safety gear.

This is when you really see him, though. When awake, he’s a tornado, a wuthering storm crashing into everything around him. Like your eyes, your hands are magnetized, and the tips of your fingers can’t help but glide along the harsh black lines on his face like they were guiding you in memorizing his face (not that you needed to.)

You start at his angular chin, tracing the smooth skin till you reach his cheekbones. The lines on his face are strategically drawn—the artist’s vision only brought out more of his rugged handsomeness. All chiseled edges and razor-sharp teeth, no room for softness besides in his loving gaze.

You traced the slim, jagged eye tattoo on his cheekbone, which looked similar to Yuuji’s scar. Knowing Sukuna, he never got tattoos for aesthetics. Whatever the black strokes on his face and body meant was deep to him.

“Can’t get enough of me, can you?” he grumbled out in a sleepy haze as you left a kiss where your finger previously was.

“Possibly,” you answered with a lovesick, Cheshire smile. “I’m just familiarizing myself with your tattoos. Why’d you get them?”

With his eyes still closed, Sukuna shifts so that you’re laying on top of him, chest-to-chest, bare bodies still warm from your activities a couple of hours ago.

“Yuuji was very self-conscious about the scars on his face. Felt like people were staring at him everywhere he went. I decided to get these tattoos to help him cope better. You know, take the attention off of him.”

Sukuna’s reasoning reminded you of why you fell in love with him in the first place. Sure, he was a hard-headed oaf most of the time, but when he truly loved someone, he was deeply invested, looking out for them more than himself.

A surprisingly selfless man, given his attitude to many things in life.

You brush your lips on his and see him immediately fight back a sleepy grin. “Go to sleep,” he murmured before tightening his arms around you and leaving a light peck on your lips.

You ignored his command. “You softie,” you giggled.

Your comment made Sukuna immediately open his eyes. He was still sleepy, but his gaze was energetically accusatory. “I’m a grown man. Don’t call me that,” he snarked. “I’m anything but a softie.”

You stamped a kiss on his cheek and grinned at him. “You’re right, grown men like you aren’t softies. Softies don’t like being held in their sleep,” you say as you try to get out of his grasp, but he tuts and rolls you back down on the bed so your body is trapped underneath his hard and muscled one.

“Don’t play with me, woman,” he playfully chided as he nipped your naked shoulder. “I can show you the difference between hard and soft right now.”

The hunger in his gaze from a few hours ago had returned once more. You licked your swollen lips and gulped for what was to come.

“Sukuna, I’m still sore from earlier,” you whine as his kisses trail from your shoulder to your neck, revisiting the places he made blotchy purple marks on before. His tongue traces along the path of hickeys, going all the way down to the curve of your breast.

“I’ve let you rest enough,” he mumbled against your dewy skin. “You’ve been resting for the past two years anyway, right? Waiting to be touched by me again.”

Even if Sukuna cannot see your embarrassed gaze, he senses your trembling heart when your hand unconsciously squeezes his shoulder. He knows he has to reassure you, or your mind will begin reeling as usual. “Good, me too,” he says before kissing your pert nipple, relishing the sound of your gasp when his warm tongue brushes against it. “There wasn’t one day where I didn’t think of you. Should’ve locked you down with a ring on your finger when I had the chance.”

You giggle at the thought of him proposing to you with nothing to back him up but dreams of being a professional boxer and a little brother who thought the world of him. The ring would probably have been a silver sterling for the time being–Sukuna made promises he fulfilled, so it would eventually turn into a diamond one.

“Are you asking me to marry you?” you pull him up to face you, and you need to take a moment to hold your breath because you had never seen him look at you or anyone with so much love. Eyes half-lidded, lips apart, and rubicund cheeks.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he playfully retorts before leaving a quick kiss on your lips. “If I’m gonna propose to you, then it’s gonna be perfect–when we’re both ready. With a ring and everything.” He kisses you again, taking more time to savor the taste of your tongue.

There’s a certain satisfying ache you feel when you realize that you have your arms wrapped around the love of your life–disbelief.

Disbelief that you could ever be happy and get what you want. Everything was slowly falling into place, and it was beginning to feel real; from visualizing your dreams to materializing them in front of you. Medical school didn’t seem so far away anymore. Achieving your dreams and getting your happily ever after was concrete–set in stone. Ubiquitous. 

– 

The following weeks were blissful.

The differences in Sukuna’s personality were surprising but welcoming. He had become better at communicating and was diligent when it came to following his treatment regime.

You quickly learned that he obeyed better when you rewarded him after he did supposedly annoying things like his physiotherapy sessions, meeting his psychologist, and eating the meals his nutritionist had provided for him. He was finally starting to get better. So quickly, you started feeling like you were being paid to be a stay-at-home girlfriend.

“I don’t know, I just–I don’t see the point of getting paid if you’re basically driving yourself to all your appointments and doing everything yourself. I feel like I’m taking advantage of you,” you said while sitting on the kitchen counter, watching Sukuna shuffle around, preparing dinner for you. 

“Let me at least set the table–” he interrupted you by placing a piece of bread in your mouth. 

“No.”

“Why not?” you garbled out.

“Sukuna Ryomen’s girlfriend does not service others.”

You swallow the piece of bread before speaking. “I am literally going to be a healthcare worker. My whole drive is to help those who need it.” 

Sukuna scoffs at your answer and backs away, outstretching his muscular and tatted arms. “Does this man seem like he needs help?” he asks with a cocked brow.

“With his ego, yeah,” you quip as you get off the counter, making your way to the clean dishes by the sink.

“Oh, no, you don’t.” Sukuna grabs you by your waist before you can walk over to your destination and places you back on the counter, locking your legs around his waist so you don’t leave again.

“What is wrong with you?” you groan as you pinch the bridge of your nose.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” he warned you as he gathered your face in his large hands. “You should start preparing for more important things like the next application cycle. It’s my turn to support you.”

“Sukuna, I’d much rather you focus on your career right now,” you answered. 

“And I’d much rather support you as you do me.” He was adamant, gaze undeterred from your face as he leaned his forehead against yours. You didn’t miss how his chest started rising and falling quicker, proximity having similar effects on you two.

“This isn’t like the past. We’re one now. You and me forever, which means all your good and bad moments are mine too. Got it?”

You bite your lip before letting out a deep breath from your nose. “I understand,” you mumble.

“Good girl. Now, gimme a kiss to seal the deal,” he said through a smirk. His large paws moved from your thighs to your waist, pulling your center closer to his. You gasp at the light bump of his semi-hardness to your core. You lean in, lips barely brushing against his as you breathe him in, pine and sandal after shower after returning from his physio session. Your groan rattles you to your core as you kiss him deeply. He tastes fresh, possibly from the smoothie he drank earlier. You can’t help but suck his tongue and wrap your legs around his waist, lightly grinding your cunt against him.

The friction is too much for him because he hardens up completely and paws on your shirt. “Mmm…dinner’s gonna get cold,” you mumbled through kisses.

“We can heat it later. I’m in the mood for some dessert first,” he replies before licking into your mouth, hands massaging the bare skin of your waist beneath your shirt.

You're shapeless with him, body melting against his hold like warm butter on toast. He kisses you in a way that’s blissful, warm, and hearty yet sensual at the same time.

The sudden ringing of his phone jolts you out of your romantic daze. The phone rings about three times till you tap Sukuna on his bicep, who’s still busy kissing you. “You gonna get that?” you ask once he begins to move down your neck, licking and sucking your skin.

He ignores you until you pinch his arm, which makes him bite your neck in retaliation. “It could be important. Go pick it up, or there’s no dessert after dinner,” you reprimand him. 

He groans before he pulls out his phone out of his pocket. “Just when things were getting fun.”

His facial expression changes when he sees the caller ID. When he picks up, his face hardens.

“Hey...now?....I–yeah, okay, I’ll be there.”

You kick your legs in the air out of anticipation. He places his phone on the counter and sighs, staring at it with his hands on his hips. If the circumstances were less tense, you would’ve called him sexy.

“Everything okay?” you ask, pulling his arm to focus on you. He doesn’t look back at you but holds your hand to acknowledge your efforts.

“Coach Yaga wants me to go the gym. He says that he wants to talk to me about my comeback.”

Sukuna’s loss was still a sensitive topic for him. He never said it aloud, but he went from being a champion to simply losing because burnout had been eating him up from the inside, often questioning his passion for the sport.

“Do you wanna go?” you asked as you rubbed up his arm. “You don’t have to if it’s too soon. It’s your call.”

There’s a sad smile on his face when he turns to look at you. His thick arms wrap around you as he settles a bit of his weight on your body, face resting on your shoulder.

“I’m not gonna lie; I’ve thought about retiring a lot quite recently. I only got into boxing to help earn some extra cash on the side. I never genuinely liked it.” Considering how prideful and guarded he was about his inner thoughts, you knew it took a lot for him to open up to you like this. Pity was never something he wanted from you–only acknowledgment and support. So that’s what you did–you sat silently and scratched his scalp.

“But if I’m gonna retire, I won’t do it so abruptly. I’m gonna do it with a win. I need you to watch me fight at least once,” he says as he pulls away. He lifts you off the counter with no effort and pulls you close by your waist.

“Will you come with me to see Coach Yaga?”

“Of course.”

–

The gym where Sukuna trains for his fights is high-end, a place meant for actual athletes. The walls and floor are black, drawing attention to the bright spotlights that shine down on the large boxing ring in the middle, where a few trainers are practicing. Some athletes are assessing their form while looking into a large floor-to-ceiling mirror. Black punching bags hang from the ceiling in another corner. The entire gymnasium smells like leather and sweat.

Some of the fighters at the gym recognize Sukuna and wave at him. Some yell that it’s great to see him.

True to his personality, Sukuna only nods in acknowledgment. He guides you to Yaga’s office with his arm around your shoulder, guarding you from the leery stares of other men.

“So possessive,” you giggle when he glares at yet another man whose eyes are following you two.

“Fuck’s sake,” he groans.

“I think they’re just surprised you have a girlfriend,” you try to reason when you notice his arms flexing. Jealousy was a good color on him.

“Yeah, right. Totally not because you happen to be hot,” he sarcastically quipped.

You peck his cheek to cool him off before he’s about to meet his boss.

The door to Coach Yaga’s office looks daunting even though the only thing displayed on it is his name. Sukuna sighs and opens the door before you can stop him and ask him to let you go.

“Hey, hope you don’t mind if my girlfriend’s here.” Ever so crass, Sukuna only lets you go when you hit his arm. It surprised you how he was so lax with his coach around.

“Hello, Coach Yaga,” you said through an awkward smile.

“Nice to see you again. Have a seat,” he said as he pointed to the chair across his desk. He didn’t bother asking Sukuna to do the same. 

Coach Yaga brushed past your discomfort by immediately diverting his attention to Sukuna. “I’ve been in touch with your physiotherapist–they say you’re as healthy as a horse. Sure look like it too with her by your side,”

Sukuna only chuckles at his coach’s words, and you bashfully choose to look out the window.

“Yeah, well, I guess a break was what I really needed. And I’ve been thinking…I wanna retire with a final match.” The lack of hesitance in Sukuna’s voice convinced Yaga that this was a decision he must’ve thought a lot over. A coach always knows when his athlete has given his all and is ready to move on to the next stage of life. Like you, Yaga knew Sukuna didn’t have a true passion for the sport.

“Are you sure? You can’t go back on your word.”

“More than I’ll ever be. I just want to win one last match.”

You know you couldn’t hear it, but you could tell what he meant with how he stared at you.

He wanted to win his last match for you.

——

taglist: @7haze @sukubusss@kyo-kyo1 @kensqueent @totallygyomeiswife@missthatgirl@iluv-ace@emoedgylord@miakxn@sunasgf1@lolilewenk@clp-84@sodapop182@therealjustpeachesback@msanimeotaku181@aerareads@rebels-rewrite@emochosoluvr @justlia110 @thejujvtsupost

[explorastro]

RANDOM ASTRO TAKES #3

People born with Neptune in 1H can have heights in their career that not so much people can reaching. That’s because they embodies possibly an ideal at a moment of their life, physically or mentally.

The ban of TikTok during the Venus/Saturn conjunction in Pisces square Jupiter in Gemini is really a return to reality for content creators who scattered the attention span of their followers with a boost of dopamine. It’s a drug abuse that everyone should fight internally. I seriously think that the South Node in Virgo opposite a conjunction North Node/Neptune in Pisces ruler of Saturn makes a lot of people delusional about the responsibilities of each in the destruction of species, the global warming, dumbification of society, that’s terrible for our future.

If you’re lost to interpret outer planets, using their discovery chart can helping you to be more precise on what influence they have, the big three of each :

Uranus, Scorpio Rising/Pisces Sun/Scorpio Moon

Neptune, Cancer Rising/Virgo Sun/Scorpio Moon

Pluto, Leo rising/Aquarius Sun/Scorpio Moon.

The three discovery charts have a Scorpio Moon, that symbolizes the transformation of astrology after each discovery, the emotional depths when conflicts are bringing up to interpreting the planets and all the collective psychology behind them. If you want to knowing better outer planets, start by knowing better Scorpio Moon and her patterns.

Moon and Mars fall in mutual reception bc they’re similar under these signs, reactive and instinctively emotional, intuitively assertive and self destructive patterns. This is our animal spirit, the fuel that feeds your soul. Aquarius (human) has Cancer (instincts) in 6H (animals) where Mars rejoices and Scorpio (depths) in 10H (public image).

The alchemical transmutation is based on the 7 seven planets who are in analogy with 7 metals, like it’s’ so Kali Yuga coded.

Moon and Sun domiciles and exaltation signs follow each others like the light and shadow in the celestial course. It’s a cosmic dance of the duality who makes one in a beautiful artistic cosmos. Aries, Taurus, Cancer and Leo are the brightest of the zodiac, they radiate charisma.

Aries : a pioneer, strong athlete, big brain who learn quickly, the spark who light up the room

Taurus : the warming fireplace who wraps the room in its tender warmth

Cancer/Leo : the midnight sweet summer that gives you memories for life, the beach, vacations, evenings

Mercury makes the link btw the two Moon signs and receive two sextile from the Sun signs, a very alchemist thing.. 😌

It's interesting to note that the golden age of oil began in 1859, when Uranus was in Taurus sextile Neptune in Pisces. 166 years later for theirs returns, resources are running out after numerous crises and the future without them is not yet prepared worldwide. But when oil was starting to be used massively it was in 1920 when Saturn was in Virgo, the health of the Earth had started to be impacted massively by our consumption.

With Pluto angular to his derivative sign, Scorpio. I think we gonna experiments a lot more of natural catastrophes on earth, like hurricanes and tsunamis after seism. Taurus is in derivative 4H of Pluto that is in derivative 4H of his sign, he’s gonna destroying all the capitalism.

Mars dominant people are so aware of themselves that they can expand their awareness to the world and universe like Buddha, but David Chalmers is also a good example. His quotes on the consciousness are untouchable.

[sugary-strawberry-shortcake]

Where You Are, I’m Home

a Kim Taehyung one shot.

Summary:

After a long year serving in South Korea’s elite Special Duty Team, Kim Taehyung finally comes home—to her. The girl he left behind. The one who waited. But while their love is still there, so is everything the military changed in him.

A/N: this is so foreign in comparison to what I usually post. But I had to do so for the 13-year-old girl inside of me who‘s obsessed with BTS. Is it impossible for me to get concert tickets after their break? Yeah. Will I stop fantasizing? Never😓

btw this is romance so no platonic at all.

TW: ptsd mentions, men being disgusting, no smut (I would never write that) but mentions of them having done it, also I do not know how the military is like it’s just my imagination :)

Still unedited! Sometimes I used different narratives oops

And I will continue Blossom reverse, just going through drafts :)

The morning air was biting cold despite the spring sun trying to climb over the rooftops, pale gold light sifting through clouds like fingers reaching gently for something long-lost. Y/N waited just outside the security gates, her hands shoved into the sleeves of her oversized cardigan, her heart beating louder than the wind.

He was supposed to arrive around 8:00 a.m.

It was 7:53.

The young woman shifted on her feet, the white soles of her sneakers scuffing against the ground. Her body was still, but her mind wasn’t. She could still hear his voice from the last phone call three nights ago — deep, gravel-lined from exhaustion and distance. Even then, even through the crackling line and all the military-coded short phrases, he still said:

“I’ll be different when I come back, jagi. Not in a bad way. Just… older. Don’t be surprised.”

She didn’t fully understand what he meant. She had visited him, yes, a few times — brief weekends that vanished in a blink. And there were nights she’d fall asleep with her phone on her chest, his voice the last sound in her ear, muffled by static and time. But now, it was different.

Now, he was coming home for good.

The woman didn’t cry. Not yet. But her chest was tight — like something had been wound inside her since the day he left, and now it was slowly, painfully starting to unwind.

The base gates opened.

And then she saw him.

Uniform pressed. Boots shining. That familiar black beret angled perfectly atop his head — a symbol of what he’d endured, what he’d survived. But none of that struck you as hard as him.

Kim Taehyung had always been beautiful — honey skin, sleepy eyes, voice like velvet and thunder. The man of her dreams. But now…

Now he was different.

Broader shoulders, thicker arms that stretched the fabric of his uniform tight across his biceps. His jawline had hardened, more angular than she remembered, more man than boy now. His expression was unreadable — composed, still, almost too still.

Until he saw his girl.

His steps paused — just for a second. His gaze fixed, sharp as a blade and soft as a whisper. Then the world seemed to tilt forward as he crossed the distance between you in long, silent strides.

Y/N forgot everything you’d planned to say.

“Taehyung—” she breathed, but the sound broke, and before you knew it, you were running.

Your shoes slapped against pavement as you flung yourself into him — arms wrapped tightly around his neck, your face burying in the crook of his shoulder. He caught you effortlessly, one strong arm wrapping around your waist, the other cradling the back of your head like something precious.

He didn’t say a word at first.

His grip was crushing. His body was warm. Hard. Solid.

And you were trembling.

“I missed you,” you whispered into his uniform. Your voice cracked on the second word.

You felt him exhale. Slow. Heavy. Like it had been trapped in him for months.

His mouth pressed into your hair.

“I missed you more than I knew how to say.”

You clung to him tighter. Your small frame curled into his, swallowed whole by the man he’d become. It was still him — your Taehyung. The one who used to leave little sticky notes on your mirror with doodles of tigers and kisses. The one who laughed with his whole body, and sometimes stayed up at night just to watch you sleep.

But something deeper lived behind his eyes now.

You felt it when he pulled back just slightly, just enough to look at you. His eyes roved over your face like he was trying to memorize it from scratch. His fingers touched your cheek like they couldn’t believe you were real.

“You’re still so small,” he murmured, voice like a low hum in your chest.

You smiled, blinking fast. “And you’re… not.”

His lips twitched into the ghost of a smile. “Military food,” he said flatly. “Push-ups. And crawling through mud for eight hours.”

You laughed — watery and breathless — and leaned forward, resting your forehead against his. “You really did change,” you whispered.

He didn’t deny it.

There was a long, quiet moment between you, full of everything neither of you could say out loud. Things he’d seen. Things he’d endured. The shadows under his eyes weren’t just from sleepless nights — they were born from things that would never make it into songs or interviews.

“You okay?” you asked gently.

“I am now.”

That answer came without hesitation. And the way he looked at you — intense, unwavering — made your stomach flutter and your eyes sting.

He looked at you like you were the only familiar thing in a world that had gone cold and violent.

Then his hand cupped the back of your neck, firm and possessive. His body shifted closer — his chest pressing against yours, your head tucked right beneath his chin, and he just held you. Like time had stopped.

“I don’t want to let you go,” he said, voice low. “Not for a second.”

“Then don’t.”

The air around you thickened. There was a new tension there now — not just reunion, but longing. Deep and physical. Your fingers clung to his collar, nails grazing the base of his neck, and he let out a breath that trembled slightly.

“I used to dream of this moment,” you said, soft against his skin. “And now you’re here, and I don’t even know what to do.”

His answer was a murmur, rough at the edges. “Let me take care of you. The way I’ve been dreaming about for months.”

Your pulse jumped. Your cheeks flushed. He leaned back just enough to look into your eyes, and the expression he wore was one you hadn’t seen before. Mature. Grounded. Possessive.

There was no boy left in him.

Only the man he’d become.

The man who came back to you.

________

The apartment was full — not loud, but full.

Namjoon had arrived first, clapping Taehyung on the back with that signature dimpled grin, his hair still regulation-short, his posture just a little straighter now, like the military hadn’t fully left his spine. Jin followed not long after — not in uniform, but carrying his usual brand of calm chaos with a grin that masked the months of waiting and missing and enduring.

And in the middle of it all, quietly orchestrating dinner in the background, was you.

You weren’t supposed to be seen.

Not on camera. Not in selfies. Not in the live. You moved like a ghost in your own home — barefoot, in soft jeans and a plain sweatshirt, your hair pulled up in a loose bun as you helped the quiet staff from the company set up drinks and arrange the food.

You’d spent the day preparing for this.

They were going live on Weverse. For the fans. For their brothers. For the first time since discharge.

And you?

You were the hidden heartbeat between them all. Taehyung’s secret girl, his quiet refuge — the one person who’d loved him before the beret and the camouflage and the harsh, freezing nights crawling through drills no one would ever know about.

From the kitchen island, you watched them get ready.

Taehyung in black — a loose cotton shirt that clung just enough to hint at how wide his chest had gotten. Hair pushed back, exposing the sharper cut of his face now. The tattoos on his hands were more visible than ever. So was the faint shadow beneath his eyes.

He was laughing with Namjoon, but you saw it. The stiffness that sometimes crept into his smile. The alertness behind his eyes.

“Five minutes, hyung,” a staff member called.

Namjoon nodded. Jin, ever casual, grabbed a bottle of water and cracked it open, flopping onto the couch beside Taehyung like he’d never been gone.

You moved to hand the plates to a staff assistant, smiling gently. But as you turned, the corner of the tray was accidentally jostled, and you flinched—not from the tray, but from the sudden, hard elbow of one of the staff brushing against your face, too fast and unintentional.

A sharp sting bloomed across your cheekbone.

“Oh! I’m so sorry—” the staff gasped, reaching out instinctively.

You quickly shook your head, hands up. “It’s okay, I’m fine—”

But he was already watching.

From across the room, Taehyung’s head snapped in your direction. His smile faded instantly. His body stilled. The conversation fell to static behind him as his gaze narrowed, jaw tightening like stone.

The room didn’t notice. But you did.

His hand curled slightly into a fist on his thigh.

He couldn’t say anything. Not on live. Not with cameras about to roll. But the look he gave the staff member — dark, piercing, quiet — made your skin prickle. He didn’t blink. Didn’t move. Just stared for a beat too long, until the staff member backed away instinctively.

Namjoon called his name, drawing him back.

“Tae? You good?”

His voice didn’t change. He leaned back into the couch, nodded once. “Yeah.”

But you knew that tone.

Low. Clipped. Unforgiving.

You finished setting the last cup of tea beside the snacks and retreated into the hallway just as the live countdown started. The screen lit up.

🟢 [LIVE] — Namjoon and Taehyung have joined.

The chat exploded.

He smiled for the camera. Laughing beside Namjoon, joking with Jin as he leaned into the frame from off-screen. But the tension in Taehyung’s jaw never fully disappeared. His hands were loose now, yes, but his energy — it was taut. Watchful. Every now and then, his eyes would flick to the hallway — where he knew you were.

He answered questions — talking about training, about missing the members, about what it felt like to finally shower without twenty other men around.

At one point, Jin teased him.

“I feel like if we fought now, you’d probably kill me,” Jin laughed, nudging Taehyung.

Taehyung’s eyes flicked over lazily. But his grin was different — a slow, shadowed smirk.

“I’ve been to scarier places than that, hyung.”

The way he said it — quiet, measured — made the chat explode with laughing emojis. But Namjoon looked over for a second longer, brows furrowed, like he heard something under the joke.

The live rolled on.

Laughter, soft chaos, a few serious moments where they talked about missing the fans, about Jimin and Jungkook who’d be next to come home, about how quiet the dorm had felt without all of them together.

Namjoon answered a fan who asked what they missed the most.

“Honestly?” he said. “The silence, sometimes. But also — the noise of us together.”

Taehyung nodded once, then added, “And seeing the same person’s face every night for months — it makes you appreciate the face you actually want to see.”

Namjoon gave him a look. “Was that aimed at someone?”

Taehyung only smirked again, his eyes sliding to the hallway behind the camera.

⸻

By the time the live ended, you were standing just past the corner of the hallway, fingers clutching your phone, your heart still beating too fast from the way he’d looked after you earlier.

The moment the camera turned off, the entire room sighed.

Staff moved quickly to pack up, conversations overlapping. Jin stretched, yawning.

“I’m gonna go. Gotta record early tomorrow.”

Namjoon gave you a brief, soft smile as he passed you in the hallway. “Thanks for the food, Y/N.”

You nodded, bowing slightly. “Of course.”

But Taehyung was already pulling on his jacket, voice low. “Let’s go.”

You blinked. “Should I—should I say goodbye—?”

“No.” His hand found your wrist, firm but not rough. “They’ll understand.”

You looked once over your shoulder — Jin had raised a hand in a wave, half-smiling. Namjoon gave you a nod.

But Taehyung had already turned, pulling you gently but insistently toward the elevator.

You followed. Silently. The ache in your cheekbone long forgotten, replaced by the tension radiating off him in quiet waves.

Only once the elevator doors closed, cutting you off from the world, did he finally move.

He turned.

One hand slid up to your face — careful, warm. His thumb brushed against the place you’d been hit, and his eyes searched yours like they were reading something only he could see.

“Did it hurt?”

You shook your head, voice small. “It was an accident.”

He didn’t say anything. His jaw clenched once.

Then he leaned forward — kissed your cheek, right where the pain had bloomed.

Soft. Reverent.

His arms wrapped around you — possessive, grounding. “Let’s go home.”

The car rolled into the long private driveway as the gates glided shut behind them, the quiet hum of tires over the smooth concrete echoing in the soft Seoul dusk. Taehyung had one hand on the wheel, the other resting on your thigh, thumb brushing absentmindedly over your jeans as you leaned against the seat—calm, but thrumming with unspoken energy.

As the mansion came into view — all clean lines, soft lights through tall windows, and that familiar ivy climbing the front pillars — he exhaled.

Home.

———

He parked in silence, engine purring once before cutting off. Then he turned to you, eyes dragging over your face like he was taking inventory of your soul.

You smiled softly. “It’s just us now.”

He didn’t answer. He just reached for you and kissed your forehead.

Inside, he dropped his duffle by the door.

And froze.

There, in the center of the open living room, right above the sunken couch — was a massive white banner strung across the stone wall in perfect lettering:

“Welcome Back Tae 💜”

Below it, on the table, a line of plush BT21 figures stared up like a tiny cheering squad — TATA front and center, wearing a tiny paper beret you’d cut out yourself. Beside it, his favorite wine. A fresh vase of white tulips. And the faintest scent of sandalwood candles lingering in the air.

Everything was clean. Warm. Ready. The bed was made. Slippers laid out. The lights dimmed low.

He stood still for a moment.

Then turned toward you.

His voice came out low, hoarse with emotion. “You did all this?”

You nodded, cheeks warm. “Of course. You’ve been gone. I wanted your first night home to feel like… home.”

His lips parted, but no words came. Instead, he crossed the space between you and pulled you into his arms — not with urgency, but with the aching weight of someone who hadn’t touched softness in too long.

His hands were warm against your back. His mouth lingered at your temple. And when he breathed your name, it was almost reverent.

“God, I missed you.”

You smiled into his chest. “I noticed.”

Later, after wine and soft music and laughter that came easier with each hour, it shifted — somewhere between the second glass and the last flicker of candlelight. His voice dipped lower. His eyes never left yours. And when he reached for you — slowly, wordlessly — you didn’t hesitate.

⸻

The sheets were tangled and half-slipped off the bed, your body curled loosely on your side, one leg stretched across the cool linen as your arm draped over the pillow he’d recently occupied.

You were quiet. Bare. Asleep.

And he was watching you.

The sky outside had deepened into a navy velvet wash, the stars faint behind the tinted windows. From where he sat — back against the headboard, one arm behind his head — he could see every inch of you lit by soft bedside lamp glow. Your skin warm, your hair mussed. A tiny line between your brows, like you were dreaming.

So delicate. So small.

He’d seen you like this before, hundreds of times.

But now…

Now, everything was different.

Something primal stirred in him. Not lust — not only that — but the heavy, possessive protectiveness that had sunk into his bones since the military. The training. The missions. The way it’d changed how he breathed, how he saw danger in everything.

How he now understood just how fragile the world could be.

And how much he could lose.

You stirred, shifting slightly.

A sleepy hum escaped your throat as you blinked up, lashes fluttering before your eyes found him.

“…You’re staring,” you murmured, voice thick with exhaustion, but amused.

He gave a small, lazy smile. “You’re beautiful when you’re wrecked.”

Your brow twitched in sleepy offense. “Wrecked?”

“Mm.” He reached out, brushed a strand of hair from your cheek. “You look like someone who’s been thoroughly missed.”

You huffed. But your cheeks flushed pink as your arm slid lazily up to rest over his abdomen, your fingers grazing the ridges of his stomach, the firm rise of his chest.

“Yeah well,” you mumbled, eyes half-lidded, “You didn’t exactly come home with restraint.”

He chuckled. It was the first time in months he’d laughed that quietly. “No,” he agreed, tilting his head, “I didn’t.”

You cracked one eye open. “You were kind of rough.”

His gaze darkened for a second, but not dangerously. “You didn’t complain.”

You smirked, eyes fluttering closed again. “Didn’t have a reason to.”

He reached out, letting his fingers trail lightly over your bare shoulder, your neck, down the curve of your back until you shivered faintly.

A pause.

Then your voice, soft: “You… really did miss me, huh?”

Taehyung’s voice was quieter now, his palm resting fully against your back. “You have no idea.”

You shifted again, turning just enough so your head was pillowed against his chest, your fingers splayed gently across the firm muscle there. You traced one invisible line across him, like mapping the difference.

His breath caught a little at the contact — more from the intimacy than the sensation.

“You’re stronger now,” you said softly, your voice almost childlike in the dark. “You changed.”

He didn’t respond right away.

Then, his arm curled around you, anchoring you closer.

“I had to,” he said. Simply. Quietly.

You tilted your chin, looking up at him through your lashes. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Your voice was innocent. Light. But not empty.

His gaze dropped to yours.

And for a second — a full, weighted beat — he just looked.

Then he let out a breath, not heavy… but slow.

“Not yet.”

And you didn’t press.

You just tucked your head against his chest again, your fingertips trailing over his heart as if to memorize it.

And he held you tighter — like if he let go, the world might take you too.

_______

The sound of laughter spilled out of the dining room like music from a house that had been quiet too long.

Dinner was set in the garden-facing room, the long wooden table full with homemade food, half-finished bottles of makgeolli and soju, and the echo of six voices layered with history. Candles flickered in the center, catching the edges of glassware and grins.

Jimin and Jungkook had arrived an hour ago — freshly discharged, freshly free, their energy explosive and familiar. Jungkook had crushed Y/N into a hug before she could breathe, lifting her off the ground in a whirl of excited laughter.

“Noonaaaaaa—!”

“You’re going to break my ribs,” Y/N wheezed against his shoulder, giggling.

“Worth it!”

Jimin had been more composed, though his hug had lingered. Soft. Gentle. Like he was still grounding himself.

“It’s been too long,” he whispered against her hair. “You didn’t forget me, right?”

Y/N had swatted at him with a mock scowl. “As if I could.”

Now they were all together again — Namjoon at the head of the table, Jin beside him, Jimin and Jungkook across from each other, and Taehyung…

Right beside Y/N.

His hand rested on the back of her chair, fingers brushing the top of her spine occasionally. Not enough to draw attention, but enough to make her stomach flip every time.

She was talking with Jungkook now, her arms folded on the table as she grinned at him. “So,” she teased, “how was it? Which one of you cried first?”

Jungkook narrowed his eyes. “We don’t talk about that.”

Jimin snorted into his glass. “You mean you don’t.”

“Hyung—!”

Namjoon chuckled. “Honestly, I thought Jungkook would be the military muscle boy again, but—” he tilted his head toward Taehyung “—this one came back with shoulders.”

“Oh yeah,” Jin added, raising his brows dramatically. “You could balance a whole tray of drinks on his back now.”

Jungkook pouted. “Hey! I still got my muscles!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jimin teased, poking Jungkook’s bicep. “Still a golden maknae.”

“Who’d win in a fight now?” Namjoon mused, resting his chin on his hand. “Jungkook or Taehyung?”

Silence.

Then chaos.

“No way he could take me,” Jungkook declared.

Taehyung didn’t move. He just tilted his head slightly, eyes gleaming. “Wanna test that theory, bunny?”

Jimin burst out laughing. “He’s not kidding. He could break your spine with that stare alone now.”

“Chill,” Taehyung said, voice dry. “I’m a civilian again.”

You leaned your head against Taehyung’s shoulder, giggling. “Please don’t break anything. I just cleaned the house.”

The group quieted for a beat.

Then Jungkook leaned across the table. “Y/N, are you still baking?”

You lit up instantly. “Always. Now that Tae’s home, I can start again.”

Taehyung turned to glance at you, his voice teasing but warm. “You’re going to fatten me up, aren’t you?”

“That’s the plan,” you said proudly. “I already have a new menu just for you. Lemon honey chiffon, your favorite, and I’m testing a persimmon tart.”

His smile softened. “I missed your food the most.”

“Military food was that bad for you, huh?” Jimin asked, leaning in.

Y/N made a face on Taehyung’s behalf. “He wouldn’t even talk about it. Just gave me this haunted look.”

“It was inedible,” Taehyung muttered. “They called it curry. It was glue.”

Everyone laughed.

You nudged him lightly, your voice playful. “Good thing you’re back in civilization now. Let me take care of you, okay?”

He didn’t say anything for a second. Then his hand gently squeezed the back of your neck, thumb brushing your skin.

“I’m counting on it.”

“Ugh, get a room,” Jungkook grumbled, dramatically covering his eyes.

“We have one,” Taehyung said coolly.

“YA!” Jin and Jimin shouted in unison, and the table erupted.

Eventually, the conversation turned to other things — promotions, comeback ideas, Yoongi’s discharge date. The group slowly quieted into warm, easy tones, the comfort of years spent together folding into every gesture.

At one point, Namjoon brought up something Taehyung had said in a recent live.

“You really said you hate childish people now?”

Taehyung nodded calmly. “They exhaust me.”

Everyone stared at him.

“You were the most childish one here,” Jin deadpanned.

“Facts,” Jungkook added. “You once cried because your snack fell on the floor.”

“Once?” Jimin choked.

“I evolved,” Taehyung said with a smug shrug.

Y/N pouted at him from her seat, hands coming up in mock offense. “So what, am I childish now?”

His eyes flicked to her, narrowing with playful threat. “Don’t push it.”

She stuck her tongue out at him.

Then reached up to squish his cheek, teasingly. “Don’t be too grown-up and serious, Mr. Military Man.”

But before she could get a proper hold, he caught her wrist mid-air — fast, firm, one brow raised.

“You forget how much stronger I am now?”

You gasped in outrage. “Let go!”

He smirked. “No.”

You pouted harder, lips trembling in exaggerated pain. “Oppa… you’re bullying me in front of your brothers.”

“You’ve been bullying me since I got back,” he murmured, pulling her hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to her fingers, slow and deliberate.

The table went silent.

Then Namjoon broke into a sigh. “We’re literally right here.”

“You two are the worst,” Jin muttered.

“Seriously, just get married,” Jimin said under his breath, sipping from his cup.

Y/N only leaned against Taehyung’s shoulder, victorious, as he wrapped his arm around her with a sigh — his hand resting right over her ribs, pulling her in like she was his.

Which she was.

______

It was a weekday afternoon, bright and mild, the sky above Seoul a lazy shade of blue. The streets weren’t crowded — just enough to feel alive without pressing in too close. You walked hand-in-hand with him, your steps light, your skirt fluttering with every breeze like petals across pavement.

You looked like spring incarnate.

Floral midi dress in soft yellow, little ribbons tied at your sleeves, sandals that made no sound. Your hair was pinned in a way Taehyung liked — soft, girlish, sweet. You were glowing. Laughing. Asking him if he wanted gelato from the corner place you always dragged him to before he left.

He wore sunglasses and a black baseball cap pulled low. A simple tee. Loose jeans. Mask. To anyone passing, he looked like any tall, faceless boyfriend doting on his tiny, radiant girlfriend.

But to Taehyung, it felt different now.

Everything did.

He’d gotten used to analyzing his surroundings. The shift of footsteps. The angle of parked cars. The sound of voices layered in a crowd. He hadn’t meant to keep doing it after discharge — it just stayed with him. The SDT trained his eyes to see threats before they were threats.

He still couldn’t stop calculating exit points every time they turned a corner.

You’d just pulled away, walking toward the gelato cart with a soft “Wait here,” and he nodded, watching you float toward the vendor.

You smiled brightly at the ahjussi behind the cart, pointing at the mint chocolate flavor like a kid, the little purse in your hands bouncing with each step.

Then Taehyung’s smile vanished.

His eyes locked on a man about twelve feet down the sidewalk — tall, in his 30s, standing near a lamppost with a phone in hand.

But not using it.

He wasn’t looking at his screen.

He was watching you.

Too long.

Too directly.

Taehyung stepped forward once. Then again.

His heart beat differently now — not fast, but cold. His hand clenched inside his pocket. The muscle in his jaw twitched once as his body shifted between the man’s line of sight and your figure.

The man noticed.

Looked away.

Too late.

When you turned back with a smile and two cups of gelato, Taehyung had already stepped close, took both in one hand, and curled his free arm tight around your back, guiding you quickly away.

“Wha—? Tae—?”

“Not here.”

His voice was low. Controlled. He didn’t say anything more until you were two streets over, near a shaded alley with no one watching.

He let go of your arm, breathing slow and sharp through his nose.

You looked up at him, frowning. “Hey. What happened?”

He didn’t answer. His head tilted, scanning, shoulders still tense.

“Tae.”

His eyes flicked to you finally. Still dark. Still locked in that place only soldiers understand.

“There was a guy. Back at the cart,” he said flatly. “He was staring at you.”

You blinked. “…Okay. I didn’t even notice—”

“I did.”

He took a deep breath and leaned against the brick wall behind him, setting the gelato aside on the bench.

You stepped closer, voice careful. “Tae… it’s just Seoul. People stare sometimes.”

“It wasn’t normal staring.”

“You mean, like…?”

“Like he wanted something.”

Your lips parted slightly at the way he said it. There was no hint of jealousy in his voice. Only danger. Calculation. Something hard and cold behind his eyes.

You placed your hand gently on his chest, feeling the tense pull of muscle beneath your fingertips.

“You okay?” you asked.

He hesitated.

Then scoffed under his breath. “You really think you can be out in the world acting like nothing’s wrong?”

You blinked at him. “What’s wrong?”

He looked at you, and his voice was low. Real.

“You don’t know what I’ve heard.”

The air between you thinned.

“I spent a year around nothing but men,” he continued. “No privacy. No filters. Just hours of hearing how they talk. How they think. About women. About what they want to do. About what they have done.”

You were quiet.

“They don’t think women are people. Not really. Just things. Toys. Disposables.”

He looked away, jaw tight. “I never showed them your picture. Not once. I kept it in a zip pocket at the bottom of my duffel, inside a wrapper, hidden under soap. Because I was scared someone might recognize you. Find you.”

You touched his wrist.

He didn’t move.

“You were the only thing I wanted to protect,” he said softly. “They talked about their wives, their girlfriends, the things they’d do if they ever saw certain idols in real life. Your name almost came up once and I felt my entire body go cold.”

“Tae…”

“I didn’t want you to ever be in the same sentence as the way they talked. And now—out here—some guy looks at you for too long and my whole fucking brain goes back there.”

You stepped in.

Wrapped your arms gently around his torso, your cheek resting against his chest.

His arms came around you immediately, his hands curling into the back of your dress, clutching you not like a lover—but like something sacred.

You didn’t speak. Just let him breathe.

After a moment, he pulled back slightly, brushing your hair from your eyes.

“You’re too soft for this city.”

You pouted. “I’ve lived here longer than you.”

He half-laughed, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“You’re sweet. You talk to strangers. You wear ribbons in your hair and floral dresses and smile at old men selling chestnuts like they’re your grandpas.”

You looked up. “You’re making it sound like a crime.”

He sighed, then pressed his forehead to yours.

“It isn’t a crime. It’s why I love you. I just… I’ve seen how fast the world can get ugly.”

You cupped his jaw gently. “So let me be soft. You can be strong. I’ll bake the tarts, you fight the ghosts.”

He closed his eyes, smiling faintly. “Deal.”

You paused, then grinned up at him. “So… what was it like, being locked up with only men for a year?”

His brow lifted. “…Loud. Smelly. Violent.”

“Did they talk about feelings?”

“Not unless it was followed by ‘shut up, loser’.”

You laughed softly.

“Bet you missed touching a girl.��

His gaze dropped to you, suddenly darker. “You have no idea.”

You flushed.

He leaned in closer, whispering at your ear.

“You’re the only softness I had left. Don’t ever underestimate how badly I needed you.”

Your breath hitched.

Then he kissed your temple. Once. Twice. His hand still firm on your waist like he was anchoring himself to the only thing real.

That night, the bedroom was dim and warm — moonlight slanting through gauzy curtains, casting soft shadows across the wall.

The sheets were half-kicked off the bed, your legs tangled with his, your body resting against his chest as your breaths slowed together. It wasn’t urgent this time. Not hungry. Not frantic like that first night.

This time was different.

Slower.

His mouth had explored you like a hymn, like a melody he’d forgotten how to hum. Your skin remembered him — every line, every pause, every breath.

He didn’t talk much. Just held you close, moved with care, touched you like you were the only soft thing left in a world full of stone. And when it was over — when the tension in his body had eased and yours had melted — he kept his arms around you like a cage made of comfort.

You ran your fingers lazily across his chest, lips brushing his shoulder.

“You okay?” you whispered.

He kissed your hair. “I am now.”

You fell asleep not long after.

But he didn’t.

Not yet.

_____

2:13 a.m.

You woke to the sound of movement.

Not the usual kind — not shifting blankets or sleepy murmurs.

This was sharp. Gasping.

You turned.

Taehyung was sitting upright at the edge of the bed, hunched over, his elbows on his knees, one hand buried in his hair, the other clenched tight on the sheets.

His shoulders rose and fell like he couldn’t catch his breath.

“Tae?”

He didn’t answer.

You sat up slowly, the sheets falling off your body, heart hammering now — not from fear of him, but for him.

You crawled across the bed and knelt behind him, arms gently wrapping around his back. You pressed your cheek between his shoulder blades.

He flinched. But only slightly.

Then exhaled.

It took a while before he spoke. His voice, when it came, was barely audible.

“There was a call. During drills. Fake scenario… supposed to be a simulation. But something went wrong. A real threat alert went off. Border movement.”

You stayed quiet, listening.

“I was closest to the line. They handed me live rounds. Told me I might have to shoot. Just like that.”

You tightened your hold, your face buried against his spine.

“I didn’t. Nothing happened. But the silence after that? The waiting? That’s what messed with me. That moment between breathing and shooting… I think I’ve been stuck there ever since.”

You turned his face gently toward you, crawling around to his lap, straddling him slowly — not to seduce, but to anchor.

He looked at you like he didn’t know where he was.

You cupped his cheeks softly. “You’re home. You’re safe. I’m here.”

His eyes watered, but the tears didn’t fall.

He leaned forward until his forehead pressed against your chest, arms wrapping around your waist, breathing in your scent like it might pull him from the battlefield still living behind his eyes.

And it did.

Eventually.

⸻

You heard the front door open with a click.

It was mid-morning. He’d gone to the gym after breakfast — the one you insisted he try out, clean, private, just a few blocks away.

You were already in the kitchen, the scent of browned butter and cinnamon thick in the air. A tray of raspberry almond croissants cooling beside you, powdered sugar melting into the ridges.

You wore an apron over a soft tank and cotton shorts, your hair up again, music playing faintly on your phone.

When he walked in, the scent hit him first.

Then he saw you.

His pace slowed. His bag dropped by the door.

You turned with that signature beam — pure, unaffected joy — and held up a plate.

“Chef’s pick of the day. I demand a taste test.”

He stepped forward, eyes flicking over your flour-dusted cheeks, your bare legs, the way your smile could still make his chest ache.

“You’re going to kill me with sweetness.”

You smirked. “That’s the plan. You’re getting too handsome, you know. ARMY’s gonna riot. You need to eat more croissants. Just a little chubby Taehyung. For safety reasons.”

He raised a brow, playing along. “Oh? And if I don’t?”

You gave him a dramatic sigh. “Then someone’s gonna steal my boyfriend.”

He stepped up to you, slid one hand around your waist and the other to your jaw, thumb brushing the apple of your cheek.

“Don’t know how I’m supposed to feel,” he murmured, “when every guy in Seoul wants to steal my girl.”

You bit your lip, cheeks pink.

He leaned down, kissed your forehead.

And in his mind, a quiet monologue drifted through:

There are still days I wake up expecting the alarm. The cold floor. The sound of boots and orders and men screaming over drills.

But then I open my eyes… and she’s here. Soft skin. Sweet voice.

She smells like vanilla and sugar and peace.

I don’t know what I did to deserve her, but I’ll protect her with my life. Even now. Especially now.

She’s the only thing that brought me home fully.

And I’m never letting her go.

He kissed you then. Long. Quiet. Gentle.

You fed him a croissant between kisses.

And he stayed close the entire day. And longer.

[wayslidecool]

arabic numerals ranked from worst to best by their potential as the lens in new year's glasses

#10: Seven (7)

seven is a very awkward number for a lot of things, and new year's glasses are no exception. its weird angular shape leaves no opening to put a lens in, and unlike the next entry, it's too wide to comfortably squeeze between lens in the second and fourth digits. and the impressive thing about 7 is that this is a number with plenty of writing variations, and yet i can't think of a single one that makes it an efficient lens! sorry 7. i think you're the best number for a rating scale, but that's about it.

#9: One (1)

the 2010s were a rough time for new year's glasses, huh? coming off the high of the 1990s and 2000s, people were determined to make the 2010s work, but that's a tall fucking order. the saving grace of 1, and the reason it's above 7, is that it's skinny enough that you can slide it between numbers and use the fourth digit of the year as the lens, but the fact you have to resort to that is only further evidence of how much 1 sucks at being the lens.

#8: Two (2)

two is definitely a tier above the previous two entries. it's an interesting and versatile enough shape that you can mess with it to try and make a viable spot for a lens, what with the upper loop and lower angle, but i feel no matter what you try, you always gotta make some concessions. like, you have enough to work with that a talented enough designer can make something that works, but usually the result is more "functional" than "good".

#7: Four (4)

now we're getting into numbers that could actually make for passable lenses. i mean, check it out! we have a closed loop here and everything, that has GOT to count for something! what makes me put four relatively low on the list is that with its right-triangle shape, i can't imagine it being a very comfortable shape for a lens, especially with how much ends up sticking out and downwards. still, a vast improvement over the previous three entries, even if it's basically just a worse 9.

#6: Five (5)

i feel like depending on what you prioritize in new year's glasses, these next two entries could end up going below the previous one, but personally, i think the not-closed round loop feels like a more practical spot for a lens than 4's closed-but-angular loop, y'know? so what if the loop isn't closed, it still mostly surrounds your eye, and feels generally passable to me. this is a number that wouldn't inspire the idea for new year's glasses, but certainly works now that the idea has been established.

#5: Three (3)

three is basically the same thing as 5, and i could even see some people putting it below 5, since 5's loop is a bit closer to being closed than either of 3's loops. that being said, 3's dual-loop is ultimately what gives it the edge to me. it ends up feeling more versatile to me. i feel the bottom loop is generally the correct choice, but just having the option of the top loop as well really helps it out. either way, after suffering through the 2010s and 2020s, i expect the 2030s to be a welcome breath of fresh air.

#4: Nine (9)

now we're getting to the really good ones. i mean, the 1990s are when the trend of new year's glasses started! if this number was good enough to kickstart the trend, then clearly it's a good number to put the lens in. having a closed round loop really goes a long way, it turns out! what puts 9 below the next three entries is the tail. having that swoop down towards your face feels like it'd be a bit uncomfortable, and this issue doesn't crop up with the next three entries. still, 9 is a trailblazer and its place in the New Year's Glasses Metagame needs to be respected.

#3: Six (6)

if 9's only issue is the tail getting all up in your face, then what better way to solve that then just turning it upside-down? it might just be me, put having it brush up against your forehead feels much, much less intrusive than having it brush up against your face. and plus, it can give the impression of a raised eyebrow! bonus! the 2030s-2050s are going to be a refreshing breath of fresh air following the awful new year's glasses of the 2010s and 2020s, but the 2060s are going to be a true new year's glasses renaissance.

#2: Eight (8)

hey, so remember how i put 3 above 5 since i felt the double loop made it a bit more versatile? well now imagine that, but both loops are closed. 8 makes for such a good lens, it's a little surprising we didn't see new year's glasses in the 1980s (i'm guessing having two of the same number is more inspiring than two different numbers?) either way, eight isn't content to give you just one closed loop. it'll give you a second closed loop right above. (or below!) 8 is a versatile number with many options, and i hope i can live to see the day we see it in new year's glasses. a true stand out in its field.

#1: Zero (0)

still, even with all the good years ahead, it's hard to ignore the fact that the best years are sadly behind us, with the 2000s being the absolute pinnacle of new year's glasses design. i mean, come on. a single loop with no frills is basically what glasses designs default to already, so using the middle two zeroes as the lens for glasses? impeccable design. the 1990s were good enough to kickstart the trend, but the 2000s were good enough to make us want to brute force the 2010s and 2020s. if that's not the mark of a good design, i don't know what is.

sadly, it's likely we'll never see design this good again. the next year with the middle two digits being two zeroes is 3000, and while we might be able to execute double-zero designs at the turn of each century, they'll end up looking weirdly lopsided in the process. i believe humans are hubristic enough to try and brute-force bad decades, but multiple bad centuries? forget about it.

oh well. happy new year

[sugar-petals]

Hi caro 🌹, following what you said in your previous post , you mentioned that Tom hardy is a soft type which I agree on and I get a feeling that he might be a soft natural too cause suits look like they're floating and they don't sit right on his body like what u said for Aaron taylor-johnson is . Emily browning is another case , I strongly believe she's a romantic or at the very least soft gamine . I like seeing them stand next to eachother in this movie ( the softness in their features and them being rahuvians in astrology make them complement eachother pretty well ! ) ( I want to add them to your list of couples so bad lol) thanks and have a swell day ☀️

emily browning is so yin! apple cheeks, full lips, rounded eyes, wavy wispy hair, soft jawline... naturals really do seem to come cast/coupled/teamed/shipped with romantic types frequently.

in a modern plot, the Natural is often painted as the active, Romantic as the passive part, until the roles switch; N is the facilitator for R to live their life how they please. "everything everything" in a nutshell: amandla stenberg = pure R, nick robinson = SN.

"love, simon" had picture-perfect N type clothing for nick, as if the costume department knew his kibbe ID. i think that's one of the reasons it blew up. jeans fabric, fleece, regular shirts, slightly longer but less sleek hair, casual > overstyling.

very subtly done, with soft lighting. which suits R, C, and N very well (DC is the exception, they are film noir). harsh lighting benefits sharp yang types on the other hand, so the G and D categories (SG as the exception, they are too yin), think eva green in sin city, the shadows of the blinds mimic her angular bones, creating harmony. she's been typed as D, SD, and TR, but in any case, she has yang bones. what do y'all think her type is? she is 5´7.

FN -TR with swapped expectations seems to be THE popular couple trope, btw. TR the strong, dominant, loveless, and hardened one, and FN the naively helpless romantic who's clumsy, shy, and often the sexualized part, even if we suspected it would be the TR! and they still have a hilarious height and size difference. FN is tall and burly, TR narrow and curvy. so, disney's hercules.

the D - G pairing axis tends to be a little edgier. especially as D is frequently a villain, contrarian, or antihero role, and G is the toiling protagonist on the hero's journey or the comedic relief. as soon as the "N with R, D with G" formula is broken, as "N with G, D with R", the couple is bittersweet, like katniss and peeta.

bonus: tom hardy has the typical "sharp shoulder sitting on top of nothing" menswear syndrome there: angled suits are for angled, pointy bones. naturals are too blunt-edged. that's why all of his well-known roles have character designs that sew the shoulders rounded, no pads, no classic construction.

[artistdove]

Somewhat official designs for each of my Mickey and Oswald Aus along with minor lore. For those that want basic info on each au, here's the link.

Between the Screen Au

Mirroring ear injuries due to Blot.

Mick has minor health injuries due to having the Blot in him during Epic Mickey, resulting in monthly check-ups and a paint monitor.

Mixed their outfits post Epic Mickey.

Oswald is co-leader of Wasteland and head of the Conversion Trolley Station, while Mickey still acts but occasionally works side jobs.

Tale of 2 Brothers

Style is based on the Beta pitch, so semi-angular basically.

Both have the Blot in them, so they can use paint or thinner with their hands. Old movesets from the Epic Mickey Beta trailer are present when they fight.

Oswald keeps his Blot arm hidden at all times unless around Ortensia, Gus, Mad Doctor, and the Blot. Mick eventually sees it.

Toons & Dungeons

Oswald is an Artificer/Sorcerer and Mickey is a Bard/Sorcerer.

Oswald has minor lighting spells while Mickey has various spells. Oswald has a gun that can shoot electricity, Energy/Paint, and Acid/Thinner. Mickey has a wand, Pan Flute, and Lute. Both carry a small hidden dagger.

Oswald was taken in by the Gremlins while Mick gets adopted by Yen Sid.

Rising Star

Outfits change over the years, so this is the main look.

1920s-60s they stay conservative with looks, but eventually let loose as times change.

Can be depicted smoking or drinking cuz they old.

Magic Island

Villagers inspired by Mickey and Oswald, so their names are different. Oswald = Clover while Mickey = Elias.

Clover is a Smug/Lazy Villager while Elias is a Jock/Peppy Villager. Idk if that makes sense (；・∀・).

Elias sleeps early while Clover stays up late.

Local Toon

Classic old looks. Nothing much to say, they are kids in this world and look like their first designs.

Toon High

Main designs until later arcs.

Oswald prefers loose cloths unless working on machines, which he wears tanks or snug clothes. Mickey likes active wear or normal teen clothes.

Later on, the two wear something of the other as a way to solidify their repaired brotherhood.

Ink & Mirrors

Actual plot is Mick and Ink!Oswald. Parallel plot is Oswald and Ink!Mickey.

Both are dealing with completely different issues. Ink!Oswald is hunting Mickey while Ink!Mickey is trying to help Oswald.

Ink!Oswald is stuck in a sort of limbo where his mind is like pre-Epic Mickey, mostly due to the false heart Bendy implanted into him. Ink!Mickey seems to have kept some of his self due to his heart, but Alice Angel mangled the poor mouse.

Mickey is constantly stressed as he tries to escape the studio and revert his brother. Paint barely works on these enemies so he is stuck using only thinner and electricity, leaving him heavily drained.

Oswald is alert 24/7 and trying to rescue others alongside fixing his brother. Having never used the brush before, he finds it a tad difficult to use correctly. It's also causing him to drip. He has a limp due to an attempt to use his leg as a weapon, which failed horribly.

P.D. Toons

Public Domain toons turned into ocs. They are still the original characters, but my own take.

Oswald is Oliver Hare and Mickey is Willy Fieldmouse.

Oliver is the local trolley driver. Willy is a staff member for a local studio.